Empire of Lies

THE DIAMOND EMPIRE
By Rich Wulf
EPISODE NINETEEN

"Greetings, my children, and welcome to the Hour of the Tao," Hoshi Jack said, smiling in serenity as the cameras came into focus. "It is good to be back in Togashi Mountain. After the terrors I witnessed in Otosan Uchi, it is good to be anywhere."

Muffled laughter from the audience.

"Yes, I was present at the Locust riots," Jack continued, his ancient face grave as he paced his way to the top of the temple's steps. The camera followed smoothly on its track. "I saw terror, murder, rampant destruction, images that will scar my soul forever. Even the descendant of Shinsei has nightmares."

He smiled, then, seeming a bit sad.

"But that is not all I saw," Jack's ancient eyes focused, shimmering with unknowable wisdom. "I saw much to give me hope as well. I saw much to give me courage, to know that all that I have fought for, hoped for, dreamed of these last fifty years has not been in vain. I saw something good and right reflected in the eyes of the Emperor, and I know that though his motives seem strange Yoritomo VII will lead us to peace. I have heard that he shall address the nation this day at sunset, announcing his plans regarding his late father's ultimatum. I do not know what the Emperor intends, but I have seen into his soul and know what I have found there. I know that what he will decide will be ultimately the best for us all."

Jack bowed his head for several moments. When he looked at the camera once more, there were tears in his eyes.

"But enough of politics," Jack said, his voice thick. "Tomorrow is an important day for all citizens of the Diamond Empire. Tomorrow is the Bon Festival, the day in which we honor our dead. In the wake of the great tragedies in our capitol, this day is more important than ever, for on this day we remember what it has lost and what it has bought. The day of the dead is invaluable, for on that day I promise you the dead will walk beside us again. You may not see them, but they will be there, and they will know what we have done. I promise you, they will be watching. I promise you, we will be rewarded for our honor, our patience, and our diligence." He smiled, showing rows of perfect white teeth.

"Prepare yourselves, Rokugan," Jack said. "When your ancestors return, do them honor."

The television went dark. The sound of a single pair of hands, clapping, sounded from the door.

The Emperor of Rokugan turned to see who had entered, blackened, chipped mempo still hanging from his face. His eyes were bloodshot and wild.

"An excellent performance Jack-sama," Asahina Munashi chuckled, continuing to clap as he stepped forward into the room. "Since I learned his secret I've been watching his old tapes, you know. Curious thing about Hoshi Jack. He never lies. All of his addresses, his philosophies, his speeches clearly outline his plans for world domination, when interpreted in the proper context. Almost unnerving in a way, isn't it? As if he knows he dares his enemies to try and catch him. Ah, the Stormbreaker. Forgive me, Kameru, but even an old schemer like me has to bow down at the sight of a true professional. We're so beneath him. But I suppose you know that already, don't you?"

The Emperor's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

Munashi smiled tightly and folded his arms in his sleeves. "Pretend all you like, Yoritomo, the ropes that bind you to Jigoku are bound quite tightly. You have lost."

"Kamiko..." the Emperor mumbled.

Munashi sighed. "Kameru, begone. I want to speak to Yashin now."

The Emperor's eyes blurred, then focused once more. A grin spread across his exposed mouth. "The address..." the Emperor said in a strangely harsh voice. "I have an address to make today."

"Yes, my lord. That's why I am here," Munashi replied, drawing a thick envelope from his robes. "I have your speech all prepared..."


"Are you ready?" Sachiko asked. "You look nervous."

"Shouldn't I be?" Hatsu asked, running one hand through his hair. He gazed down the street toward the shabby apartment building. "How do I know what I will find in there? How do I know how much of my life is a lie?"

"There's one way to find out," she said with an encouraging smile.

"I don't know if I can face him, Sachiko," Hatsu said. "Hisojo was like a grandfather to me. After my parents died, he was all I knew. Then I find out he's a member of the Hidden Dragon. It's a lot to take in."

"Is that why you've been putting this off?" she asked stepping closer to him and putting one hand on his shoulder. "Is that why you've been finding excuses to stick around and help Toturi's Army all week?"

"I wasn't finding excuses-" he began.

"Kitsuki," she said, leaning close and laughing. "You're not the only one here who used to be a detective. I know when a man's stalling."

"Can you blame me?" he said. "I feel like there isn't anything left of me, anymore. As if my whole idea of a man called 'Kitsuki Hatsu' is just an illusion."

Sachiko leaned forward and kissed him, then leaned back with a smile, her arms crossed around his neck. "That proves it, Kitsuki. You're real."

"You know, Sachiko," he said, grinning back at her. "After all we've been through, I think you can call me Hatsu."

"You think we're ready for that step?" she asked, rising one eyebrow.

"Now you're making fun of me," he said.

"No wonder you're not a detective any more," she said. "Let's go meet Hisojo."


Yasu growled as he shoved open the door to the garage. "So. Ketsuen's still not repaired, but you're working on that?" He stabbed his finger at the vehicle Mikio was working on, a somewhat beaten old motorcycle.

Mikio set down his wrench, peering over his shoulder with a mildly irritated gaze. "You need something, Hida?" he asked.

"Yes, I need something!" Yasu shouted, stomping toward the mechanic with arms flailing. "I need you to finish working on Ketsuen so I can get back to Kyuden Hida where I belong! Why are you working on that damn bicycle when the Crab War Machine's just sitting over there fossilizing?" Yasu gestured angrily at the dark looming figure of Ketsuen at the far corner of the Garage. Tokei and Hiruma Hayato sat at its feet. Hayato looked over at Yasu curiously but Tokei did not allow the Crab's ranting to disturb his outburst.

Mikio set down his wrench and turned around with a sigh. "Listen, Yasu," he said, standing straight and looking down at the Crab. Yasu hated it when people did that. Though Yasu was a large man, he wasn't very tall, especially out of his armor, and it bugged him. "Why don't you look at that wretched black scrap heap sitting in the corner?" He nodded toward Ketsuen.

"That's the Crab War Machine you're talking about," Yasu retorted.

"That's a wretched black scrap heap," Mikio retorted. "That thing defies all my attempts to fix it. I don't even know what's wrong with it in the first place. If I did, I could probably fix her in two hours. That's the problem with tetsukami, Yasu, attitudes. They have minds of their own. That Ketsuen? She's a stubborn whore. Tokei's been communing with her for three days trying to get her to cooperate and he's getting nowhere. I had to retire to a nice, normal machine just to calm my nerves."

"Is that all?" Yasu asked, annoyed. "If it's a communication thing, you should have told me. Let me talk to her. I have a way with machines."

Mikio grinned slightly. "I'll bet. Well, I can't see you possibly making things any worse, so feel free to try."

Yasu nodded and stomped across the garage toward Ketsuen, eyes fixed upon the massive vehicle's face plate. "Ketsuen!" Yasu shouted, his voice echoing through the garage.

The War Machine seemed to stare down at him impassively, immobile and uncaring.

"I know you can hear me, so listen up," Yasu said. "Right now there's a Kyuden full of Crabs floating in Golden Sun Bay wondering where the hell I am. If I know my dad and my uncle, they've seen what's going on in the city. They know that Munashi's got the Emperor on a short leash. They must think that we tried to stop him and failed. You're cool with that, Ketsuen? Mokuna thought you were a useless tin can from the beginning. Looks like he was right."

Tokei suddenly looked up, surprised. "Yasu," the shugenja said. "Ketsuen is listening to you... She's listening, and she's... angry."

"Good!" Yasu shouted up at the War Machine. "I'm angry, too! I'm angry that I've been cooling my heels in this dump for almost a week while Munashi wraps his damned tentacles around the Diamond Throne! You hear that, you big bucket of kappa crap? You listening to me?"

"Oh, she's really angry now," Tokei said. He stood and took a step back.

"Yasu," Hayato said quietly, "Maybe you should lay off--"

"To Jigoku with that!" Yasu retorted loudly. "If Ketsuen wants to kick my ass, then she can get up off the scrap heap and do it!" He glared up at the machine again. "Listen to me, you blasted stupid robot. You think the city's quiet? That's not quiet. That's the silence before a whole lot of Seekers come charging into the city on a suicide run. You know what happened to the Senpet and Doji Meda's boys when they went up against the Emperor? I don't things are going to be much prettier. The way I see it, we've got two choices. Stay here and wait for everyone to die, or go back to Kyuden Hida and tell them what we've learned so the Crab have half a hope of coming up with some kind of decent plan. I, for one, am going to Kyuden Hida and I'm not gonna let your big leaden ass stand in the way. Somebody go find me Daniri! I'm gonna hop a ride on Akodo."

A loud mechanical growl echoed within the Crab War Machine.

"Okay, Ketsuen definitely didn't like that," Tokei said.

"Great," Yasu said. "Maybe she can start acting like a Crab, then, and get back into shape." Yasu delivered a final swift kick to the side of Ketsuen's severed arm, then turned and stomped back out of the garage.

Hayato looked up at the Crab War Machine, an embarrassed look on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but Tokei raised one hand quickly. "No, Hiruma," Tokei whispered suddenly. "Don't apologize. Don't say anything. Mikio." The shugenja stared up at the War Machine again, a look of sudden wonder on his face.

"Yeah?" Mikio looked up from where he was working on the motorcycle.

"Come here, Mikio," Tokei said. "Ketsuen is ready to allow your repairs now."

"Seven Fortunes," Mikio whistled, and picked up his tool box.

Tokei and Hayato stepped off to one side as Mikio began the repairs. "What happened?" Hayato asked, perplexed. "What did Yasu do?"

"That boy is smarter than he looks," Tokei said with a chuckle. "He realized something that we didn't. We've all been looking at Ketsuen the wrong way. Mikio treats it like a machine. I treat it like a spirit. Ketsuen doesn't see itself as either. After a thousand years as a suit of armor, guiding countless Crab Champions to victory on the field of battle, it doesn't even think of itself as an object anymore. It thinks of itself as a Crab samurai. And Yasu treated it like one. I think she respects that."

"Fantastic," Hayato said ruefully, leaning up against the wall and folding his arms across his chest. "Somehow, knowing that Ketsuen thinks a lot like Yasu hasn't made me feel any better at all."


"Suro, progress report," Munashi commanded as he strode into the laboratory. A single Pekkle skipped along behind him happily.

The young technician turned, clipboard in hand. He hid his fear well, but not so well that he appeared unafraid. That sort of respect brought a smile to Munashi's lips.

"Kamiko is well, sir," Suro said. "As well as can be expected, with the drugs we're giving her. Sir, I urge you, kill her. She could be a danger-"

"Kamiko is not going anywhere," Munashi replied, silencing Suro with a wave of her hand. "It amuses me to torment her, for now. Besides, her life was what drove the good Emperor to surrender his name and will to my power. I will not risk him breaking free of my shackles because of her death. As long as she technically lives, I am still an honest man."

"Could that happen, sir?" Suro asked. "After bonding him to the Bloodsword and the Mask and all else we have done, could the Emperor free himself?"

"Unlikely," Munashi said. "But why take risks when victory is at hand? What of the Dragon Clan?"

"No sign, sir. None of the tetsukansen report anything, and Mirumoto Rojo has confined himself to solitude in the mountains. They have disappeared."

"They shall make a mistake, Suro," Munashi replied. "Then, we will have them. We have too many implanted spies for them to remain hidden for long. Even if they do not reveal themselves, they can do little to stop us once Kassir's army of Byoki has dealt with the rabble under Togashi Mountain. What of the riddles?"

"No progress, sir," Suro said. "We have not confirmed the identities of either the Crane or Scorpion Thunders."

"And the others?" Munashi prompted, impatience ringing his voice.

"The Dragon and the implanted Unicorn are mobile," Suro reported. "Last the kansen saw through the Unicorn's eyes, the Crab and Lion were still among the ronin."

"What?" Munashi snapped. "What would the Crab daimyo's son be doing with a gang of ronin? Are you sure he has not returned?"

"Oni no Mizu maintains he has not returned, sir," Suro answered.

"Bah, that blasted oni," Munashi swore. "Tell him if he can deliver no good to us, then he must deliver harm. Tell him to kill some Seekers, or something. Be creative."

"Yes, sir. The Crab and Lion?"

"Kill the ronin. Whether or not Yasu and Daniri remain among them, disperse Toturi's Army before it becomes a problem."

"Sen, Dark Oracle of Air, may yet be among them, sir," Suro said.

"Then kill her as well, if she gets in the way," Munashi said. "There is only one Oracle I trust, and she is not the one. What of the Phoenix Thunder?"

"We have contacted our allies. The plan proceeds apace." Asahina Munashi suddenly smiled, a smile with no trace of humor or happiness. "Wise Suro," he said, seating himself comfortably and petting Pekkle on the head with one withered hand. "That's why you remain alive when so many of my other technicians fall prey to tragedy. You know I like to hear the good news last."


Kitsu Jurin leaned against her unmarked black sedan, parked in the lot of Golden Sun Studios. Her formal sodan-senzo robes had been replaced by a less conspicuous trenchcoat. She had been waiting for twenty minutes now, and though watching the flood of actors walking to and from work had been somewhat entertaining she was beginning to become annoyed.

"Jurin-san?" whispered Argcklt's rough voice from the back seat of her car. The zokujin had remained hidden so as not to draw attention. Sadly, the only place where the creature seemed to fit in was in a copper mine.

"Yes?" she replied over her shoulder.

"Are you unwell? Your spirit is disturbed."

"Yes," she said. "Gohei is making me unwell."

"He is here?" the zokujin's glowing eyes appeared in the window.

"No, no get down," Jurin said quickly, waving one hand. "He's making me unwell because he is an idiot. First he waits four days to get back to me with information. Second he asks me to meet him in the parking lot, a scene right out of a bad Kitsuki Iimin novel. Third, he doesn't even show up on time. He probably forgot he was supposed to meet me."

"He did not forget," Argcklt replied in his trademark throaty growl. "Your mission is too important to be discarded so lightly."

"I know that," she said, speaking quietly so as not to be overheard by a passing group of actors. "You know that. The question is, does the Champion of the Lion Clan realize that?"

"Do I realize what?"

Jurin turned with a start as one of the actors stepped off from the group to face her. He was a large man, his black hair flowing free about his shoulders. It took her a moment to recognize Matsu Gohei. His mempo, his armor, his customary scowl and stiff-shouldered posture were all gone. He seemed almost... handsome.

"Gohei-sama," Jurin said with a hurried bow. "I did not recognize you."

"Now, now, Jurin," Gohei replied with a quick glance around. "It doesn't do me any good to be in disguise if you prostrate yourself in greeting me."

Jurin frowned. "I was not prostrating myself, my lord, merely showing the proper respect-"

"Silence, Kitsu," Gohei snapped suddenly. "Get in the car so we can begone. This place turns my stomach."

"You certainly sound like Matsu Gohei," Jurin said quietly, turning and getting into the driver's seat. "You do not carry your sword."

"Don't remind me," Gohei said as he quickly boarded on the other side, glancing over one shoulder with a look of sudden surprise. "You bring the copper goblin everywhere?" he asked.

"Zokujin," Argcklt corrected.

"I trust him," Jurin replied. She started the car and maneuvered toward the exit of the parking lot. "Where are we going?"

"Anywhere but Golden Sun," Gohei snapped. "I cannot stand the odor of the movie studio. It smells of defeat."

"Truly?" Jurin replied. "Did not Shinsei once say that we must tell the tales of greatness so that we, too, may be great?"

"He said that to the Doji, not Akodo," Gohei replied. "But sooner or later, the tales must end and true accomplishments must begin. There was a time, Jurin, when a Lion's greatest accomplishments were those he wrought with his own hands, not those he stole from the guise of another. These so-called Akodo disgust me."

Jurin glanced over at her daimyo, then returned her eyes to the road. "Are you referring to Daniri?"

"He's merely the worst of the lot," Gohei said after a moment. "I thought there was hope for him, once. He saved the Emperor where I failed. He brought hope where there was none. In the end, he was a heimin, hiding behind a name he did not deserve. Were he here, I would illustrate my disapproval in a permanent fashion, in or out of his stolen War Machine."

Jurin considered this for a moment. "The original samurai who followed Akodo earned their names, they were not born to them. Has Daniri done any less?"

"He stole the Akodo name," Gohei snapped.

"There are no more true Akodo, Gohei. All those who bear the name now are just low-born samurai who earned it through their exploits. How is Daniri so different? What Akodo will be offended? Are his heroics less worthy because it was heimin blood that drove them? If that is what you imply, then I say that your courage is worthless. If only the blood of your ancestors can drive you to greatness, then you're nothing more than a puppet."

"Strange sentiment, coming from a sodan-senzo," Gohei said with a harsh laugh.

"The ancestors are our guides, are friends, and our protectors, not our masters," Jurin said with a smile. "Tradition must begin somewhere. Why can the Lion not begin a new tradition with Daniri?"

"There is the small matter of his theft of a multi-million dollar piece of equipment from Golden Sun," Gohei said.

"A piece of equipment that, as I understand it, is either a useless slab of metal or a dangerously cursed artifact without him," she replied.

"That is not the point," Gohei said, glaring out the side window as they drove. "The point is that-"

"That Daniri is a hero at heart? And that his clan turned upon him once they learned that his blood was not as pure as his bravery? That he stole a useless artifact from a band of foppish actors whom you despise so that he could continue to act as a hero independent of the clan that cast him out? I know you heard tales of his battle with the stone monster during the Locust riots."

"A battle which he lost," Gohei said.

"But never surrendered," she retorted.

Argcklt sat quietly in the back seat, his golden eyes darting from one speaker to the other as they argued back and forth.

"Damn you woman, must you dispute everything I say?" Gohei hissed.

"Must you strike out at everything that does not meet your perceived standards?" she answered.

"Yes," he said.

"Then I suppose we understand each other," she said. "I ask again. Where are we going?"

"I don't know," he said. "I was delivered some rather disheartening news from the Ikoma. While there are records of an Ikoma Genju who served Yoritomo II, there is no record of his death, or of any descendants. He simply vanished near the end of the Shadow Wars. The Ikoma obviously hoped to disguise any traces of his fate."

"I was afraid of that," Jurin replied. "I found little on my own. Few of the Lion spirits who dwell in the Hall of Ancestors recall an Ikoma Genju. Those that did say that he was the fourth to swear fealty to Yoritomo I, after Nariaki, Doji Chomei, and Bayushi Yamato. The Kitsu do not recall what became of him. It is difficult to judge whether they hope to protect him, whether he truly disappeared, or they merely do not remember. Spirits can be unreliable witnesses."

"Yet you let a spirit drive you in your quest," Gohei said.

"This is different," Argcklt suddenly said from the back seat. "Okura was important in life, a man who left much undone. Okura-spirit has ties here. Spirits with great ties to our world are more lucid."

"Hmm..." Gohei was quiet for a moment, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"You have an idea?" Jurin asked.

"Ties to our world..." Gohei grumbled. "Well, no matter the time, there's always one thing that holds true."

"Yes?" Jurin asked.

"If you want to know a secret..." Gohei trailed off. "Are Nariaki, Chomei, and Yamato interred in the city?"

"I assume they would be," Jurin said. "They lived their entire life--" She stopped, suddenly realizing Gohei's meaning.

"And why not?" Gohei asked, turning to face her. "Who would have more ties in the world?"

"Gohei-sama," Jurin said, turning the wheel in a wide arc as they headed onto the highways, "If this works, I shall be quite impressed."

"Then I shall pray that it does not work," the Lion Champion said wryly. "I would hate to set a disturbing precedent."


Neo Shiba.

At the end of the Shadow Wars, the Phoenix came here. The Shadowlands were still a warped and evil place then, still corrupted by the dark magics that had lurked for two millennia despite. The Isawa and Asako called upon magics devised by the Kuni family long ago, drawing the Taint out of the lands forever, leaving them barren but clean. Here, deep in what was once the Shadowlands, the Phoenix found a temple. Its name was Eikisaku, and it had been lost to the Crab since the time of the first war against Fu Leng. Against all odds, it stood. The walls were blackened from the dark things that had lived there, the walls covered with profane curses and terrible images depicting goblin atrocity, but the temple stood.

The Phoenix were deeply moved, and seized upon the temple as a symbol of all that was good and strong. The walls were cleaned. The offending offal and refuse of countless beasts was removed. The temple's mystical bell was found and restored. When the Phoenix decided to permanently move their provinces to the Shadowlands to help the Asako in their vigil over the Great Seal, there was no question where their first city would be founded.

Neo Shiba is unlike other Rokugani cities. It's location deep in the old Shadowlands has left it bereft of natural resources, so the Phoenix have been forced to depend upon their magic. The city is a testament to the art of tetsukami. Roads are elevated for ease of pedestrian travel. The sky is filled with those relying upon Asako gyrocopters or their own magic to move about the city. Buildings are constructed without sharp corners, to better channel the flow of the elements. Everything in the city is fresh and new, sparkling with cutting edge inventions of the greatest Phoenix minds.

At the center of the city stands the home of the Phoenix Champion, overlooking the ancient Eikisaku Temple. Sumi stood at a fifth story dining room window within the great mansion, gazing out at Eikisaku. She been here for four days now. Shiba Gensu had greeted her upon her arrival with a courtesy that was clearly forced.

Though Sumi was Phoenix Champion, she knew full well what Gensu thought of her rule. Sumi had arrived in Neo Shiba to discover that Gensu had taken the Champion's home for himself, ostensibly to care for it in her absence. He seemed somewhat surprised to learn that Sumi had not arrived in Neo Shiba at the head of an army, but with only a small retinue, three injured and near death. He was even more surprised to see the two Naga that also accompanied her.

This city is unlike anything that has come before. It is unlike anything that will come again. This is the power of mortal man, the power to create to the limits of his imagination.

Sumi smiled a bit at the thought. It wasn't often that the Soul was awed. She did not know which of the spirits that mixed with her own had made the observation; lately she could not tell one from another. The many voices within the Soul of Shiba no longer frightened her. She was beginning to learn to separate herself from them, to see them as merely advisors. They were eyes into another time, and even Shiba was sometimes as confused and uncertain as Sumi. They weren't invaders. They were friends.

She wondered what would happen next. She knew better than to trust Gensu, but had no one else to turn to. Neo Shiba was not far from the Shinomen and the injuries her yojimbo had sustained during the battle against Nitobe could be healed nowhere else. She had sent messages to Asako Kul and Isawa Kujimitsu, but had not heard any response. Hardly a surprise; Kul and Kujimitsu were two of the busiest men in the clan, if not Rokugan. She would wait here, for a time.

Zin and Szash chafed at the inaction, but Sumi wished to make no mistakes. Sumi had seen Kashrak's power during her last visit Downtown. She knew she had been headstrong and thoughtless in her rush to chase after Zin, and the Soul seemed to agree. Only luck had allowed them to defeat Asako Nitobe. She could not rely upon luck against Kashrak. She was the Champion of the Phoenix, with the resources of a Great Clan at her disposal. She would show this Kashrak what that sort of power meant.

"Sumi-sama?" said a quiet voice behind her. She turned to see Shiba Jo drop into a deep bow. Of the five bushi that had followed her, Jo was the only one who had returned intact. He was a small man with darting eyes and a strangely musical voice, and his loyalty was unquestioned. Since their arrival at Neo Shiba, Jo was careful not let Sumi out of his sight for long, and never left her alone with Gensu if he could help it. He seemed a little overzealous at times, but Sumi appreciated his presence.

"Yes, Jo?" she asked. "Did you visit the hospital?"

Jo nodded quickly. "As you commanded, my lady," he said. "Naora remains in critical condition, but Ikuyo has stabilized. The doctors say that if it had not been for the Unicorn's magic, both would have been lost. I... owe Kenyu-sama a great debt."

Sumi nodded. She had noticed the subtle glances between Jo and Ikuyo, but knew it was not her place to mention the matter. "And Hogai?" she prompted.

"Shiba Hogai," Jo's eyes dropped to the ground, his melodious voice cracking slightly. "Shiba Hogai passed on to Yoma this morning. The impact of the wounds inflicted by the Sanshu Denki and the traitor was too great for even Neo Shiba's great surgeons to heal."

Sumi nodded. She felt a wave of sorrow flow through her, not all of it her own. The Soul of Shiba mourned the loss of its kinsman, and her heart went out in sympathy. "Tell them that I will come to see them as soon as I-" she paused, her voice thick.

"We understand that you are busy, my lady," Jo said, quickly looking away. Jo knew that Sumi's father had died during the terrible fire at Phoenix Mercy Hospital, and since then she had been wary of the places; the only night she had been in a hospital since was the night Shinsei was unveiled and even that had troubled her. He said nothing, but the sympathy in his voice spoke volumes.

"My thanks, Jo," she said with a grateful nod.

"It was my fault, Sumi-sama," Jo said suddenly. "I knew that Hogai's injuries were too great to allow him to face Nitobe. I was a coward to allow him to go on while I-"

"You remained with Ikuyo upon my orders, not your own," Sumi said sharply, interrupting the yojimbo. "If his death was anyone's failure, it was mine. Shiba Hogai was a brave warrior. If you wish to repay him for his sacrifice, see that his courage is not forgotten."

Jo paused for a moment, then nodded again. "Yes, Sumi-sama."

"What of Zin and the others?" she asked.

"Zin remains at the libraries, seeking knowledge of the Shadow Wars," Jo said. "Her presence has made quite a stir. With both Szash and Iuchi Kenyu at her side, I believe she is quite safe, Sumi-sama."

"Why would she not be?" Sumi replied.

Jo shifted his shoulders slightly, looking somewhat uncomfortable. "With all due respect, my lady, the Phoenix in Neo Shiba are not like those in Otosan Uchi. It is difficult to determine where their loyalties lie."

Sumi folded her arms stiffly. "What have you heard?"

"Nothing," Jo answered, his eyes suddenly hard and clear. "Conspicuously, nothing. When your duty is to protect another's life, silence is as profound as sound, my lady. Silence bodes ill. You know how certain factions resent your ascension."

"What do you recommend?" Sumi asked. "I cannot openly accuse the-"

Jo suddenly held up one finger, turning his head slightly. "Someone approaches, my lady." The yojimbo quickly stepped back and to one side, moving just behind Sumi's right shoulder.

The doors of the dining room opened and the tall, thin figure of Shiba Gensu stepped into the room with a chuckle. "Ah," he said. "There you are, Sumi-sama. I've been looking all over for you. It seems you're never quite where anyone expects you to be, eh?" Gensu was young for his position, and dressed the part of the dashing warrior. He wore the ornate plasteel armor of the Shiba House Guard, pistol and katana sheathed at either hip. His hair was long and tied into a thick braid with elaborate ribbons. His face hung in a perpetual smirk.

To Gensu's right walked a tall, lithe woman, another Shiba. Her face was expressionless, and her right arm ended in a orange plastic tetsukami prosthetic. Sumi recognized her as Katsumi, who was maimed when Oni no Kaze attacked the Temple of the Elements. Sumi did not recognize the man that followed Gensu to his left. He was a young man with angular features and wide green eyes. He wore the thick formal robes of a shugenja, though she did not recognize the symbols scrawled upon his sleeves and haori.

An Inquisitor, those who judge the Tainted. Their power is limited by only the Emperor and the Masters themselves. Tread carefully; their kind have brought down dynasties.

Sumi blinked. The Soul of Shiba sounded agitated, even frightened. She reacted instinctively, taking a step back. She sensed Jo tense with her movement.

"Is there a problem, Sumi-sama?" Gensu replied with a quick laugh. "I did not mean to frighten you in your own home. And is this not your home, my Champion?" Gensu gave a tight smile.

"Yes," Sumi said, the voice of the Soul filling her own with confidence. "By right of the sword I bear. What do you want, samurai?"

"Just to introduce you to a friend," Gensu replied curling his lip a bit at the insulting inferior address. He turned to indicate the man to his left. "This is Magistrate Asako Yao, a student of esoteric theology. He has been eager to meet you since hearing of your arrival."

"Greetings, Inquisitor," Sumi said, turning to look at the man pointedly.

Yao blinked. "I believe you have the advantage of me, my lady," he said with a short bow. "I was not aware you knew of my position. There are few of us left. Our positions have been adopted mostly by the Seekers in these modern times and our studies are so obscure as to--"

"The Soul of Shiba tells me everything I need to know," Sumi answered, "and I am not an Isawa."

"Our new Champion has some rather... revolutionary ideas for uniting the Phoenix families," Gensu said with a small laugh. "Apparently, Sumi means to stand above us all. Rather like a protective mother, don't you think?"

"Gensu, if you look upon me as a mother, then I find it rather curious you wish to marry me," Sumi retorted.

That was foolish. In wars of words, he who strikes blood first, loses.

Gensu frowned. "I do not wish to marry you personally, Sumi," he replied. "I merely believe it would be best for the mantle of the Championship to return whence it belongs. A political marriage would be advantageous for all the families"

"Advantageous for your family, you mean," Sumi retorted. The Soul chided her for antagonizing Gensu again, but she couldn't help it. The man's smug bearing irritated her, and her temper was beginning to flare.

"My loyalty is ever to the Phoenix," Gensu said stiffly. "Sadly, I do not have time to argue. I have come on urgent business."

Do not trust him. Cast him from your presence and begone. Quit this place and seek Asako allies at the Seal.

"I simply don't have time to speak with you right now, Gensu," Sumi said sharply. "I was about to leave."

"So quickly?" Gensu asked mildly. "With two of your yojimbo recuperating in the hospital? Surely you have a little time, Sumi-sama. Is five minutes to speak with the daimyo of the Shiba too much to ask?"

Sumi's eyes narrowed. She didn't need the Soul of Shiba to see that the man was up to something, but she had no way out. The mansion might be hers in theory, but it was filled with guards loyal to Gensu. She would have to hear him out. "Speak," she said.

"My thanks," Gensu said with an exaggerated bow. "Magistrate, if you will."

"Shiba-sama," Yao replied, bowing to Gensu. Sumi noticed that the magistrate bowed more deeply to Gensu than he had while greeting her. "My lady, shortly after your arrival here, Shiba-sama passed to me a mission of utmost importance. It has been my honor to see to the health and recuperation of your injured yojimbo, Shiba Hogai, Shiba Ikuyo, and Shiba Naora." He produced a thick sheaf of papers from somewhere within his robes. "The reports the surgeons have delivered to me have had the most... disturbing implications."

"Explain," Sumi replied.

"Well, to put it bluntly," the Inquisitor replied, "the wounds borne by all three yojimbo seem to be the products of maho. Hogai, the man who died, proved to have been slain through the outright corruption of his heart and digestive system. His body decayed from the inside, twisted by the Shadowlands."

"It was Asako Nitobe," Sumi replied. "He was a tsukai, and Dark Oracle of Water. The death of my father and destruction of Phoenix Mercy were both his doing. He confessed as much to Zin and myself before we slew him."

Yao nodded, pursing his lips. "And yet there was no body," he said. "The men we dispatched to the Shinomen found no sign of Doctor Nitobe."

"Zin severed him from Jigoku's power," Sumi answered, irritation plain upon her face. "His own corruption caused his body to decay in minutes after I killed him. What are you implying, Inquisitor?"

"Implying?" Yao asked, glancing at Gensu. "I imply nothing. I simply present evidence. We have evidence of maho, yet no evidence of a maho tsukai. Under closer consideration, your story seems unclear, my lady."

"Unclear?" Sumi spat. "Then let me clarify it for you. I am the Phoenix Champion. My testimony outweighs any evidence you could bring to bear. If I say Asako Nitobe was a maho-tsukai, then, damnit, he was a maho-tsukai. Is that clear?"

"I am afraid not," Yao replied. "To put matters simply, I cannot allow maho-tsukai to run rampant in the Diamond Empire. All shugenja who were present with your party in the Shinomen must be held in custody until we can determine the truth of the matter. I am afraid that, since you are also a shugenja, this includes you, my lady. To do otherwise is too great a risk."

"I am the Phoenix Champion," Sumi repeated. "You cannot hold me."

But as soon as she spoke the words, Sumi knew they were wrong.

"Ah," Shiba Gensu said, holding up a single finger. "A slight technicality. The Celestial Inquisition does not answer to the Champion. The Celestial Inquisition answers to the Elemental Masters. And was not the last man to pass into the Soul of Shiba before you, your father Zul Rashid, corrupted by the Taint? Perhaps the Soul is not always so pure as it once was."

He leaves something out.

The Soul of Shiba flooded Sumi's mind with memories, facts regarding the Celestial Inquisition and their operations. Sumi shook her head. "You cannot accuse a Champion," she said. "Not without a vote by the Elemental Masters."

"We already have one," Gensu said with a curt nod. "Asahina Munashi-sama returned the verdict today. Four in favor, one against. Oh, by the way, your friend Kujimitsu was attempting to contact you from Otosan Uchi, Sumi-sama. I'm sure it was nothing important."

Sumi shot the Shiba daimyo a dark look, but held her tongue in check. To say anything else would make matters worse. "If you would accompany me, my lady?" Asako Yao asked mildly.

"Of course," Sumi said, stepping forward. "Justice must be done." Shiba Jo stepped forth at her side.

"Remove the sword," Gensu commanded, "and leave your yojimbo here."

Sumi turned. "Jo will remain, but I will not surrender Ofushikai."

Gensu's eyebrows rose. "Do you not trust me with the sword my ancestor once held?"

Yao frowned and shook his head slightly.

Give him the sword. Let him have his victory. Distance is of no moment. We will always be with you.

Sumi nodded, removed Ofushikai by its saya, drew it from its sheath, and placed both on the dining room table. "There it is," she said. "If you can take it, it's yours."

With that, she turned and allowed Asako Yao to lead her from the room. Shiba Katsumi followed, one hand ready on the handle of her pistol. Gensu turned to Shiba Jo, smiling slightly and tugging at his long braid.

"And what of you, yojimbo?" Gensu asked. "Where do your loyalties lie?"

"I will always serve the Phoenix," Jo replied simply. "May I leave? I'd like to check on my friends at the hospital."

"Of course," Gensu nodded. "Begone."

Jo bowed and left the room with an unhurried march. Gensu had no doubt that the yojimbo would attempt to notify Sumi's allies at the library. It did not matter. They were already being dealt with. Gensu stepped forward, a smile of victory spreading across his face as he looked upon the pearl handled blade of the Phoenix. The blade shimmered in the dim light of the dining room, ripples passing along the surface as if a stream kissed the blade. All was as Munashi had said. A single stroke, and the Phoenix would be reunited. As soon as they saw that Ofushikai had returned to the rightful hand of--

"Gates of Jigoku!" Gensu cursed in anger.

He reached out again, but the result was the same. When he touched the metal, it vanished. As he drew his hand back, the sword returned with a metallic clink. Shiba Gensu pounded his fist on the table in impotent fury, then stormed out of the room.


"The Marks have been placed, Orin-sama," the young Dragon said, bowing deeply. "The Dragon who remain in the city will soon know what has transpired and gather here as you command."

"It's not my command," Orin complained, looking up from the newspaper he was reading at the top of the stairs. "Hisojo said-"

"Lord Wake appreciates your expediency, Mirumoto-san," Daidoji Ishio replied, saluting sharply. The Dragon smiled in pride, then straightened and hurried off down the stairs.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Orin said, thumbing through the paper again. "It only encourages them."

"I know," the Crane said. "I think it's funny." He turned to look at Orin, raising one eyebrow with a smirk.

"I don't know what Kameru sees in you damned Cranes," Orin grumbled.

The skittering of uncontrolled toenails sounded from down the hallway. Orin looked up in surprise just as a twenty pound ball of fur crashed through his newspaper and began licking his face. "Akkan!" Orin shouted, trying to push the dog away and salvage the paper. "Akkan, down! Meliko!"

"She likes you, Orin," Togashi Meliko said happily, skipping down the hallway to meet them. She was dressed in a short green t-shirt, a shorter black skirt, and boots. Orin stood up as he dislodged the dog, trying not to stare at her as he did so. He kept trying to tell himself that she was too young, or that he didn't want to become involved with the Dragon Clan, but those arguments seemed so weak whenever she was around.

"Any news, Mel?" Ishio asked, leaning back against the banister.

Meliko shook her head. Her hair was a dark orange today, and her eyes blue. "Hisojo and Chojin say they've managed to contact most of the Dragons still hiding in the city, and they're safe. It looks like no one really believes the news reports about what happened at the Palace, since there were no functioning cameras to film us. We're all over the tabloids, of course, but that's nothing new. They've known about us for years." She giggled and squatted to lift Akkan into her arms. The puppy wagged its tail against her side happily.

"You mean all that stuff in Secrets on the Wind is for real?" Ishio asked, amazed.

"Most of it's understated, actually," she said with a mischievous grin. "We've had two Dragons on their editing staff for years. You remember that story a few years back about the Dragon-cloned bat mutant child? I wrote that one. I was an intern for a summer."

"No way," Ishio said. "I loved that story."

"Relevance?" Orin said sharply, looking from the Crane to the Dragon. "What in Ragnus are you two talking about? Does it really matter how much Joe Rokugan knows about the Hidden Dragon? Normal folks aren't the real threat. The real problems are Yogo Ishak, the Stormbreaker, and their friends. We know damned well that they know too much about us or Lord Hoshi would still be alive and we'd still be in the Factory. The question is, how much do they know? Are we safe here?"

"We?" asked a voice. Agasha Hisojo emerged from the apartment at the end of the hall, an enigmatic smile on his face. "One would almost imagine that you had come to accept the burden Lord Hoshi placed upon you, Orin Wake." Mirumoto Chojin appeared a step behind the elderly shugenja. With his dirty t-shirt, torn blue jeans, and beer belly Chojin looked very little like the master weaponsmith Hisojo proclaimed him to be.

Orin shook his head with a sigh. "I'm not a Dragon," he said. "No matter what you people think Hoshi said to me, I never will be a Dragon. It's just that... that..."

"That you do not understand what is right, only that the right must be done?" Hisojo asked. "If that is the question that tears your soul, you are more a Dragon than many born to the name."

Orin mumbled something under his breath and stomped over to look out the window. Talking to Hisojo was like trying to fit ten pounds of greasy marbles in a five pound bag. Meliko stood by his side and rested a comforting hand on his arm, calmly looking out into the alley with him. He glanced down at her and smiled, but looked away before she noticed.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd love to be a Dragon," Ishio said with a grin. "Can I have one of those magic tattoos?"

"Perhaps later," Chojin said, nodding at the big bushi. "We have much to do." The weaponsmith held what looked to be a sword in his hands, wrapped tightly in rice paper. He moved near Orin and waited for the gaijin to turn around.

"Yes?" Orin said, looking at Chojin curiously. "What's that?"

"It's a sword," Chojin replied.

Orin frowned. "What do I need a sword for?" he asked.

"You hit things with it," Chojin said. "It cuts them. I hear they make good weapons, in a pinch."

"Chojin," Hisojo chided. "Orin, I must return to Togashi Mountain, to the Factory. I must instruct Mirumoto Rojo and the others as to what is to be done now that we can no longer rely upon secrecy. I must reinforce our troops there with a the Otosan Uchi Dragons that are now homeless thanks to Ishak's rampage. While I am gone, you will lead the Dragon. At this time, you may interject your customary grumble of reluctance."

"Me?" Orin exclaimed. "Lead the Dragon?"

"I owe you five hyakurai, Hisojo," Chojin clicked his tongue. "Guessed what he'd say, right on the money."

Orin sighed. "This isn't funny. You know how I feel about this, Hisojo," he said. He looked at the wrapped blade apprehensively. "Isn't Chojin more suitable?"

"Ha!" Chojin laughed. "I'm just an old swordsmith. You'd be better off with the Crane." He nodded at Ishio.

"I'll lead the Dragon if I can have a tattoo," Ishio said, looking from Hisojo to Chojin. Both studiously ignored him.

"It must be you," Hisojo said, his clear voice rising in intensity. "Whether or not there is any meaning in Hoshi's gesture at the Diamond Factory, the Hidden Dragon believe that his words had meaning. That is, in itself, a meaning is it not? It is meant to be, Orin. Take the sword. Lead the Dragon. If not you, then who?"

"Orin?" Meliko said, tugging at his arm. "I know you can do it. Please?"

Orin took another reluctant look at the sword, then nodded slowly. He unwrapped the ancient blade, revealing a beautiful katana with a golden hilt, a roaring bear emblazoned upon the tsuba. Orin looked up at Chojin curiously. "A bear?" he said.

"Yes," Chojin said. "It seemed appropriate when I forged it. Is something wrong?"

"No," Orin mumbled, removing the rest of the wrappings. "No... It's just that the bear... it has been the crest of my family since the times when the Yodatai ruled the world."

"Hm," Chojin nodded pertly. "Must be a coincidence, eh?"

"We must return to our work now, Orin," Hisojo said. "The spell that will return us to the mountain is complex, and the calculations will take time."

Chojin and Hisojo returned the way they came, leaving Orin to stare at the sword. Meliko stood on her toes to look over Orin's shoulder. She held the puppy up so it could take a look, too. The dog whined until she put it down. "That's so pretty," she said. "I've never seen a sword like it, not even in Chojin's armory. They must have been saving it special."

Ishio just stared at the blade wide-eyed.

"What?" Orin asked him.

"Were you serious just then?" the Crane asked. "About your family crest being a bear and all?"

"Dead serious," Orin replied. "A bear rearing against a full moon. It looks very much like the one on this sword."

"Man, that's creepy," Ishio whistled. "I want to be a Dragon more than ever now. If they make you the daimyo, I'll be the first one to swear fealty, Orin."

"They're not going to make me daimyo, you oversized doofus," Orin snapped as he drew the sword. He felt a sudden tingle across the back of his neck as he gazed into the blade's surface. He felt strangely detached, as if... something... was nearby. "Meliko? Ishio?" he said. "Could the two of you leave me alone for a moment?"

Ishio nodded. "Sure thing." He headed off down the stairs.

Meliko looked at him curiously. She scratched the little dog behind the ears as she regarded him with her strange eyes, violet now. "Are you all right, Orin?" she asked. Her mouth tied into a little frown.

"I'm fine," he smiled at her reassuringly. "I don't think anything will surprise me anymore, but I'm fine. I'll meet you downstairs, Mel."

"Okay," she said, smiling suddenly at his use of her nickname. She trotted off down the stairs, still holding Akkan under one arm.

"All right," Orin said, tilting his head toward the ceiling as he sheathed the bear-sword. "Come out, whatever you are."

The air shimmered, twisting into a coil of absolute darkness that surrounded Orin, scattered here and there with pinpoints of light. It seemed very much like a patch of the night sky had filled the hallway, hovering just above Orin Wake. A moment later, the coil twisted and changed, revealing a large, reptilian head.

"Prophecy is an amusing tool, don't you think?" the creature said, its voice echoing strangely in the chambers of Orin's mind. "'The serpent writhes in the bowels of the dream, the shadow of death rises to consume all. Bloody haze. The lost are found. The old are new? Newer than old than older than new. The crow hides from the storm and no rain comes to put out the fire. The First Coming becomes the Last Coming and we can do nothing, nothing, nothing...' They've known it all since the beginning, but what good does it do them?"

"What are you?" Orin asked, steel eyes fixed upon the creature. His hand did not move from the katana's hilt.

"I am Void, the last Elemental Dragon," the creature replied. "And you are Orin, first gaijin daimyo of the Dragon Clan."

"You speak nonsense," Orin snapped.

"Oh. I'm sorry, Orin," the dragon twisted to stared own at him. "Time is such a single piece for those of my kind. I certainly hope I didn't give away the ending." The dragon laughed, a hollow, eerie sound.

"What do you want from me?" Orin demanded.

"I deal in favors," the Dragon said. "I bring aid where it is needed, and assure that there is balance between good and evil."

"Funny how Hisojo didn't mention you," Orin said.

"Hisojo has never needed my help," Void said. "It is the Lord of the Dragon Clan's duty to see the future, not his vassals. I helped Lord Hoshi in this regard. I will help you, as well, if you wish it. Do you wish to hear of the future?"

"What is your price?" Orin asked.

"Must there be a price?" the dragon mused.

"A creature so powerful as you claim to be must have ulterior motives, or you would have made your presence known before now," Orin said. "What are your motives?"

"Those are two different questions, but I think Lord Hoshi did well in choosing you," the Dragon said. "I do have a price, and I do have a motive. Each time I assist Jigoku, I assist Yoma. Every aid brings a balance, until the Day of Thunder comes. That was Earth's decision. I come now to serve you, Orin Wake, to tell you the truth. My motives, I keep to myself. For now."

"Go on," Orin said.

"The first time I came to Lord Hoshi, he asked me who the Thunders would be," the dragon said. "I told him where they would be born, who they would be, and what must be done to insure that they would be ready. The next day I visited the Stormbreaker and notified him where he could find the four allies that would make his plan complete. The khadi, the Oracle, the guardsman, and the geisha. I told them both other things, a Dark Oracle could never kill a Thunder, the Stormbreaker was not meant to be the Champion of Jigoku, that sort of thing, but the first two questions were the most important. Four allies in return for Seven Thunders. An unfair deal, don't you think?"

"Who said life was fair?" Orin answered.

"Oh, life is fair," the Dragon laughed. "A game always seems unfair when one is on the losing side, don't you agree? The Hidden Dragon were fools to follow Lord Hoshi. He was wise, yes. Powerful? Definitely. Perfect? Hardly. The power of a kami, spoiled by the foolish drives and emotions of the human who bore his genes. The worst elements of mortal and immortal. Had he the power of a mortal and the wisdom of a god, then he would have truly been perfect."

"If you're so helpful," Orin said, "Then why didn't you warn the Dragons of Hoshi's imperfection?"

The Dragon smiled. "Would they listen?" it said. "I could just as well have warned the goblins of the Kashrak's obsessive self-interest. That would have won them the Shadow Wars, but to tell them would have made no difference. Instead, I used Hoshi's imperfection to my advantage."

"How did you do that?" Orin asked.

"Four allies for Seven Thunders?" the Dragon said. "No. That is no deal Four Thunders and three lies."

"If you lied three times, why not seven?" Orin asked. "Or eight? How do I know I can trust you at all, creature?"

"Now you are beginning to think," the dragon said. "What a refreshing trait to find in a Togashi." The Dragon of the Void began to fade.

"One more question," Orin demanded.

"Yes?" the dragon asked, eyes sparkling with interest.

"You mention that you help both sides," Orin said. "'Every aid brings a balance,' you said. Now that you have told me this, what aid will you give the Stormbreaker's minions?"

"This is not aid," the Dragon chuckled as it vanished. "This is a balance."

The Dragon was gone. A creak emanated from the bottom of the stairs and Orin peered down, squinting in the sudden sunlight. Meliko and Ishio stepped back into the building, but another man and woman now stood with them. Orin recognized neither. The man held Akkan in his arms, stroking the dog fondly behind the collar.

"Who are you?" Orin asked bluntly.

"I have come to see Agasha Hisojo," the man replied, meeting Orin Wake's gaze with a grin. "I believe he will be expecting me."

"Who are you?" Orin demanded.

"An former tenant," the man said. "Or the Dragon Clan Thunder. Either will do."


Walking the Way is not a practice to be undertaken lightly. Only the most experienced shugenja can attempt to open a portal and, once there, the possible dangers are endless. The Way weaves between the heartbeats of reality, between the world of dreams and the physical. It is a place where life is not intended to exist, where nothing is intended to exist. Air creates the doorway, but all elements are neutral once one steps within. There is no evil in the Way. There is no good in the Way. There is nothing in the Way, and the Way is everywhere.

Today, the nothingness of the way was quite full.

Zul Rashid placed one foot before the next, an expression of intense concentration twisting his scarred face. His eyes pulsed red, though the glaring infection of the Taint had not worsened since his escape from the Caverns of Twilight. His gleaming eyes searched for any signs of danger. The Way was neither dark nor light. All seemed safe and stable, but Rashid was no less wary. Unbound by conventional rules of reality, the Way could shift dramatically without a moment's warning. Behind him, he could hear the nervous voices and quiet sobs of the refugees, the handful of survivors from Holy Home City who followed him. The Way disturbed them, as well it should. For days they had traveled, without food, water, or rest and with need of none as he led them on the slow road to Neo Shiba. Somewhere among them was the ratling, Thi'kwithatch, who had rescued Rashid from the dungeons of Kuni Ishan.

Rashid knew why Thi'kwithatch had rescued him. It was not because of any friendship, or loyalty, or belief that Rashid deserved to survive. The nezumi had risked his life because he could not open the portal to the Way with his own meager magic. Rashid could. Without Rashid's help, the survivors of Holy Home would be found and overwhelmed by the Byoki, with or without the blessed spirit of the Shadow Samurai to protect them. Thi'kwithatch saved Rashid for the same reason he did everything else, for the good of his people.

In his heart, the dark Master of Air found that he could not blame Thi'kwithatch for his actions. Truly, he had done nothing to inspire trust in the nezumi priest or his charges. Quite the opposite, in fact, for it had been Rashid's foolish meddling that had led to Hitomi Shougo's madness. The unfortunate ise zumi and his brothers were gone, having traveled on their own to Togashi Mountain.

And what had Shougo's sacrifice accomplished? Rashid had only succeeded in letting the School of Enlightenment capture him. What had he hoped to do? Kill his father? He should have known better; khadi did not die so easily.

A cold thought swept over Zul Rashid. Perhaps he did know better. Perhaps he knew full well that he would be captured and twisted by the power of the Shadowlands. Perhaps some small part of him suspected the fate that would befall Hitomi Shougo. Rashid looked down at his left hand, twisted and covered with corroded wires and circuitry. Maybe his struggle to fight the influence of Oni no Kaze's curse had not been as successful as he had believed. Perhaps he was already lost.

No.

Hida Sukune had revealed himself to Rashid, had set him on this quest. The Shadow Samurai had revealed his father's identity so that he could save his blackened soul. There was no other possibility.

There could be no other possibility.

If Zul Rashid were to allow himself to accept that he might already have succumbed to the influence of the oni, he may as well give up. He looked back at the sallow faces of the frightened refugees that huddled behind him. He could not admit failure until all of them were safe. Until Rokugan was safe, he would go on.

A low rumble seemed to echo through the endless tunnel. Rashid glanced about in surprise, but none of the others seemed to notice. Something was coming. Someone else was here, traveling beyond the boundaries of reality for reasons of their own. Rashid mumbled the words of magic and extended his perceptions outward. There was nothing to sense in the Way, naturally, and that was the trick of it. Anything that could be sensed, anything that could be perceived, anything that was in any way notable was alien. As Rashid opened his senses to the Way, he staggered back, reeling.

"Rashid?" asked Thi'kwithatch, hurrying to the Phoenix's side. "Something is the matter?"

"Something is wrong," Rashid growled through clenched teeth. "Something is wrong with the Way."

The power he felt churning through the ethereal world was the same he felt running through his own veins. The dark power of Jigoku had seeped into the space between the elements. Someone was here, twisting the Way, Tainting it. Rashid could sense the presence growing closer, attracted by Rashid's magic.

"Rashid-sama?" Thi'kwithatch chirped. The nezumi's whiskers trembled nervously. He, too, could sense something rapidly approaching.

"You must leave," Rashid said, eyes still focused straight ahead. "You must take the others, and leave the Way. We're far enough from Holy Home. The journey will not be easy, but you will be safe from the onis." The khadi held one hand outward and clenched his fist. A glowing portal spiraled into being, wide enough and large enough for three men to walk abreast. Beyond it, the rolling fields of Rokugan were visible. To Rashid's surprise, it was daytime.

Thi'kwithatch hurriedly gestured toward the refugees, ushering them through the swirling gate in threes. "You are coming with us?" the nezumi asked, casting a sharp eye at Rashid again.

Rashid shook his head.

Thi'kwithatch nodded slowly. "I do not want to leave you behind, Master of Air."

"I have already been left behind," Rashid replied with a sad smile. "You know what I'm becoming. It's safer for all of you if you're far away from me. Whatever that creature is, it will know something is wrong if it finds nothing. I must remain to meet it."

Thi'kwithatch nodded reluctantly and helped the last few children exit the Way. "Carry the Fortunes, Zul Rashid," the nezumi said, "may you walk at the side of Sukune."

"Thank you, Thi'kwithatch-sama," Rashid said with a bow of his head. The nezumi stepped back and the portal vanished.

Rashid turned his attention straight ahead again. He could sense the presence coming closer. He could smell its magic, its power, and its Taint. Whatever it was, it was not human. For a moment, Rashid was tempted to draw upon the infinite power of the darkness deep within, but resisted the urge. He would not pay that price. He would die first. He began to call upon the spirits of the air. Luckily, the Way's existence between the layers of reality placed it closer to the spirit world, strengthening Rashid's magic. Of course, that meant that whatever was approaching was strengthened as well. He braced himself for the worst.

Suddenly, a stranger was there. He was tall and thin, garbed in tattered robes of bloody violet. His face was gaunt, his eyes nothing more than twin black pools. His limbs were lost in the swirl of his robes, causing him to appear little more than a ragged ghost. When he saw Rashid standing before him, he smiled.

"Greetings," he said, his voice echoing eerily through the chambers of the Way. "I did not expect to see you here, Master of Air." Something seemed strange about the man, somehow wrong. He definitely bore the Taint, Rashid could sense that much, but there was little else. To Rashid's enhanced perceptions, the stranger seemed out of place.

"You know me?" Rashid demanded with as much courage as he could muster.

"There is little I do not know," the man replied seriously. "A Tainted khadi, traveling the Way from Holy Home City? Little chance of you being anyone else. I would hardly need to be an Oracle to divine your identity." The man smiled.

"Oracle?" Zul Rashid hissed.

"Yogo Ishak, Dark Oracle of the Void," the man replied with an exaggerated bow.

"There is no Dark Oracle of the Void," Rashid said.

"There is now," Ishak said, black eyes unblinking.

Rashid scowled, and summoned the power of the air. If the man was who he claimed to be, there was one thing yet he could do. The air around Rashid suddenly crackled and a bolt of pure white lighting hammered forth from the khadi's fists.

"No," Ishak said, and the lightning vanished.

Rashid called for the spirits' aid again, but Ishak's eyes narrowed.

"No," the Oracle repeated.

Rashid gasped in pain as his powers of magic were suddenly torn away. Pain and weakness flooded his body. He fell to his knees, fingers scraping against the smooth, featureless surface of the Way. He heard the quiet approach of footsteps, heard the whispering swish of Yogo Ishak's robes as he walked. He looked up to see the hem of the Oracle's tattered robe, the leathery red boots he wore beneath.

"Kill me," Rashid choked. He could not even rise to look into Ishak's eyes.

Ishak squatted at the khadi's side, tilting Rashid's head upward with a gentle hand. The Oracle's black eyes were thoughtful. "You are not so far gone as Ishan would have me believe," Ishak said. "Your heart is gone, but your soul remains. How sad for you, to die from the outside inward."

"Kill me," Rashid repeated.

"That would be merciful, would it not?" Ishak replied. "And logical You are an enemy. You were certainly hoping I would kill you. You could not possibly have believed you had a chance against me. Yet, I think that I will not."

He drew his hand away, letting Rashid's head fall forward again. The Oracle stood and regarded at the fallen khadi for several moments. "Here is something for you to think about," Ishak said. "For all my power, for all my immortality and mastery of magic, I am not free. I am bound by rules. Less confining than the rules of most Oracles, but rules all the same. I serve the will of Jigoku without question lest my power be revoked." Ishak began to pace slowly before Rashid.

"What's your point?" Rashid hissed weakly.

"Memory," Ishak said. "Someone I once knew posed me an interesting question. They asked me what I would do if I crossed my own path, if I met myself in my youth, before I made the decisions I have made. What would I do? What would I say? Would I do anything to change the past? Would I deter myself from the path I have taken? At the time I could not answer. Rise."

Rashid felt his strength return. He quickly pushed himself to his feet, preparing to summon his magic once more.

"Please," Ishak said with a curt gesture. "We've been through this. I felled you with a word. Is this necessary?"

"What is your game, Oracle?" Rashid snarled.

"Is that your question?" Ishak asked, a glint in his eye. "You get one, you know. I could count your earlier question, but I'm the forgiving sort."

Rashid said nothing, simply waited.

"I look into your eyes, Zul Rashid, and I see myself," the Oracle said. "There is little different between us. I was as unwilling as you were, in the beginning, but circumstances demanded my surrender. I know the answer to my friend's question, now."

"And what is the answer?" Rashid asked.

"I will do nothing," Ishak said. "I will do nothing, and leave you to fail. I pity you, Phoenix, but I will not help you. You are weak and miserable and not worth my effort. Trudge on into Jigoku, my friend, and if you have the courage, then die. If you do not, I will assure you that we will meet again."

With that, Yogo Ishak pushed past Rashid and continued his journey through the strange half-darkness of the Way. Zul Rashid simply stood where he was and watched the Dark Oracle go.

"You are wrong, Oracle," Rashid said, as he turned and continued on his own path.

He wondered if it was true.


Though Efe' had lived in Otosan Uchi all his life, he was an outsider. He was a gaijin, and an obvious one. His dark skin and thick accent proclaimed his birth to everyone that met him. Unfortunately, Efe' did not have that one single attribute that makes all the difference between a beloved visitor and a shunned outcast. Money.

Efe' had come to Otosan Uchi years ago, after dropping out of college and using the shank of his student loan to purchase a trip. He'd heard a lot about the wonders of the Diamond Empire, and had dreamed of journeying there since he was a little boy. It was everything it promised to be - towers of glass and steel as tall as the sky. Samurai who walked the streets like in the days of old, though their armor and weapons were a bit more modern. And magic. Real magic. Oh, the Scorpion told the peasants and tourists that there wasn't any, but you had to be a fool not to see it. The sparkle of lightning on the crest of the Diamond Palace. The supernatural gleam of the Shiba's fiery red armor. The amazing tetsukami everywhere you turned, wonders so fantastic that the natives took them for granted. As soon as Efe' laid eyes on Rokugan, he knew that he'd come home.

Unfortunately, the feeling wasn't mutual. Rokugan saw Efe' as an unwelcome visitor, an alien in the midst of perfection. Sadly, the same powerful traditions and unity that had made Rokugan so special also gave the Diamond Empire a special hatred of the outside world, and even after fifteen years living here, Efe' was still not welcome. He was forced to take extensive tests every other year to maintain his visa and the only job he could get was as a janitor at the Imperial Tombs.

The name was a misnomer; the Emperors weren't buried there. They were interred somewhere in the Palace itself, along with the Hantei, Osamu, Toturi, and other Emperors. The Imperial Tombs housed the greatest heroes of Rokugan, and their descendants often came to pay homage. The Imperial Tombs were a national treasure, but the job was not. The hours were long, the pay was terrible, and the place was haunted.

When Efe' first heard the tombs were haunted, he laughed it off. In his homeland, "haunted" meant maybe you heard a scary noise at night or your great grandmother remembers a tale of a ghost in the hallway. In Rokugan, "haunted" was a more serious proposition. In the Imperial Tombs, "haunted" meant "chaos." The spirits of samurai of every clan were interred here, and got along with another just as poorly in death as they had in life.

The spirits of the ancestors, shiryo, frequently visited their graves. They sang mournful dirges, stumbled through the hallways at odd hours, or raged through the shrine overturning offerings left to the spirits of their enemies. Some of them were confused by their death, and could be incredibly violent. His first week working here, Efe' narrowly escaped a belligerent eighteenth century Hida general before one of the shugenja from the shrine arrived to calm the spirit.

A lesser man would have quit, but Efe' got used to it after a while. He even grew to like some of the more colorful spirits. All in all, he figured it was a small price to live in Rokugan. No one else wanted his job. So long as he toughed it out, he could stay here. Efe' didn't mind. He heard somewhere once that it was better to rule in hell than to serve in heaven. He didn't agree. So long as he could live in Otosan Uchi, gaze upon the glistening spires of Dojicorp, breathe the fresh sea breezes of Golden Sun Bay, and drink in the magic of the land, he was happy. Even despite all the trouble, he was happy. The trouble didn't touch him here. There was no sense causing trouble in a haunted cemetery, and no one cared enough to disturb Efe'.

A sharp knock at the gates snapped Efe' up from his reverie as he polished the name plates of some forgotten Kakita playwright. He peered down the cavernous hallway, polishing rag dangling from his hand. The Tombs were closed today, in preparation for tomorrow's Bon Festival. Bon Festival was always the biggest day of the year; you couldn't find a parking space for blocks for all the visitors to the Tombs. It was probably some shugenja who had accidentally locked himself out (they were so forgetful) or some pious supplicant who wanted to sneak in and wish his grandfather well before the big crush tomorrow. Efe' fumbled with the big key ring on his belt as he hurried toward the gates to see what was the matter.

In moments, he had the lock unfastened and pulled the heavy wooden gate upon just a crack so he could peer out. "Yes?" he said, his Rokugani still strangely accented even after so many years living here.

Efe' blinked. On the steps before the Tombs stood a man, a woman, and a short, squat green creature with glowing yellow eyes. Efe' loved to study the various strange creatures that lived in the Empire, and he recognized this one as a zokujin, one of the copper goblins that worked in the Lion Clan's Factories.

Efe' blinked again. The young janitor was also a connoisseur of Rokugan's culture, and his brief thought of the Lion Clan jarred him to a sudden realization.

"Lord M-M-Matsu!" the janitor stuttered in surprise. He dropped into a deep bow.

"Get up," Gohei snarled, sounding slightly irritated by the attention.

"I am at your command, my lord!" Efe' said, rising swiftly. This was one of the greatest days of his life. He had seen most of the Champions, but from afar. He had never spoken to one. A lowly janitor played no part in the ceremonies of the Imperial Tombs.

"Do you know the Tombs?" Gohei demanded.

"Yes sir!" Efe' answered eagerly. "How may I help you, Lord Matsu? I can help you find any distinguished Lion ancestor to whom you might wish to honor!"

"No Lions today," Gohei replied.


Daniri flipped, adjusted his stance, and went into a backward roll, crashing unceremoniously into the wall. He stood up, rubbing his head and cursing the tiny apartments Toturi's Army was forced to live in.

"You all right?" Kochiyo asked from the door with a light laugh.

Daniri looked up at her with a frown. "Practicing," he said. "I'd practice on the roof, but I can't be seen in public, thanks to you. I may not have a show anymore but that's no reason not to stay in shape. Again, thanks. Being a movie star was a big pain in the ass." He moved into another kata. "By the way, I hope you smell the sarcasm here."

"That's not fair, Daniri," she said entering the room with a pained look. "I'm a different person now."

Daniri glanced at her, and for a moment he had trouble pulling his eyes away. She was dressed in a red sleeveless sweater and a long black skirt. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail, but she was still beautiful. His heart ached. He wanted to take her into his arms, but he was afraid he might snap her neck. "Different?" he said. "How so? Some monster tries to kill you and I'm supposed to forgive you? That's not a change of heart, Kochiyo, that's a rude awakening."

"You saved me," she said. "Doesn't that prove that there's something between us?"

"That just proves I'm not as heartless as you," he went into another kata, flexing both arm and folding his fingers into complex patterns. "I save a lot of people."

Kochiyo took another step into the room, Daniri glanced up and saw her eyes were filled with tears. "Daniri, when you came to my apartment that day, were you...?" she asked.

He stopped, turned to face her, waiting.

"Daniri, were you going to..."

"Propose?" he asked. "Yes. And why not? You're the only one who knew both sides of me and preferred the real one, or so I thought."

She looked at the ground, stifling a sob. "Daniri," she said, "I know it can't make things better, but I'm so sorry..." Her words disappeared into a mass of sobs and she leaned back against the wall, shoulders shaking.

Daniri could take it no longer. He could not love her, but could not let her suffer, either. He took a step forward and embraced her in both arms.

He never saw the dagger that flicked from her bracelet, poised just above his heart. She tried to drive the blade home, but her arm tensed, fighting her. A pained look crossed her face.

"It's all right," Daniri said. "It's all right..."

Kochiyo nodded, and concealed the knife once more. "I should go," she said.

Daniri nodded, and patted her on one shoulder. She turned and left the room.

Another time, the Dark Oracle told herself as she made her way down the stairs, another time...


"We do not belong here," Szash growled, crimson eyes gleaming in the dim light of the library. The enormous naga looked distinctly out of place amid the towering shelves. His discomfort was obvious as he fretfully glanced over one shoulder and then another, as if expecting an attack at any time.

"Calm down, Szash," Kenyu said, rounding the corner of the shelves with an open book in his hands. A large paper sack with grease stains on the bottom was tucked under one arm.

"Where have you been, Unicorn?" Szash demanded with a hiss.

"I went out to get some food, but they wouldn't let me back into the library," the Unicorn chuckled. "The librarian didn't recognize me as being part of 'your party.' I had to sneak in through a back window."

"The humans hold the keeper of their lands in high esteem, it seems," Szash said.

"Eh, I get that a lot," Kenyu said, sitting at the table and tossing a foil-wrapped hamburger to Szash. "I guess I just have the sort of face that people forget."

Szash shrugged noncommittally, quickly devouring the burger without removing its wrapper. Kenyu just stared for several seconds, a handful of potato wedges frozen half way to his lips. "You were supposed to unwrap that," he said.

Szash looked puzzled. "So I can carry waste in my hands? I think not, Unicorn. My stomach has no problems removing bones from the food I eat, I think flattened metal should be a minor obstacle."

"To each his own," Kenyu shrugged as he flipped open a book left on the table. "So what's up? Did Zin find anything?"

"No," the naga snarled, slapping one hand against a nearby shelf, rising a cloud of dust. "This library is the latest in a series of wastes of time. We consume valuable hours reading while the Phoenix dawdles with her sniveling kinsmen. Only a fool squanders time in the midst of war. Do you think that the Kashrak wastes his time so?"

"I wouldn't know," Kenyu said, chewing as he turned a page. "I've never met him. From what I've heard, he's pretty dangerous. Zin thought Sumi had a good idea when she suggested coming here to drum up some more firepower."

"We have the Blades of the Bright and Pale! What more 'firepower' do we need?" Szash hissed. "The Kashrak is linked to the Akasha! He knows that we come for him! My lady's choice to ally with this pacifist Phoenix was a mistake!"

"We wouldn't have defeated Asako Nitobe without Sumi," Kenyu answered, closing his book. "Do you think that was a mistake, too?"

Szash's eyes narrowed. "I think that you are a mistake, Unicorn," Szash spat back. "My lady needs no protectors except He Who Abides. If you had not been stumbling through the Shinomen, I would have killed Nitobe before Zin emerged from the pool."

"If you say so," Kenyu said, his face growing hot. "But then where in Jigoku were you when Nitobe and his pennaggolans came after us in Soshi Toshi? Sleeping tight with the Akasha, huh? Good job of protecting your lady, buddy."

"I do not sleep," Szash replied, a mark of bitterness in his voice. He paused, glancing away. "You served my lady well in her journey to the Shinomen, and I thank you. Your services are no longer needed. We can return to Otosan Uchi without help."

"I see," Kenyu answered, unwrapping his sandwich. "So what do you plan to do, say, if you need to buy more food?" He held up the hamburger. "Slap some pearls down on the counter? 'Oh, pardon my scales and tail. It's just a skin condition.'"

"If I need sustenance, I will hunt for it," Szash growled. "Do not mock me, human."

"I mock everyone; it's a sign of low self esteem," Kenyu answered. "You need me. This is a human world, Szash. The naga have been asleep for too long. No one's ready for you."

Szash was quiet for several moments, brooding over the Unicorn's words. He shook his head slowly, white fangs grinding as he turned to view Kenyu again. "You do not understand us," he said.

"So?" Kenyu shot back. "Do I need to understand you to help you?"

Szash slithered forward several feet. He leaned upon the heavy wooden table with both fists, eliciting a groan from the polished wood. "I have seen the way you regard my lady. You are selfish, driven only by your desires. You know nothing of true courage, only random acts of stupidity. One day, Unicorn, your luck will run dry and you will be exposed for the weakling you are."

"Shinjo's Breath, you sound like my mother," Kenyu grumbled. "So what's pure about your mission, Szash? Why are you following Zin?"

The big Constrictor sat back and looked away. In the distance they could both hear Zin singing quietly, echoing through the library as she searched the ancient Asako scrolls.

"My life is hers," Szash said.

"You're in love?" Kenyu asked, a hint of trepidation in his voice.

"Nothing so base as that," Szash hissed. "I love nothing. My life is hers. That is all."

Kenyu nodded. "Okay," he said, taking a large bite of his sandwich. "That was evasive."

"You do not understand," Szash said. "You will never understand, and those who do not understand the events that have led to our current state cannot be trusted to follow us to the journey's end."

"Then make me 'understand,' Szash," Kenyu said, making little quotation marks with his fingers as he said "understand." He rose from his table, "Because I'm not leaving Zin. Nitobe didn't chase me away. Kashrak won't chase me away. You're not going to chase me away."

A rattling hiss sounded in Szash's throat, and he settled unevenly upon his coiled tail. "I can almost believe that you are sincere, Unicorn."

"I challenged a Dark Oracle for her! Did I sound sincere then?" Kenyu snapped, angrily balling up his sandwich wrapper and throwing it at Szash. The naga looked mildly surprised as it bounced off the edge of his nose. "I was ready to die! Where I come from, that's a subtle but reliable signal that you can trust me."

Szash blinked. "Calm yourself, Unicorn. I rescind my comments if any offense was given. I will tell you how I came to be my lady's protector. Perhaps then you shall see the wisdom of leaving us to complete our duty."

Kenyu nodded, spinning the nearest chair around and sitting with his arms folded over the back. "I'll listen," he said. "But wisdom? Sorry. That's just not in my character."

Szash took a deep breath, massive chest heaving as he collected his thoughts. "I was born a rarity among the naga. Reincarnated of a soul too great to be contained by a single body, hatched from the same egg as my brother."

"Twins?" Kenyu said.

Szash nodded. "Born of both Constrictor and Cobra blood, we were an unthinkable mix of bloodlines. The Shashakar was my father, a powerful Cobra jakla - what would be called a shugenja among your people. My mother was the Qamar, leader of our people, a wise and compassionate woman of the Constrictor bloodline. The jakla were outraged at such a contamination of their line. My mother protected us despite our mutation, for Constrictor eggs are rare. We were hated for what we were. Twisted. Different. Unlike other naga."

"Abominations," Kenyu said. "I've heard of them. Zin thought she was an Abomination."

"My lady is no Abomination," Szash said, a fond note in his voice. "She is the Zin. She is the Cure. She is-" "I know, I've heard all that already," Kenyu said waving one hand. "And you're definitely not in love. Get on with your story."

Szash shot Kenyu a resentful look, but continued. "My brother and I grew under the watchful eye of the jakla and vedics - holy men and scholars of the Akasha. Our soul had not been reborn in many lifetimes, and great things were expected. My brother's skill with magic grew from an early age, and though I had no magic I drew great respect for my strength and skill with the blade. We were both outcasts, so we relied upon one another. Together, we grew strong. No one would help us, so we learned to thrive on our own. We were very close. At times, we could sense one another's thoughts through the close bond our soul shared."

"That must have been nice, having a brother," Kenyu said. "I was an only child myself."

"What would you know of it, then?" Szash snapped. "What would you know of anything? I commend your mother for having the wisdom to cease breeding."

"Hey, sorry," Kenyu replied. "No reason to get personal-"

"Be silent, Unicorn," Szash snarled. "You asked for my tale and I will tell it but I could care less about your bloodline."

"Well excuse me for living," Kenyu sneered.

"Perhaps," Szash answered. "To continue: those Abominations who bear hope of salvation are given a test, a quest by which they may prove themselves to the Akasha. I was to be given such a quest, but I discovered that my brother would be denied. My father feared his power, and my mother believed that his ambition would bring great risk."

"Your brother was Kashrak, wasn't he, Szash?" Kenyu asked.

"Not yet," Szash said sadly. "At that time we were both merely Ashamana. We had no names. Kashrak is the title he gave himself after his dark heritage was fully revealed."

"Dark heritage?"

Szash nodded. "Our soul was once called the Shahismael. You would not know the name, but the very speaking of it strikes fear into the hearts of my people. Shahismael was a powerful warlord who consumed the Akasha with his evil, much like your Fu Leng. After three millennia of containment within the Akasha, the Dashmar - our greatest diplomat and mediator - believed him to be rehabilitated. Shahismael was allowed to re-enter the Akasha to be reincarnated. The vedics believe that my brother inherited the dark half of our soul, and I inherited the light. They hoped to dispose of that darkness by killing my brother, sending his twisted soul back into the Akasha in hopes it would be cleansed. At the time, I knew none of this. I knew only that they wished to kill my brother."

"And you wouldn't allow it," Kenyu said.

"Of course not," Szash said. "The Shashakar believed Kashrak's survival would bring nothing but harm, but when I looked into Kashrak's eyes I saw the brother I huddled beside to escape the cold, the friend I played with when other children shied from my deformity. I could not let him die. I begged the Dashmar and my mother to deny my father the blood of Kashrak. I asked that he be allowed his own test, that he be given equal chance to prove himself. The Dashmar consulted with the Qamar and Shashakar, and they agreed." Szash's voice trailed off at the last, a regretful tone in his words.

"The test was not what you thought it would be?" Kenyu asked.

"My father would not be denied his bloodlust," Szash said ruefully. "I was given my quest in secret, to retrieve a sacred pearl from the bottom of Earthquake Fish Bay. Little did I know that my brother was given the same quest. They did not intend for us both to succeed, and they thought I would be stronger."

"Did you find the pearl?" Kenyu asked.

Szash's gaze became distant, and his reptilian mouth curved in a grin. "No," he said. "They had underestimated Kashrak. He used his magic to find and retrieve the pearl before the Bright Eye had set. By pure chance, I encountered him on the way to the bay. He was returning, the pearl safely in his possession. We had no secrets, not then. When I discovered the trap laid for us I was angered, as was Kashrak. We returned to the Tears of the Ancients to confront our parents, the highest born of the naga race."

"And what did you say?" Kenyu asked.

"I?" Szash sighed. "I said nothing. Kashrak rendered me unconscious with his magic and returned wearing the illusion of my form. He slipped away after delivering the pearl and then cast aside the disguise, returning in failure to face the Akasha's judgment."

Kenyu frowned. "That doesn't sound like the same Kashrak Zin talks about."

"Our souls are not so evenly divided as the Dashmar thought," Szash said. "Kashrak was not wholly evil. I arrived just as the Cobra were preparing the ceremony to sever him from the Akasha. I quickly deduced what had happened, and I was horrified that Kashrak would make such a sacrifice for me."

"What did you do?" Kenyu asked.

Szash did not answer.

"Szash?" Kenyu asked. "What did you do?"

Szash looked at the Unicorn. "I did nothing," he said. "In the end, I was weaker than my brother, and did not have the courage to make the sacrifice he would have made for me. I was not the hero they believed me to be. I was afraid. I did nothing, except beg for his life. It was all I could find the courage to do, in the face of my elders."

"Well, that was brave, wasn't it?" Kenyu answered.

"Again, you do not understand," Szash said. "To be severed from the Akasha is a fate worse than death. It means to be cast out of the soul of our people. To never be born again. To be cast into eternal death, a life worse than ten thousand deaths. In pleading for my brother's life, I had condemned him utterly."

"Oh," Kenyu said, shocked.

"But they could not overcome him," Szash shook his head. "Even all of them together, they could not overcome him. Four of the Shashakar's apprentices were severed during the ceremony, and five more slain by the psychic backlash unleashed when the ceremony went awry. My brother's scream... a scream of agony, fear, loneliness, pain, betrayal, and... and more that I cannot name. It is a sound that will echo in my heart forever."

Kenyu was quiet as he soaked in the enormity of the Constrictor's tale. A hiss rolled in Szash's throat, and he showed his teeth in a fearsome grin. "Now that you know the cowardice of the naga who fights beside you, are you still prepared to accompany me, Unicorn?"

Kenyu shrugged. "Why not?" he said. "Everyone makes mistakes. You fought bravely enough in the Shinomen."

"I was not fighting my brother," Szash snarled. "Every night I wonder what might have happened if I had stood at his side. Would I have saved him? Would we both be dead? Would we have been severed and killed each other to end our misery? Or would I stand with him now in Otosan Uchi, plotting the downfall of your human Empire? Every day we travel, I wonder what I will do when I find him once more. Will I have the strength to stand against him? Or will I beg for forgiveness? We shall see, Unicorn, we shall see."

"Szash, Kenyu?" Zin asked, suddenly peering around the edge of the bookcase. She was dressed in plain robes of deep brown with a large leather pouch strapped over her shoulder. She leaned against a shelf to steady herself. Dark circles lined her deep green eyes; her exhaustion was obvious. She looked as if a stiff wind would blow her slim figure away.

"Zin?" Kenyu said, turning to her with a reassuring smile. Szash immediately straightened where he sat, every muscle tensing with readiness to serve his lady.

"Good... you're both here," she said, her voice ragged and weary.

"Where would we be?" Kenyu chuckled, taking Zin's hand in his own and helping her to the table. He pushed the paper bag toward her. "I got some food. Eat something."

"I can't," Zin said, shaking her head as she settled into a chair. She placed her leather pouch on the floor with a heavy thump.

"You're about to fall over," Kenyu said. "Eat a hamburger before I have Szash force feed you." Szash regarded the Unicorn curiously, then nodded at Zin.

"Oh, fine," Zin laughed, unwrapping one of the sandwiches and taking a bite. She sat quietly for a moment, chewing. "Wow. I had no idea how hungry I was. I've been reading all day."

"Yeah, we noticed," Kenyu laughed. "Did you find anything yet?"

"Not yet," Zin said. "The records of the Shadow Wars are difficult. Sometimes there's nothing at all. Sometimes what they have is so wrong it doesn't even match the patchwork memories I have left. It's been really discouraging. If the Asako have no records of who I was, who would?"

Kenyu shrugged and sat beside her. "Don't give up. You were a Hiruma, right? Maybe the Crab have something."

Zin shook her head. "The Asako share genealogical files with the Crab. If the Phoenix do not know my identity, then the Crab will not know either. I may have descendants, Kenyu. I might have grandchildren. I'll never know." She took another bite from her sandwich, staring into the grain of the table in deep sadness.

Szash folded his arms, a deep growl resonating in his throat. "My lady," he said. "If I speak inappropriately, I beg your forgiveness, but what worth can there be in this quest? Those that knew you before you entered the Akasha are long dead."

Zin looked up at Szash, her green eyes searching. "I want to know who I was," she said. "I want to know the life that Kashrak stole from me. Is that wrong?"

"What you Rokugani call your spirit world?" Szash replied. "Yomi?"

"Yoma, actually," Kenyu corrected.

"The souls of your former friends and families wait for you in Yoma," Szash said. "They watch you from afar, at the side of your ancestors. They give you strength. Perhaps a few of them have been reborn as new allies. Look for them all you wish, but they are already with you. Do not regret what has been lost, my lady. Value what you have left."

"Strange advice coming from someone as dour as yourself," Zin said, though her smile robbed the words of their edge. "You should take your own advice, Szash."

"I do," Szash said. A pained look crossed his face. "I have nothing left but my duty to you, my lady. That is my life."

Zin frowned in sympathy. Kenyu rose a dubious eyebrow. "So where's Sumi?" the Unicorn asked. "Shouldn't she be back by now?"

"That was worrying me, too," Zin answered. "Shiba Gensu and his followers resent her. That much is clear."

"For such a peaceful clan, the Phoenix seem skilled in duplicity and hatred," Szash growled.

"All the clans are skilled at duplicity and hatred," Kenyu said wryly. "The Scorpions are just the only ones smart enough to make money off of it."

Szash's eyes suddenly burned a brighter red, and his head cocked slightly in attention. His body went rigid, and one hand strayed for his sword.

Across the library, footsteps scuffed on the dry, dusty floor.

"Librarians," Kenyu said. "They said they'd come up to check on us when they finally let me in."

"These librarians are stricter than most," Szash replied, forked tongue flickering between scaled lips. "I taste gun oil and steel. These men carry weapons, and stink with the sweat of fear."

Zin rose from her chair unsteadily, one hand snatching up the leather pouch. "Would they seek to do us harm?"

"Do humans need a reason for anything?" Szash replied, gazing off in the direction of the footsteps. "Six Phoenix," he said, "and one Crane."

"You can tell that from here?" Kenyu whispered. "Can you see through the bookshelves?"

"I do not need to," Szash said. His curved blade slid from its scabbard without a sound, held ready in both hands. "Get behind me, my lady. Kenyu, if you have any useful magic, use it now."

"Behind you?" Zin said, drawing one of the long Akasha blades from the pouch. "I can't fight for myself?"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Kenyu said, flailing his hands at both naga. "We can't start killing Phoenix in the middle of an Asako library!"

"We are not starting this fight, Unicorn," Szash said. "You promised to defend my lady. I hold you to your oath."

The footsteps drew closer, then paused. A mumble of voices could barely be heard.

"What are they saying, Szash?" Kenyu whispered. "Are they talking to the librarians?"

Szash turned, eyes narrowed. "They are speaking?"

"Didn't you hear them?" Kenyu returned.

"Szash cannot hear them," Zin said.

Kenyu blinked. "What?!?"

"I am more a snake than most nagas, and like many snakes I am deaf," Szash said, leveling his massive reptilian head at Kenyu. "Your voice is apparent through the vibrations in the air and the movement of your lips. All else I perceive through scent and taste. I cannot hear their voices."

"Well, let us assume the worst," Zin said. "We have to leave. Kenyu is right; we can't start a fight here. It will only draw more of Gensu's men.

"Unicorn?" Szash demanded. "Where is the window you used to gain entrance earlier?"

"That way," Kenyu answered, pointing in the direction of the footsteps. "We're cut off."

"Then let them come," Szash snarled, upper lip quivering. "In the cramped environment of the shelves, they must face me one at a time. If they would align themselves against us, they must pay the price in blood."

"No," Kenyu said suddenly. "I'll handle this." He took a step forward.

Zin seized him by the wrist, her tired face torn with worry. "What will you do, Kenyu?" she asked.

"Don't worry," he said with his most charming grin. "I have a plan." He kissed her on the cheek and strode off toward the voices.

"He will kill himself," Szash growled.

"Are you going to call him a fool again?" Zin asked, glancing up at her protector with a grin.

"No," the naga admitted. "For a human, I am beginning to like him."


Chobu sat back against the sewer wall and tried to ignore the smell. Downtown was a creepy place, no doubt about it, but you sort of got used to it after a while. The goblins didn't bother you once you showed how tough you were by killing a handful. The kumo didn't care about anything that was smart enough to stay out of their webs. There were other things that lived here, but they stayed in the dark places. Chobu stayed away from those areas, only venturing into the subterranean tunnels in areas that Kashrak told him were safe. Even then, he was on his guard. He didn't trust the big snake for a second.

"Master?" bubbled a small voice to Chobu's side. "Master, is there anything I can do for you?"

Chobu looked up curiously. There was nothing there, only a ripple in the air, but Chobu knew how to see it for what it was. It was a Kukanchi, a minor Void kansen. If properly tended and encouraged, it would one day become an oni. Chobu had summoned it days ago using his stolen scroll, and it had followed him around like a lost puppy ever since. The kansen was obedient to the point of sycophancy, begging to be ordered about and seeing to Chobu's commands with immediacy.

Chobu didn't trust that little monster, either.

It was no coincidence, he knew, that Kashrak and the goblins had stopped keeping a close eye on him after he summoned the Kukanchi. It was no coincidence, he knew, that the Kukanchi became excited every time Chobu asked it to do something. He knew the little thing was trying to get some sort of hold over him. He knew the thing was trying to control him.

Chobu spent most of his free time trying to figure out how to kill it.

"Master?" the spirit begged again. "Master, command me!"

Chobu merely sat where he was, chewing on a candy bar, and said nothing. He knew that any command, even one as simple as "go away" would satisfy the kansen, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He merely separated himself from the oni's jabbering and continued studying the summoning scroll.

The writing was strange, like Rokugani kanji but somehow alien. The first thing Chobu had done was read the beginning of the scroll, the part that Kashrak had claimed was a trap. Sure enough, the incantation held a hidden intonation, a minor summoning that would cause a Moetechi, a fire kansen, to immediately fester in its reader's heart. Chobu wondered why Kashrak had warned him of it, and of other wards that he would find on maho scrolls. Surely the naga wasn't serious about taking him on as a student?

"Are you having trouble reading, master?" the Kukanchi whined. "Do you need my help in translation?"

"No," Chobu snapped.

The kansen made no reply, but flitted to Chobu's other side.

Chobu read further into the scroll. The summoning was a powerful one; he had only performed a much diluted version. The spell called for the use of a name, either the caster's or another that was freely given. Once summoned, the oni would take presence on the material world, bearing physical form and magical power in proportion to the power of its summoner's name.

"Oni no Chobu," he laughed to himself. "That one should be a prize."

As if he would ever do that. Chobu might be willing to dance with the devil, but he sure wasn't about to take her home. He wondered whose name he might be able to rustle up when he finally summoned the oni. Who did he know? Who deserved to have their name taken by an oni? Tetsugi sprang to mind. That would serve the manipulative bastard right, but there was no way Tetsugi would agree. Probably wasn't even his real name, anyway. Maybe he would just find some hobos in the street and offer them a bottle of hooch for their names. Might not get the best onis in the world, but he would make up for that in quantity.

"Master?" Kukanchi asked. "I will do anything you ask."

Chobu scowled at the kansen and studied the scroll some more. There was something about it. Something strangely familiar, something he had seen, that irritated him. If the infernal kansen would shut up for two seconds he might be able to put it together, but-

"Master, command me!" Kukanchi said.

Chobu looked up with a scowl and pointed at the kansen. "Die."

The air rippled uncertainly. "Master?"

"You disobey your master?" Chobu snapped. "Die! Now!"

The kansen disappeared with a puff of smoke, returning to Jigoku.

"Clever, Badger," cackled a dry voice. "Not all students wrest themselves from the kansen's grip so easily."

"I just wanted it to shut up," Chobu said.

"Of course," the Kashrak answered, slithering out of the shadows to fill the end of the tunnel. "You are more than you appear, Badger. My eyes are upon you."

"That's saying something," Chobu replied, glancing up at the countless wavering cobra-head tentacles fixed on him. "Have you come for my next lesson?"

"Not exactly," the Kashrak replied. "I wish to discuss a matter of no small importance."

"Go on," Chobu said, rising from where he sat and regarding the naga warily.

Kashrak smirked a bit, as if amused by Chobu's attempt to prepare himself for attack. "You have learned something here today, Chobu. One of the most valuable lessons for those that begin the path you walk. We meddle with powerful forces, Badger, spirits immortal and powerful in the extreme. And yet, there is one weakness that links all of these creatures together. One single silken thread which makes even Akuma himself no more than a puppet. What is this?"

"Fear," Chobu replied. "Immortal spirits fear death."

"Yesssss," Kashrak hissed gleefully. "Yesssssssssssss. Discover how to slay a creature of the Shadowlands," he snapped one clawed hand into a great fist, "and he is yours to control. The mightiest oni, the lowliest kansen, all are cowards before the reaper's blade. Learn to kill the immortal, and no man, no beast, no oni, will ever call you master. You will gain the power to serve or control as you will. The world will become yours, as it is mine."

"But you serve the Shadowlands," Chobu replied with a smirk.

Kashrak shook his head, ignoring the jibe. "Though it serves my purposes to follow the path of Jigoku, I am not bound to it," he replied. "I did not serve Akuma, I summoned him. I do not fawn upon the Stormbreaker as others do, I am his creator. What worth is there to be a conqueror when one can profit more greatly by generating conquerors? When the heroes rise, it is always the conqueror's head who falls. The Shadow Wars were my child. Yoritomo IV died at the hands of one of my oni spawn. Downtown, the paradise you see around you, is the result of my influence. I am an architect of the Third Day of Thunder. What villain, what monster, what force of evil has ever worked such wonders and lived to tell the tale? Tell me that, Badger."

"None," Chobu said. "You created the Stormbreaker? The guy the Locust was talking about?"

"I created Inago, as well," the naga chuckled. "I will survive them both, for none save yourself and my allies know of my involvement."

"And you're going to kill me?" Chobu asked without fear. "Very likely," Kashrak answered. "But not today. Even if I choose not to, who will believe an Imperial Assassin? Time and the Akasha have taught me an invaluable lesson, Badger. Patience. I always live to wield my power another day. Do you understand of what I speak?" The naga hunched low, his cobra tentacles slashing back and forth in a fury of excitement.

"Yeah," Chobu said. "You're no one to screw around with."

Kashrak straightened, a surprised look crossing his reptilian features. "Not my precise point, but I appreciate the sycophantic gesture, Badger."

"No problem," Chobu said.

"My point is this," Kashrak went on. "That those who wait, plan, and listen are more dangerous than those who charge forward with daisho akimbo. That goes for my enemies as well as myself. This is the reason that you yet live, Badger."

Chobu nodded. "You want to know about the Oracles."

"Exactly," Kashrak said, pointing at Chobu with a single finger. "The Oracles of Light are my greatest foes. The best laid plans, the most cunning schemes, can be laid to waste by a single well posed question answered by those immortal buffoons. I have escaped them in the past only narrowly. As the last Day of Thunder approaches, I fear their meddling may turn things upon their ear. If they have helped you no doubt they are helping others more dangerous to my plans. So tell me, Badger, how do you kill an Oracle?"

"Why should I tell you?" Chobu asked. "You might kill me if I do."

"Why should I do that?" Kashrak asked with a brittle laugh, settling back upon his coiled tails. "I have no quarrel with you. I have started you upon a path of darkness. If left undisturbed, you will inevitably become an ally. Perhaps one day you shall be a conqueror yourself; you have the fire." The naga's eyes gleamed red suddenly and it lunged forward, stopping inches from Chobu with eyes fixed upon his. "Have no illusions, human, if you do not share your information I will kill you."

"I believe you," Chobu said, not flinching. "If you want to kill an Oracle, then it's simple. They can't interfere."

"What?" Kashrak asked, rearing back in confusion. "You lie. They interfere with startling regularity. Why, during the Shadow Wars they personally slew my finest oni--"

"And that's why they died," Chobu interrupted, snapping his fingers at the naga. "They're not allowed to interfere directly. They can only answer questions, and defend themselves. That's what Naydiram told me."

Kashrak suddenly smiled. "Ah," he said, nodding. "Thank you, Badger. In hindsight, I feel somewhat silly for not deducing that myself. The Oracle of Earth's name is Naydiram, you said?"

"That's right," Chobu answered. "He's a Senpet taxi driver."

"My thanks," Kashrak replied. The enormous naga turned about on its coils and slithered for the tunnel once more, cobra-tentacles keeping a close eye on Chobu as it left.

"So do I get to live?" Chobu asked.

"My word is my bond," Kashrak said over his shoulder. "I won't kill you. However, I make no guarantees for the creatures that dwell above. If I were you, I'd remain here for a time. I have plans in a day or two and could use a tsukai like yourself to help execute them." Kashrak exited the dank sewer tunnel.

"Great," Chobu grumbled to himself. "Guess I'll just wait here, then."


Hisojo rubbed his eyes with two fingers, sighing deeply, then returned to his journal, making the calculations for the journey back to Togashi Mountain. After the trip, he was unsure what to do. The Dragon's secret had never been so greatly compromised, and he had himself to blame.

"Hisojo, I am here," Kitsuki Hatsu said.

The old man whirled about in his seat. His eyes widened in astonishment when he saw the man standing in the door. "Hatsu!" Hisojo exclaimed. "Sachiko! I see you have found Akkan." He nodded at the small dog Hatsu held in his hands.

"I thank you for taking care of her," Hatsu said, nodding as he set the dog down. "As much as I appreciate it, I didn't come here for my dog." It scurried off to snuffle Chojin's leg as he watched television. The weaponsmith absently handed the dog a potato chip.

"You deserve an explanation," Hisojo replied.

Hatsu nodded. He stepped forward and a slim woman in dark purple stepped in behind him. Orin Wake entered as well, glancing from Hisojo to the others warily. Meliko and Ishio stood just a step behind.

"Where should I begin?" Hisojo asked, folding his arms into his sleeves and seating himself in his chair.

"First," Hatsu said, circling to sit at the edge of the old shugenja's desk. "I want to know who you really are. Are you the old man who was like a grandfather to me, or are you some scheming Dragon who did what he did only to make certain that the Thunder would survive until he was needed?"

"Both," Hisojo replied.

"That's no answer," Hatsu said.

"We are the Dragon," Hisojo said. "Answers never come easily."

"Don't hide behind that," Hatsu said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You couldn't know," Hisojo answered, shaking his head. "You weren't ready-"

"Damnit, Hisojo I was a police detective with commendations! I averted the Emperor's assassination! Did I have to die before I was good enough to be admitted into your little club?"

"Apparently," Chojin remarked from where he sat in the corner of the room, watching professional wrestling. Akkan hopped into his lap.

"Chojin," Hisojo snapped. "You're not helping." He turned to Hatsu again. "You think you were ready to take up the Dragon's cause?" Hisojo asked, a sudden intense look in his eye. "Your mother thought very much the same thing."

"My mother?" Hatsu asked. "Hoshi said she was a Hitomi, killed by the Stormbreaker's assassins."

"Indeed she was," Hisojo replied. "Only two days after Lord Hoshi revealed the entire truth."

"Truth?"

"Lord Hoshi can see the future, much like the kami Togashi with whose genes he was enhanced," Hisojo said. "For reasons of his own, Lord Hoshi told your mother what your destiny would be."

"That I would become the Dragon Thunder?" Hatsu asked, eyes narrowing.

"That, and more," Hisojo said. "How much more, I do not know, for Ishinomori kept her secrets close."

"Wonder where she learned that," Hatsu remarked.

Hisojo nodded. "Shortly thereafter, she set out to find and assassinate Yogo Ishak, the Dark Oracle of the Void. Ishak destroyed her utterly. Your father, Kitsuki Yamada, died shortly thereafter. He could not live without your mother; she was his entire life. I felt his loss as deeply as you, Hatsu. Yamada was like a son to me. His final wish was for me to care for you in his wake."

"And to hide me from the truth?" Hatsu demanded.

"Yes," Hisojo said, meeting Hatsu's gaze with angry, suddenly tearful eyes. "Yamada wished a better life for you. He wished a life without pain, without duplicity, without loss, for he knew how much you would lose when the time came for you to fulfill your destiny. He wished to protect you from the deadly life of the Hidden Dragon for as long as possible, to give you a chance to live as a normal person."

Hatsu looked away.

"Your normal life is over now, Hatsu, and I am sorry." Hisojo bowed his head, his shoulders slumping. For a rare moment, Hisojo seemed an ancient, weak old man. "I only wished you the best. I spent fifteen years to give you the best life I could. I am sorry."

"I'm sorry, as well," Hatsu replied, nodding. "Things will never be as they were."

"I fear that they will not," Hisojo said. "Treasure your memories, my son. You will need them."

Hatsu shook his head slightly, torn with doubt. "Where is Lord Hoshi?" he asked. "I think I need to speak to him again."

"I am sorry, Hatsu," Hisojo replied. "Lord Hoshi is dead. He, too, was killed by Yogo Ishak, when our Factory underneath the Diamond Palace was destroyed."

Hatsu stood up slowly. "So we are on our own."

"We always were, I fear," Hisojo said cryptically.

"Pardon my temerity," Orin said, "but I haven't been properly introduced. This is Kitsuki Hatsu? The one you told me about?"

"Of course, how foolish of me," Hisojo said, rising from his seat. "This is Orin Wake, ally of the Hidden Dragon, Daidoji Ishio, and Togashi Meliko. Orin, this is Otaku Sachiko and Kitsuki Hatsu, the Thunders of the Unicorn and Dragon, respectively." Hatsu turned to Sachiko. "You're a Thunder?"

Sachiko shrugged. "I thought you knew."

"How would I know that?" he shot back.

"You're a... Dragon and stuff," she gestured vaguely. "I thought you'd know that kind of thing!" "Does Yasu know?" Hatsu asked.

"Why would Yasu know?" Sachiko retorted.

"He's a Thunder too!" Hatsu exclaimed.

"Yasu?" Sachiko replied. "Hida Yasu? You have to be kidding."

"That's what Munashi told us," Hatsu said.

"I think I'd check my sources on that one," Sachiko replied.

"What are you grinning about?" Meliko whispered to Orin.

"Finally," Orin said with a wry smile. "People are ignoring me."


The streets before the Diamond Palace were mobbed with people. Ryosei couldn't help but be reminded of the Locust riot, so thick was the crowd. This time, the mob had not come to pillage, but to listen. The Emperor would address the people in less than an hour. Ryosei stepped back behind the curtains of the balcony, biting her lower lip in trepidation.

"You're worried about him, aren't you?" asked a voice from the shadows of her chambers.

"Wouldn't you be?" she asked. She threw herself onto a wide couch at the side of the bed, hugging her arms to herself protectively.

"Of course I'm worried," the voice replied. "If I thought the Emperor was safe, I'd have approached him myself. But when I saw Munashi..."

Ryosei sat upright and looked into the shadows with a curious smile. "So you only came to me for protection because Munashi frightened you off? I'd hoped there was something more to it than that."

"Well," Isawa Saigo replied, stepping forward and returning her smile. "Maybe." He sat down on the couch beside her, a look of momentary pain dancing across his face.

Ryosei frowned. "How are your headaches, Saigo?"

"Better," the prophet replied. "Seeing you helps a lot."

"Melodramatic Phoenix," Ryosei laughed. "I can get you some medicine if--"

"No drugs," Saigo said vehemently. He leaned forward and rubbed his eyes vigorously with both hands.

"Oh," Ryosei said. "Sorry, that was stupid of me to forget."

"It's all right," Saigo said, looking up with another pained smile. "I'd rather that part of my life be forgotten. I don't want you to risk yourself getting anything for me. If they found out I was here, I'd be dead."

"You don't know that. The truth is, you don't know what they would do if they found you," she said.

"I know I'm not going anywhere near Asahina Munashi," Saigo replied. "I've heard stories about him. Some people I know were trapped in his garden and-"

"I know," Ryosei said. "You told me already, and I believe you. Reveal yourself publicly, Saigo. Some of the Imperial Guard listen to me, now. They'll protect you if I ask them to. I think you'll be much safer in plain sight than hiding in my chambers."

"Your brother wasn't safe, and he's the Emperor," Saigo answered. "No one is safe. In one of my prophecies, Shinsei warned me that the Seven Thunders would destroy the city! If we can't trust the Emperor and the Thunders, who does that leave us?"

Ryosei's brow furrowed in anger. "You don't know that Munashi's done anything to him, yet. Maybe I found Kameru in time."

Saigo shook his head. "Do you really think that, Ryosei? When's the last time you talked to your brother?"

Ryosei said nothing, but looked sad and distant. She buried her face in her hands and sobbed quietly. Saigo said nothing more, and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.


Kenyu took a deep breath and tried to walk as quietly as possible. He was afraid, but it was a distant fear. The fear wasn't really preventing him from doing anything. It felt as if it was just sort of lingering over his heart, watching, wondering what would happen next. Kenyu always felt like this whenever he was about to do something reckless. His mother always told him it was part of his grand Otaku heritage. His father always told him it was because he was too stupid to know when to quit.

They were probably both right.

He could hear the men now, talking quickly amongst themselves. He stopped for a moment, straining to hear. He wished he could call upon the air spirits to hear more clearly, but he didn't know any spells like that. Even if he did, his magic was unreliable. Only the Water kami really seemed to like him. The others were... unresponsive. He moved closer. He could hear them know. He realized with a start that they were in the large vestibule right on the other side of the bookshelf he now pressed against.

"...wants the naga alive, both of them," snapped an irritating voice. The lilting, cultured accent suggested a Crane.

"Well, you go in first, Doji," laughed a woman in return. "Did you see the size of that beast? Are you even sure the drugs you gave us will work on it?"

"Of course they will work," the Crane retorted. "The highest levels of Dojicorp guarantee their efficacy. Now stop stalling and do what you've been told. Or is this the lauded Phoenix loyalty?"

A resentful murmur rolled through the assembled Shiba. Kenyu knew his time was just about up. He had to do something now, or he'd miss his chance.

"Sprits of water, hear me," he whispered, summoning the power within him. As usual, the magic was slow in coming. "Oh, and bright Otaku, lend a hand. This isn't really for me, it's for Zin. I know I don't deserve your help, but doesn't she?"

Kenyu felt the spirits suddenly respond to his plea. He focused the power of the water, placing a single drop of pure elemental energy in the center of the bookcase before him. He could feel the drop begin to grow, to spread out to all the nooks and crannies of the ancient case. Kenyu smiled.

He stumbled out into the hallway, knocking over a cart full of books. Glancing out of one eye, he saw six bushi in orange armor and one man in a powder blue three-piece suit. The six Phoenix immediately drew large pistols tipped with strange-looking needles.

"Whoops," Kenyu said, sitting up and grinning sheepishly. "Sorry about that." He sat on the floor and began picking up the spilled books.

"Fortune's Turn!" the Crane hissed. "What is the meaning of this? You said there would be no witnesses."

"There shouldn't be," one of the Phoenix answered. "He isn't a librarian."

"Silly me," Kenyu said, looking up with a grin. "I came in here to do some research last night, you know, family trees. I fell asleep at the table and I guess the Asako didn't want to disturb me. Those guys are so nice. All of you Phoenix are so nice. This entire city is just so polite! I love it here. I'll have to tell all my friends back at home about Neo Shiba when I get home. My mom would love it here, though she'd probably want to bring her horse and all her sisters."

"You aren't going anywhere, Unicorn," one of the Phoenix said, aiming his gun at Kenyu.

"Excuse me?" Kenyu looked up innocently. "Could... you guys help me pick up these books?" He spread his arms out to his side, displaying the large purple circle he wore over his heart, the symbol of the Otaku line.

The Phoenix's hand twitched on the trigger as he realized the implication.

"Wait!" the Crane said, holding one hand to delay the Phoenix. "Unicorn, what is your name?"

"Kenyu," Kenyu said happily. "Iuchi Kenyu. I took my dad's name since mom's family is a little picky. Heh. Battle Maidens. What can you do?"

The Crane sighed and massaged his brow with the heel of his hand. "This is the last thing we need. Just help him and get him out of here."

The lead Phoenix glanced at the Crane once, then quickly moved forward to assist. He gestured curtly and the other Phoenix stepped forward, too.

"Oh, thanks, hey, thanks, yeah, thanks," Kenyu said, picking up one more book then quickly taking several steps back as the Phoenix cleaned up his mess. "You guys are the best, just like I said. So nice. I wish Otaku were polite as you Shiba." "Yeah, whatever," grumbled a Phoenix.

"Oh, hey, I'm serious!" Kenyu said, standing next to the scowling Crane. "I mean, if it wasn't for you guys being such a good influence on my manners, I'd have never told you to duck."

For a single, comical moment that Kenyu would treasure for the rest of his life, the six Phoenix all looked up at once. Then a fourteen foot high bookcase exploded from the overwhelming elemental energies and fell on top of them.

"Jigoku!" the Crane hissed, reaching into his jacket for something.

Kenyu punched him in the face. The Crane didn't get instantly knocked unconscious like all the Cranes in Akodo Daniri's movies, but it stunned him enough for Kenyu to snatch the gun out of his jacket and hit him across the jaw with the handle.

That knocked him out.


"Here you go," the janitor said cheerfully. "Is this what you're looking for?"

"It feels right," Jurin said, glancing around the darkened garden. "Thank you."

The janitor nodded quickly. He cast one final fascinated look at Argcklt, then ambled off toward one of the mausoleums

Gohei shook his head ruefully. "I can't believe they'd hire a gaijin to work in the Imperial Tombs," he grumbled. "What's this country coming to?"

"Ah," Jurin replied with a quiet smile. "I suppose you believe it would be a far better idea to declare war upon the entire world and wipe them out?"

Gohei gave her an arch look. "You would question the Emperor?"

"I believe it serves no purpose to follow the Son of Storms with your heart if you can't follow him with your brain as well," Jurin answered. "If he were to ask my advice, I would tell him as much, but I am only a lowly magistrate."

"This is not a time to discuss politics," Gohei replied, his jaw twitching. "Do what we have come to do so I can return to my duties."

"Of course," she said. Before them stood several small shrines, all ancient but lavishly decorated in the colors of every clan. Kitsu Jurin stepped into the darkening clearing, her face expressionless. Her hands were folded in the sleeves of her coat, her head slightly bowed as she calmly made her way forward.

Matsu Gohei took a single step in order to get a closer look, eliciting a growl from the zokujin. The Lion Champion turned, his golden eyes fierce. "Yes, zokujin?" he demanded.

"She does not need you," Argcklt said.

"Jurin-san asked for my help," Gohei retorted, looming over the hunched zokujin. "I will not be questioned by a copper goblin. I-"

"She does not need you now," Argcklt said, holding up a soothing hand. "You are a brave man, Gohei-sama, but your soul is untempered. You bring disharmony to the elements. If you approach her, the spirits will become distressed and all will be wasted." Argcklt's eyes shone bright gold in the darkness, and he tilted his head at the Lion Champion. There was no fear in the creature's eyes, but no disrespect.

"I suppose it cannot hurt to... wait," Gohei snarled, stepping back and folding his arms impatiently.

Argcklt grinned.

"What are you smiling about, zokujin?" Gohei demanded. "Do you find me amusing?"

"We are all amusing, in a fashion," Argcklt said. "No doubt you find my appearance amusing. I find your violent nature amusing, considering."

"Considering?" Gohei asked.

"Considering your soul," Argcklt said, pointing one finger at Gohei's heart. "I can see it. Pure, clear, and strong. You are a focused man, Gohei. Focused on one final goal."

"And what is that goal?" the Lion asked.

"Peace," Argcklt answered in his slow, even voice. "For yourself and for all of Rokugan. You are prepared to wage war for that goal, so that in the future others will not have to."

"'The art of war is the preservation of peace,'" Gohei replied. "I studied Akodo's Leadership. Your philosophy is quite charming, zokujin, but that's all it is. The Diamond Empire will never know peace."

"No," the zokujin said, hanging his head slightly. "I think it will not. But does that mean that you will stop fighting?"

"Of course," Gohei said. "I'll stop fighting when I am dead."

Argcklt shook his head slowly, his strange eyes shimmering. "No, my friend," he said. "I think even that would not stop you..."


"The Soul... the Soul..." the man whimpered, rocking back and forth in his cell as he hugged his thin legs to his body. "The Soul..."

"What happened to him?" asked a Shinjo guard, aiming a flashlight at the skinny bald man and staring in distaste.

"He's a Jackal, one of the bastards who summoned those ghuls during the Senpet Invasion," asked a second guard as he ambled through the morning ritual of checking the prisoners. "Shinjo Rakki brought him in the other night. Word is, he's getting promoted for it."

"Rakki," the first guard said, shaking his head. "That lucky twerp."

"You're telling me," the second answered as they moved on to the next cell. "Have you seen his partner?"

Massad peered up from between his knees, his eyes blood-red and crusted with pus. "The Slayer..." he gibbered, a long string of drool spilling from one slack lip. "The Soul..."

"How pathetic, to be dependent upon material things..."

A deathly chill washed through the cell, and the lights flickered uncertainly. Roiling black smoke erupted from beneath Massad's bed, covering the floor but stopping at the bars. A scowling demon mempo suddenly appeared amid the smoke, floating upward to reveal an iron kabuto helmet. Smoke poured from the bottom of the kabuto as it rose into the air, stopping at a height of six feet. The smoke twisted beneath the helm, resolving into flesh, armor, weapons. In moments, a samurai in blackened armor holding a long spear stood before the Jackal.

"Yotogi," Massad said, his maddened eyes clearing for a moment only to fill with fear. The Jackal scrambled backward across the cell, huddling against the toilet.

"Afraid, Omar?" Yotogi asked. "What have you to fear? You have fulfilled your bargain well. It is I who have been lax."

"L-l-lax?" Massad stuttered.

"In fulfilling the terms of our agreement," Yotogi answered, seating himself at the edge of Massad's small bed and leaning his spear against the wall. "I promised you immortality in return for destroying the Locust. Sadly, I was detained for several days while I worked out the complications involved in negating my death. My own fault for tarrying while your bombs brought the Machine down."

Massad's eyes widened. "You... died?"

"Quite spectacularly," Yotogi chuckled, the sound echoing strangely in his helmet. "Only four days ago, my body was crushed, mangled and burned beyond recognition. A short jaunt to the pit of Jigoku, and here I stand before you. If nothing else, this proves that I can give you everything I offered, does it not?"

Massad nodded fearfully.

"Omar, you look unwell," Yotogi said, tilting his head slightly as he regarded the Jackal. "A shame for me not to notice the health of a treasured friend. What has happened?"

"The Soul..." he mumbled. "The Soul... of the Slayer... The Unicorn destroyed..."

"Ah," Yotogi nodded. "My errant granddaughter destroyed your necromantic toy. A pity. Such an interesting artifact. Such a distinguished memento of the glory of your people. No matter. The power the Soul gave you is nothing compared to the strength of Jigoku. Are you ready, Massad? Are you ready to accept the power my masters offer and become, like me, immortal?"

Massad stared into the dark pits of Yotogi's mempo. There was not a single doubt in the Jackal's mind that the Moto was serious. There was not a single doubt in Massad's mind that once he started down this road, there was no way back. There was also no doubt in Massad's mind that the Moto could give him everything he offered. "Yes," Massad said. "I want to become immortal."

"Excellent," Yotogi said. He drew a short knife from his belt, testing the sharpness of its blade against his thumb. "The first step," the Moto said, handing the blade to the Jackal, "is to kill yourself."

Massad accepted the blade.


Jurin knelt amidst the small shrines, her fingers digging deep into the soft earth. She chanted, voicing the Shintao sutras with a low, resonating voice. She greeted each spirit of the shrines in turn, turning from one to the next.

"Hida Soga, Lady of Crystal," Jurin said, bowing to a shrine trimmed with blue metal and white crystal, the shrine of the Crab Champion. "She who took a mile of the Shadowlands for every drop of Crab blood spilt. I honor your strength." She sensed trouble in the spirit there, and anger. Soga was concerned for those who bore her name, and fearful. She was also seemed slightly angry to see Jurin, so Jurin did not press further. She merely paid her respects and moved on.

"Kitsune Kama, Jade Champion," Jurin said, bowing to a shrine of polished wood, twined with naturally growing vines. "Whose keen eye and ready magics preserved the life and honor of the Son of Storms. I honor your determination." The spirit here was not angry, but seemed anxious, wary. To Jurin's mind, Kama's spirit had the bearing of a warrior who knew his enemy was close but could not find him. She moved on.

"Nariaki, the First to Serve," Jurin said, bowing to a small shrine of gold and stone. "Who taught us true loyalty. I honor your courage." The spirit of the shrine flitted about curiously, eager to see this new visitor. After taking a close look at Jurin, it seemed disappointed, and was gone. Jurin moved on.

"Doji Chomei, Emerald Champion," Jurin said, bowing to a shrine decorated in platinum and sapphires, newer than the others. "Who kept the Emperor strong until the rise of the Son of Storms. I honor your-" Jurin paused, confused. There was nothing here. No spirit, nothing, not even the traces of an absent spirit. There was nothing here connected to the soul of Doji Chomei, as if it were not his grave at all. A mystery for another time. She moved on to the true object of her quest.

"Bayushi Yamato, Gunsmith," Jurin said, bowing to a very small shrine of twisted black metal, decorated only by a smiling mask of pale grey leather. "You cast aside your mask for the Emperor and united enemies as allies. I honor your cunning."

"You bowed lower than you did to the others," an ethereal voice chuckled from the shadows. "I assume you want something."

Jurin sat up. A dark presence faded into being just behind the shrine, congealing into the form of a young man in bright crimson robes. His features were chiseled and angular, his face handsome.

"Shiryo no Yamato-sama?" Jurin said, doubtful.

"It is I," the spirit replied, his voice melodious. The spirit spread his arms wide to display his presence and smirked slightly. "What is wrong? Should I not be handsome? Or should I be thus?" He shimmered again for a moment, then transformed into a withered old man, leaning heavily on a cane. One arm ended in a hooked tetsukami prosthetic. One leg was a metal stump. Half his face was torn away by a savage wound, and a large scar twisted his throat. Jurin gasped.

"This is Yamato as those who knew him remember him," he said in a tortured voice. He shimmered once more, returning to his whole, handsome, younger self. "This is Yamato as he remembers himself. Do you not present a face to others that you believe they will find appealing? I think that you do, sodan-senzo. I think that we all do. If all of us were honest, then we would not vilify heroes and worship traitors." Yamato's eyes narrowed and he turned his gaze toward the north. His form shimmered slightly, becoming transparent.

"You are correct," Jurin replied. The spirit became solid once more. His focus returned to the Lion. "I have come to ask a favor."

"A favor?" Yamato laughed. "I was right, then. Even when I am dead, you Lions only bother a Scorpion when you need something. Ask your favor, Kitsu, but know that I will ask one in return."

"Very well," Jurin said. "What do you know of Ikoma Genju, the herald of Yoritomo?"

Yamato frowned. "I know of no such man. Begone."

"Ikoma Genju," Jurin pressed. "The one who took Yoritomo Kenjin's journal so that a copy would always be safe?"

Yamato shook his head slightly. "It makes an fascinating story. A pity it is untrue."

"I heard otherwise," Jurin said. "I have sought your aid for I know that you were the Yoritomo family's spy-master. You would not have let someone as important as Genju escape your notice. I believe that you can help me."

"Then you have wasted your time," Yamato returned. "I am a simple ghost."

"I am a Kitsu sodan-senzo," Jurin said. "There are no simple ghosts. Your presence in this world would not be so strong if there were not a reason. I believe the journal of Yoritomo Kenjin is that reason."

"And what if it is?" Yamato asked mildly. "I did not trust my own children with the answer to your question. Why should I trust you?"

"You should not," Jurin said. "You do not know me. My clan has betrayed yours as often as your have betrayed mine. There is no reason for you to trust me, save that the Day of Thunder is approaching quickly and you must trust someone."

"A clever answer," Yamato said. "I'm used to the sort of Lions that know no better way to prove their honesty than slicing yourselves open. What a disappointment. So you expect me to cooperate because you are clever?"

"If you wish," Jurin said. "If not, I will wait until you change your mind."

"I can wait forever," Yamato said.

"If the Day of Thunder comes and the journal is not found," Jurin replied, "forever will not be such a long time."

"Indeed," Yamato said, folding his arms as he stepped back and faded from view. "Indeed."

Jurin remained kneeling.


The ratling squatted pitifully in liquid up to his ankles. Streams of green fluid erupted from the pipes all around him, dampening his fur, staining his overalls, and clouding up the rising water. He banged his wrench against the confines of the small access tunnel, but that didn't seem to help. He kept doing it anyway.

"Hey, hey, hey!" shouted a voice. "What's all that racket?"

"Leak-leak," the ratling said, turning around and smiling pitifully. "Called for help."

The Seeker lowered his weapon, and sighed. "Listen, Fuzake," he said. "The emergency line is for emergencies! That means Seeker emergencies. When you spring a leak, that's a Fuzake emergency. That's your job. You fix it, or call another nezumi who can. Now I'm going to be late reporting to Mokuna-sama and it's your fault."

"This not normal leak," the little brown ratling said, gazing up pitifully with strange blue eyes. "Come. Look. Bad-bad thing."

The Seeker rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said, stomping forward toward the ratling. "What is it. Show me bad-bad thing."

"Okay," the ratling said. He opened his mouth and a stream of clear, blue water launched into the Seeker's face. The man had no time to scream as the fluid clawed its way into his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose. He sank to his knees, struggling pitifully. He fired his pistol, once, striking the ratling in the chest, then collapsed in the tunnel, twitching. The stream stopped, and the ratling collapsed beside him.

"Yaro?" shouted a voice behind him, the Seeker's backup. Booted footsteps approached quickly. "Yaro? Are you all right?

"I slipped!" Yaro said, suddenly looking up as his partner approached. "Oh, Fortunes, I shot Fuzake Ikachup."

"Amaterasu!" the second Seeker cursed, staring at the dead nezumi. "What were you thinking? Mokuna will fry you for this!"

"I know, I know," Yaro said, staring at the corpse with guilt and fear. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... don't worry... don't worry, I'll fix it... I'll report to Mokuna at once."

"Damn right you will!" the other man said, turning and marching back up the tunnel. "I'm not taking the heat for this, and I know I'm not cleaning that up. Damn right you'll report this."

"Damn right I will," Hida Yaro said, his eyes flickering blue. "Damn right I will."


"Meliko," Orin said, turning to the little ise zumi. "Perhaps you and Ishio should give Hatsu and Sachiko a tour of our headquarters here."

"There's really not much to see," Meliko said. "Just some weapons and stuff."

"Meliko," Orin said more forcefully. "Show them around the building."

She shrugged. "Come on, Thunders, I'm supposed to distract you while Orin talks about grown-up stuff."

Hatsu gave Orin a piercing look, but followed Meliko as she led them toward tables lined with swords and other weapons. Orin merely nodded at the Kitsuki, then made his way to where Hisojo was still writing in his journal.

"Before you leave, Hisojo," Orin said, speaking in a low voice. "I have something I must tell you."

"Yes, Orin?" Hisojo replied, looking up. "Please, make it swift. I must prepare."

"I think you'll want to make time for this," Orin said, and proceeded to tell the old man of his encounter with the Dragon of the Void. Hisojo's face fell as Orin made his way through the tale, twisting into an uncertain frown.

"What does this mean?" Orin asked.

"Difficult to tell," Hisojo replied. "True dragons are even more capricious and enigmatic than we who borrow our name from them. Void, most of all, is reputed to be a trickster. However, he is also often noted to be a benevolent guardian of humanity. Considering some of the things I have learned about Lord Hoshi, perhaps he was not wholly wrong in lying to him, if he did indeed do so."

"Three lies?" Orin asked. "Who are the Seven Thunders, as we know them, Hisojo? If I am to lead the Dragon, I must know what you believe to be the truth."

"Understandable," Hisojo replied. "The time for secrets is past. Now is the time for trust. Hida Yasu, Daidoji Eien, Kitsuki Hatsu, Akodo Daniri, Sumi, Bayushi Dairyu, Otaku Sachiko, all of these are the Thunders as Hoshi knew them. Now, who knows what is truth and what is fiction?"

"It is a place to start," Orin said. "An old Dragon once told me once that humanity has always triumphed due to its unpredictability. Maybe the fact that we no longer know who is a Thunder and who is not is an advantage."

"An advantage?" Hisojo asked, smiling wryly.

"If we don't know," Orin said, "The Stormbreaker probably doesn't know either."

Hisojo nodded, acknowledging the point. "Perhaps, Orin," he said. "Let us hope that you are correct."


Doctor Kuni Zuiken shook his head in wonder. "It's extraordinary," he said. "Perhaps the most extraordinary thing I've ever seen." The tiny animal peered curiously into the pen light, keeping perfectly still as the doctor gently held it and examined its wing.

"Hello, birdie!" Aihime said, running up beside Zuiken and leaning on the table. "How is he doing today?"

"He's doing just fine, little one," the old doctor chuckled, handing her the pen light and stroking his graying goatee with one hand. "You've been doing very well taking care of him."

"He's such a pretty birdie," Aihime cooed, holding the pen light out toward the little crow. Zuiken let the bird go and it hopped perched eagerly on the light, feasting on the bird seed in Aihime's open palm.

"Don't feed him too much," Aihime's mother warned from the doorway. "He's only a juvenile. His eyes are bigger than his stomach."

"I don't think a little overfeeding is going to hurt that bird, Hinako," Zuiken said with a laugh as he rose from the table. "I'm not sure anything could hurt that rascal."

"What do you mean?" she replied.

Aihime suddenly squealed in glee as the little crow burst from her hands in an explosion of feathers. It clumsily wove through the air to crash on Hinako's shoulder. The bird clutched her sweater desperately, its eyes wide and chest pumping as it took in its new surroundings. It seemed more surprised than anyone else that it had flown.

"That's what I mean," the doctor said. "Little more than a week after breaking its wing and it's in the air, flying! It's extraordinary! Even a healthy bird should not be capable of such a thing at its age. I shall have to send a note on this to the university."

"What do you think may have caused this?" Hinako asked, offering her finger for the startled bird to perch upon. It clambered on gratefully, peeking up and pecking at her chin.

"Obviously it must be magic of some sort," Zuiken replied, running one hand through his silver hair. "The crow is a symbol of Shinsei, long favored by the Fortunes. To find one so strong, that recovers so quickly and is fond of humans? This is obviously a good omen of the highest caliber. This could be a sign of great fortune, Hinako! This bird is lucky! I know that my colleagues in Neo Shiba and Kyuden Hida would be very interested in studying this animal."

"You have friends in Kyuden Hida?" Aihime asked, amazed. It seemed that every child had been swept away by the wonder of Kyuden Hida, and Aihime was no exception.

"I was there when they fixed it so that it would fly!" Zuiken said with a proud smile and a nod to the little girl. "I was not always an ornithologist, you know."

"I would be honored if I could help your esteemed associates in the Crab and Phoenix," Hinako replied with a smile.

"Then I will call them in the morning," Zuiken said, collecting his accouterments from the table and returning them to his bag. "We shall see what their reaction will be, but I have little doubt their interest will be equal to mine. You may become a very famous bird, little one." Zuiken stooped and smiled at the little crow. It poked playfully at his goatee.

"His name is Karasu," Aihime said with a wide grin.

"Ah," Zuiken said. "Hello, Karasu. You gave him that name, Aihime-chan?"

"No," Aihime said. "But that's his name."

"I see," Zuiken said, smiling fondly at the little girl. "Well, I must be going now. I have patients of my own at the bird sanctuary, and they shall become cross if I do not return in short order." Zuiken bowed low to each of them including the bird, kissed Aihime on the forehead, and waddled out the door. His spry step hardly showed any signs of his extreme age.

"Did you hear that, Aihime?" Hinako said, sitting next to the little girl and letting the bird hop onto the table. "Karasu is a very important little crow."

"I know," Aihime said. "But I don't think he wants to go to Neo Shiba. If he wanted to go there, he would have gone there. He wants to go to Togashi Mountain."

"Togashi Mountain?" Hinako asked, bewildered. "How do you know that?"

"Karasu told me," Aihime said, glancing at the bird. "He said so in a dream. He has a friend there, someone he's been looking for, for a long time now."

"Aihime-" Hinako said, leaning close to the little girl with a worried expression.

She did not finish the rest. Suddenly the west wall of the veterinarian's office exploded. Dust and debris rained on Aihime and her mother, and a savage roar filled the air. Aihime lunged forward, grabbing Karasu in both hands and yanking him from the table just as a large block of wood crashed where he had been sitting. Hinako seized her daughter in her arms and backed away, staring at the broken wall in horror.

An enormous creature crouched just beyond the broken wall, a monster out of a nightmare. The beast was as high as the building's roof, covered in coarse black fur, with burning red eyes and a wide mouth filled with crooked yellow fangs. A pair of enormous claws, eerily similar to human hands, rested at the edge of the broken wall. The creature stared at the two hungrily, it's thick tail slashing back and forth in the air behind it. It's nose twitched, taking in the scent of the air in excitement. It had found what it was seeking.

"Seven Fortunes," Hinako cursed, jaw slack in terror.

"It's the weasel!" Aihime cried, holding Karasu to her chest. The bird was shrieking in fear. "It's the thing in the forest that wanted to eat Karasu! It's back!"

The beast lowered one paw into the office, heaving its massive bulk downward and lowering its head as it slithered inside. Serrated whiskers twitched and left gouges in the stone as it homed in on the crow. Green-tinted drool spilled between its teeth, hanging from a long tongue as its putrid breath polluted the room. The creature was slow, certain. It knew that it had succeeded, and was enjoying the fear of its prey.

The door of the office opened suddenly, and Doctor Kuni Zuiken stepped into the room. The creature turned to view this new arrival. Zuiken cleared his throat.

"Jade and Crystal. By the power of Hida's blood and Kaiu's tempered steel, deliver thee back to Jigoku," Zuiken chanted, pointing one finger at the beast.

A beam of bright green suddenly fired into the creature's eyes. It shrieked in terror as thick green plates erupted from its skin, clicking into place and interlocking with one another over the course of several seconds. Quicker than the eye could see, the giant weasel solidified into a single tomb of jade. The green statue shivered for several moments as the beast's muffled roars of agony cracked the casing around its mouth. Then, the roaring stopped and the beast was still. Aihime and Hinako stared at Doctor Kuni in surprise.

"I told you," Zuiken said, straightening his coat and catching his breath. "I was not always an ornithologist. Like I said, that bird is lucky." He stooped and picked something up from the floor, displaying it in triumph. "He made me forget my pen light."


"Over here we have Chojin's own suit of armor," Meliko said, quickly prancing forward to lift one of the long silk tassels that dangled from the helmet. "It's enchanted so he can put it on in seconds. It's very old, but still good. Just like Chojin."

"Hey, don't touch that!" Chojin growled from where he sat.

"I thought Dragons were against modern weapons," Hatsu said, looking over a table lined with guns and other modern implements of destruction.

"We are," Chojin said with a nod. "But it doesn't hurt to be aware of what's out there. That's my personal collection."

"Pretty complete collection," Sachiko said, holding up a large grenade. "Napalm?"

"Don't play with that," Chojin said, pointing at her. "Those are Senpet military issue. Nasty business."

"How did you get it?" Sachiko asked, setting it back down.

"A Senpet soldier donated a few during the invasion," Chojin grinned and fed another potato chip to Hatsu's dog.

"If you'll step this way," Meliko said. "I can show you Chojin's old anvil. Legend has it that once upon a time it actually weighed more than Chojin does."

"Hey!" the old samurai shouted as she scampered away, Akkan in close pursuit. "Little brat..."

Hatsu glanced over one shoulder in irritation.

"What's wrong?" Sachiko whispered to him, a concerned look.

"Them," he whispered back, gesturing toward Orin and Hisojo. "I come here to find out the truth, and already we have secrets again. How am I supposed to trust any of these people?"

"So don't," Sachiko shrugged. "Didn't you tell me that Lord Hoshi gave you some sort of tattoo that increases your perceptions? Listen in."

"I don't know if that would be right," Hatsu replied, looking at her.

"Okay, then," Sachiko said. "When we're fighting the Stormbreaker, you can just wonder whether any of this might have been important."

"Good point," Hatsu agreed. Hatsu concentrated for a moment, reaching deep into the power of the Void, the mystic kanji he bore upon his chest went ice cold and red hot at once. The world seemed to swirl into focus. The harsh rumble of the air met his ears. The sharp edge of every molecule became apparent. The conversation between Orin Wake and Hisojo was clear in his mind, but suddenly that all seemed unimportant.

"Are either of you listening to me?" Meliko pouted, stamping one foot on the ground. "Hey, what's wrong with Hatsu?"

"What?" Sachiko asked, looking at him curiously. "What is it, Hatsu?"

"Thunders," he said, staring in horror at the black thing pulsing deep inside the Battle Maiden's head. "Sachiko, we have to talk."


Gohei was tired of waiting. He didn't like to wait. He was a patient man, despite his reputation, and could be surprisingly patient while waiting for an enemy to make a mistake. However, he didn't like to wait when there were better things he could be doing, and it seemed like there were better things he could be doing now.

"What is she doing in there?" he whispered to the zokujin as he paced up and down the garden path.

"Waiting," Argcklt replied. The zokujin squatted on the earth nearby, calmly watching Jurin through the gateway of the courtyard.

"Did the spirit answer her call?" Gohei asked.

"Yes, but it departed shortly thereafter," Argcklt said, calmly poking through the pebbles that lined the path with his long fingers. "Spirits can be tempestuous at times, prone to rash actions." The zokujin looked at Gohei meaningfully.

"If I seem tense it is because I am tense, zokujin," Gohei said, catching the creature's implication. "I happen to be the leader of the single largest army in an Empire. I may or may not be at war tomorrow. I should begone from this place and return to my offices so I can coordinate with my staff."

"Why do you not?" the zokujin asked, tilting its flat head slightly as it peered up at the Lion. It picked up a small pebble and popped it in its mouth.

Gohei stopped his pacing for a moment, gazing into the courtyard where Jurin still waited. "Because this journal, if it exists, may be our last chance at peace. You were correct when you saw that in me, zokujin. Though I may excel in battle, I do not revel in it."

Argcklt smiled. "That is why Jurin trusts you," he said. "My name is Argcklt."

Gohei nodded, unsure if he could pronounce the name and unwilling to make the attempt. He was about to resume pacing when a single loud crack sounded from across the Tombs. Gohei froze.

"What was that?" Argcklt asked, his white mane bristling where his ears should be. A pebble fell from his fingers.

"Gunfire," Gohei replied, staring off in the direction of the sound. "Wait here." He began to stalk slowly down the hallway.

"Gohei," Argcklt whispered. "You do not have your sword."

Gohei glanced back with fierce smile, and drew a large black Ivory Kingdoms pistol from his jacket. "I think I'll manage."

The Lion moved quietly through the passages, staying as close to the walls as possible. This part of the Tombs was largely vacant; most of the shugenja were away purifying themselves in the Temple of the Elements. Only custodians like the one he'd met earlier would be here today, certainly no one with any reason to be packing weaponry.

Gohei flattened himself in the shadows as two men rounded the corner. Both wore dark suits, both carried large automatic rifles. They wore no mons of family or clan, but they were headed toward the shrines, and Jurin. There was no doubt of their intentions; these men were assassins. Moving quickly and quietly, Gohei darted up behind one, clubbing him across the base of the skull with his pistol. A wet snap echoed in the hallway, and the man tumbled to the floor.

"Wha?" the other man turned, startled. Gohei punched him in the throat with a knife-hand chop. He would not scream, but he gurgled and choked and grasped at his throat as his lungs filled with blood. Gohei wrenched away his weapon and watched him die.

He was nearly at the gate now. He detected an odd acrid scent in the air, faint but definitely familiar. Gohei listened carefully, and heard the faint sound of footsteps, moving away through the Tombs. He leaned around the corner and saw a slumped form laying next to the door. The gaijin custodian Gohei had met earlier. Shot once, in the eye. A pool of blood was rapidly collecting around the corpse. Gohei sneered. He had little love for gaijin, but cold-blooded murder was something else entirely. Whoever these assassins were, he pitied them, for he would find them. The footsteps were growing louder, returning. These men were cocky, to be so obvious.

"Anything?" said a voice. Gohei opened his eyes with a start. A tall, pale figure with dark sunglasses stood just beside the gates. Somehow Gohei had not noticed him. He resembled Tsuruchi Kyo, former Captain of the Imperial Guard, but Tsuruchi Kyo was dead. Wasn't he?

"Nothing, sir," came the reply. Another pair men in dark suits entered from the far hallway, each of them carrying automatic rifles.

The tall man looked toward Gohei, a curious look in his eyes. "The others should have returned." He stepped forward, drawing two great pistols from his jacket. Definitely Tsuruchi Kyo. Gohei didn't know how the Wasp could be alive, but he didn't care much. He fixed the sight of his pistol on Kyo's heart.

"They are dead," Kyo said. "I warned them not to underestimate the Lion." For a moment, a shadow flickered over the man's form. For just a moment, he resembled an inhuman beast, large and insectoid.

Gohei paused, finger on the trigger. The Crab had claimed that there were oni in the city, creatures that could only be killed by crystal or jade. Oni could take the forms of men, at least in legend. No sense in wasting the first shot. He aimed at one of the others instead, squeezing off a bullet that took him in the forehead. The other glanced around in surprise and Gohei fired again, striking him in the shoulder and putting him down.

"Matsu Gohei!" Kyo cackled, firing a stream of bullets from both pistols toward Gohei's hiding place. Gohei leapt from cover, casting his pistol to the ground and bringing up his stolen rifle. Bullets raked the area where Kyo stood, but the Wasp remained still, laughing maniacally. His dark shadow flickered as each bullet struck, deflecting them without harm. Gohei kept running. He felt something hot bite into his side but ignored it. "Ignore the pain and the effects will address you later," his sensei taught him. Gohei dove into an alcove as and waited for Kyo to reload.

"No sense in running, little Lion," the Wasp called out, slowly advancing toward the Lion. "The Emperor's judgment is absolute, as is Lord Munashi's. I'm sure you can't blame them. The Stormbreaker can hardly afford to have such an honorable and charismatic man in command of the Lion armies when the Day of Thunder comes. Your family will be seen to as well, but we still can't risk the possibility of your presence becoming a threat. You need to be removed, Gohei. You will not be another Toturi. Nothing personal. Every Day of Thunder has a gelded Lion, I suppose."

Gohei said nothing. He did not respond to taunts. He simply checked his ammunition and glanced around for some other sort of weapon. Something jade, something crystal, something that could harm an oni, or whatever Kyo was. He did not check his wound; he knew it was bad just by the feel. To inspect it would confirm his fear and sap his will. As he looked back the way he had come, two glowing yellow spheres suddenly appeared. Argcklt.

"Hello," Kyo said, both guns clicking into position as the zokujin stepped into view. What are you doing, little copper goblin?

"Oni," Argcklt said leveling one thick finger at the Wasp. "Release that man and return to Jigoku."

Kyo's face twisted for half an instant in indecision, then the shadow flickered about his form. "Mind your business, zokujin," he said, and fired both guns.

With lighting speed, Argcklt slapped one hand against the floor. The stone and tile erupted as if liquid, but froze in mid-air. The wall to repelled the assassin's bullets.

"I warn you a second time, demon," Argcklt said, golden eyes narrowing as he peered over the wall. "Begone."

"You are interfering here," Kyo said in a suddenly savage voice, a voice that echoed as if projected into a cave. "Your kind failed upon their Day of Thunder. This is not your world any longer."

"If you did not wish us to interfere, you should have killed us," the zokujin replied. "Your arrogance will be your undoing. Do you realize where you are?"

Kyo advanced toward the zokujin. "Should I care?" he asked, "I am Akeru, Elemental Terror of the Void. No ancestor can match me. No single ancestor would dare." He loaded his guns once more and aimed them at the zokujin.

"No single ancestor, no," Argcklt said gravely.

Kyo squeezed the trigger, but his finger stopped. Suddenly, his hand began to shake. Cold tendrils, a thousand unseen hands, pulled the gun from his hand, sending it clattering across the room. Fierce pain struck across his side, and a savage cut opened along his hip. Another unseen blow struck him across the skull, stripping his sunglasses. The Wasp collapsed with a groan, crushed beneath the weight of the thousands of ancestors who protected the Tombs. Kyo's form flickered and was eclipsed by the shadow form of Akeru. The insectoid eyes fixed upon Argcklt in a gaze of pure hatred, then the oni vanished.

Argcklt rose from his cover and quickly ran to Gohei's side, inspecting the Lion's wound. The floor returned to its former state as soon as Argcklt turned his attention away. "We must take you to Jurin-san," the zokujin said. "And quickly."

Gohei nodded at the creature in respect. "How did you do that?" he asked. "How did you cause the ancestors to attack him? I've never seen anything like it."

"I did nothing," Argcklt said. "I merely directed them to their enemy, provided them leadership. That, I think, is the same reason he wished to destroy you. He will return, I fear."

"Let him," Gohei said staggering to his feet. "We will be ready."


"Implanted?" Sachiko exclaimed. "What are you talking about, Hatsu? That's impossible!"

"Yeah," Daidoji Ishio said from where he stood nearby. "They look natural enough to-"

"Shut up, Crane, that's not what they're talking about," Meliko snapped.

Mirumoto Chojin suddenly rose from his seat, his face rigid and stern. Hisojo and Orin also appeared. Hisojo was visibly upset. "What did you say just now, Hatsu?" Hisojo said, turning from Hatsu to Sachiko. "Did you just say something about tetsukansen?"

"It was my tattoo," Hatsu said, turning to Hisojo fearfully. "I sensed something inside of Sachiko... something Tainted. I think she may be implanted."

"I'm not implanted!" Sachiko retorted angrily. "I'm not controlled by the Stormbreaker!" "Calm yourself, Otaku-san," Hisojo said quickly. "Control is not the issue here. Many carriers are unaware of their condition. Some are not agents, merely unknowing spies. Chojin, alert the others. We must clear this safe-house immediately."

"Where will we go, Hisojo?" Chojin asked, already strapping on the last few pieces of his magical armor.

"It does not matter," Hisojo replied. "We cannot stay here. We are too dangerous for the Stormbreaker to allow us to live. It may already be too late."

"It is too late, old one."

Hatsu turned to see a tall, gaunt man dressed in tattered violet robes step from nothing. His eyes were pools of darkness.

"Die," the man said.

Hatsu dove, knocking Hisojo to the side just as a table covered with swords and knives exploded behind them. Razor sharp pellets of steel flew everywhere. Orin ducked in front of Meliko, catching a steel bolt in his thick forearm. Ishio fell back against the wall, a broken blades lodged in his thigh and shoulder. Sachiko dodged behind a table as a blade sliced her calf. Chojin simply stood where he was, the metal reflecting harmlessly off of his dark green armor.

"Ishak," Hisojo coughed. "The Oracle of the Void..." Blood trickled from the old man's mouth, and he lay still.

"Hisojo!" Hatsu shouted. "Hisojo!"

"The old man is as good as dead, Thunder," Ishak laughed. "Have no illusions. You will be next."

"Chojin! Meliko" Orin shouted, tearing the blade out of his arm and tossing it aside. "Get Hisojo and Ishio out of here!"

"I can take care of myself!" Meliko cried.

"Damnit, girl, listen for once," Chojin snarled. "Get Hisojo!" The weaponsmith marched forward, lifting one of Ishio's arms over his shoulder and grabbing Akkan by the scruff of the neck. The young ise zumi nodded, leaping over the shattered tables and hoisting the old man. Hatsu stood between them and the Oracle, drawing his dragon's claw sword.

"Ishak," Hatsu said, stepping toward the Oracle. "You are the one who slew my mother, who slew Lord Hoshi." Meliko glanced at Orin, then ran, carrying Hisojo's limp form easily as she escaped at Chojin's side.

"I?" Ishak asked, pressing one hand against his sunken chest. "Not I. They slew themselves, by interfering in my plans. You Dragons have a tendency for foolish self sacrifice." Ishak pointed at Hatsu and a ripple passed through the air. Hatsu brought his sword up to block. A deafening shockwave exploded through the building as the wave met the dragon-claw blade, shattering the windows and forcing Ishak to take a step back. Hatsu staggered and collapsed to his knees. "An intriguing weapon," the Oracle remarked. He kicked Hatsu in the chest, sending him flying to crash into the wall twenty feet away.

"Hatsu!" Orin shouted. He leapt to the attack. His katana gleamed bright gold. Sachiko charged forward as well, firing one of the pistols she had taken from Chojin's table, clutching a grenade in her free hand.

"Begone, gaijin," Ishak spat. Moving quicker than Orin could comprehend, Ishak dodged the blade and struck him across the jaw. Orin was thrown back, sword flying from his hands. Sachiko's bullets tore Ishak's robes but had no other effect. He turned toward her with a scowl, lunging forward and seizing her by the throat with impossible speed.

"Ah, our little spy," Ishak said, looking up at Sachiko as he held her above the floor. Blood streamed from the wound in her calf. "Such pretty eyes you have. I thank you for allowing us to see through them all this time, for leading us to the Hidden Dragon." The sound of gunfire and screams erupted from outside.

"What's going on?" Hatsu groaned, staggering to his feet, reaching for his sword.

"You assumed I was alone?" Ishak laughed. "I won't make that mistake twice. My good son dispatched one hundred of his best troops to help me crush your worthless Hidden Dragon. Another hundred make their way to the lair of Toturi's Army as we speak. Your war is over, mortals. The Thunders will die, starting with this one." His hand tightened on Sachiko's throat. The grenade tumbled from her hand.

"You can't kill her, Ishak," Orin shouted. "An Oracle can't kill a Thunder."

"Pity for you, I'm not a proper Oracle," Ishak said. "I did not assume my role, I stole it. I am unbound by Jigoku's rules."

"Then be bound by this," Sachiko choked. She brought the large pistol around, pointed it at Ishak.

"Go ahead and fire," the Oracle laughed, staring into the barrel.

"I'm not... aiming... at you," she said, and smiled through the pain.

"Sachiko, no!" Hatsu shouted in horror. Orin realized what was about to happen as well and leapt, knocking Hatsu behind an overturned table as Sachiko shot the grenade.

Everything went white.


Yoritomo VII stood before the assembled citizens of Otosan Uchi. The podium was elevated, the stage flanked on either side by a thick formation of Imperial Guard. The armor and weapons the guardsmen wore were functional, not ceremonial. The Emperor was dressed in full armor, his father's great sword sheathed across his back. His face was covered by a fearsome mempo, though the chin portion seemed to have broken away. A nervous mutter ran through the crowd. It seemed obvious that Yoritomo had not come to discuss peace.

"People of Otosan Uchi," Yoritomo announced, his already bold voice resounding through countless speakers and monitors, "People of Rokugan. People of the world. We will not mince words. You know why we have called you here. Tomorrow is the day of the Bon Festival, the ceremony where we honor those who have fallen in defense of honor and justice, the deadline of our father's great ultimatum. We have seen the terrible price my father's war demanded. When that day comes, no doubt you wonder what course of action we will take."

Silence fell as Yoritomo VII scanned the assembled crowd. The cameras broadcast the Emperor's visage in close detail as he surveyed the people. His eyes were like dark flint, unmoved and unknowable.

"We have mourned the loss of loved ones," the Emperor continued. "We have seen the city burn and children die. We have seen the terrible price of war both in our own city and in the tragedy of Medinaat-al-Salaam. Our own father's life was claimed as a result of his ultimatum, the Great Clans split by his decision. Now, more than ever, our course is clear."

The Emperor was silent again, and the crowd waited with bated breath for the words that would come next.

"Tomorrow," the Emperor said, "The nations of the world will bow before Rokugan, or be destroyed."

The crowd erupted with cries of terror and outrage. The Imperial Guard drew their weapons, daring any attempt to rush the stage. The Emperor simply held his ground silently, and waited.

"Our father spoke true when he said 'All that lives must obey the Emperor. All that exists gives him fealty and obeys his will.' It was the ignorance of the Senpet that drove them to attack our city. It was Doji Meda's obsession with mercantile gaijin investments that drove loyalty from his heart. The Locust were not the down-trodden anarchists they claim to be, but mere pawns driven to revolt by gaijin interests. Those who look upon the chaos that has befallen the city as the result of our great father's lust for peace are misguided.

"These waves of darkness are not the result of the ultimatum, but a disease that feared its cure. The outside world has proven itself a danger. Hoshi Jack, the descendant of Shinsei, warns that the Day of Thunder approaches. As a nation, we cannot afford to expose ourselves to the dangers of outside predators while the true enemy beckons on our doorstep. We will not allow another Shadow Wars. We will not allow the Empire to fall again. We will unite the world as one so we may stand together, or die trying."

The Emperor paused. An eerie, stunned silence had fallen over the assembly.

"That is all. Brothers, sisters, prepare yourselves for the worst," the Emperor said. "Tomorrow, the war may begin."


Zou sped through the streets of Otosan Uchi, pressing the gas pedal to the floor. The black Vehement sliced through evening traffic like a knife through butter, paying no attention to those to slow to get out of the way. Oroki sat in the passenger seat beside the Enforcer, eyes fixed on the road before them and arms folded in impatience.

"How much longer?" Oroki asked.

"Ten minutes, at the most," Zou replied.

"Too long!" Oroki snarled, snatching the cellular phone from its mounting on the dashboard.

"Master-" Zou cautioned.

"I know it's an insecure line, but we're past the point of caring," the Scorpion said angrily. He punched at the keypad and held the phone to his ear, drumming his fingers impatiently on the door handle.

"Godaigo," came the response.

"Wrong," Oroki said. "Dairya."

"Who is this?"

"Give me Dairya, damn it!" Oroki hissed. "This is an emergency!"

"He's resting-"

"Wake him up or you'll sleep forever," Oroki said coolly. "This is Toturi."

"It's for you," came the muffled reply.

"Toturi?" came Dairya's voice.

"Dairya, mobilize the Army," Oroki said quickly. "I don't care what you have to do or how you have to do it, but get them out of there, now!"

"Godaigo, get Ginawa!" Dairya shouted. He had known Oroki for too long to doubt his advice.

Oroki could hear the doctor offer argument. Oroki cursed. Obviously the sort of fellow that died a deer trapped in headlights in a past life.

"Tell Ginawa to clear the building!" Dairya commanded. "We are evacuating! No arguments!"

Oroki heard the doctor make some final reply, then hurry out of the room. Thank heavens for small favors.

"What's up?" Dairya said into the receiver.

"I've been researching the Stormbreaker," Oroki said. "I believe I know who he is. Unfortunately, he knows about the Army, too. Asahina Munashi has dispatched Dojicorp guardsmen to wipe out your headquarters."

"How many?" Dairya asked.

"It doesn't matter," Oroki said. "Munashi wants you to fight. If you fight back, the Shinjo will become involved and I'm afraid they won't be on your side."

"Munashi is the Stormbreaker?" Dairya asked.

"No such luck," Oroki said. "Is Akodo Daniri with you?"

"He's here, yes," Dairya said.

"Don't tell him where you're going," Oroki said. "Tell him to meet me at the #14 Monorail station in Little Jigoku."

"Why?" Dairya asked.

"I'll tell him myself," Oroki said, hanging up the phone. "Right before I kill him."


"Intelligence reports, sir. Your fears were correct. Devin Wake is dead. His son, Orin, is missing and is believed to be a prisoner of the Rokugani government."

Maximillian nodded. The president's craggy face was unreadable as he pondered the large picture window. In the distance, the sun set brilliantly over the rolling hills of Amijdal.

"Our spies report nothing on the status of the Fire Dragons," the black-uniformed messenger reported. "As in past expeditions to Rokugan, all attempts to divine the locations of the storage silos have met with utter failure. It is as if the weapons do not exist."

Maximillian turned, a sad cast in his steel-grey eyes. "Can you look upon Medinaat-al-Salaam, my friend, and tell me they do not exist?"

The messenger looked uncomfortable under the president's attention. "I'm sorry, sir," he said. "I'm only reporting-"

"I know," Maximillian nodded. "You can go. Send in the Cabinet."

The messenger nodded, saluted sharply, and turned to leave. President Maximillian Charest simply remained where he was, arms folded behind his back. He considered his reflection in the full length mirror that lay propped against one wall of his plush office. He hardly recognized himself. The weathered soldier he had come to know had been replaced, somewhere along the line, with an old man in a nicely pressed suit. His short-cropped hair of jet black was peppered with unfamiliar grey. His face was lined with worry and regret, and his once muscular build had begun to fatten from hours spent in an office. He had worked hard, sacrificed much, to help keep the Amijdal nation at the forefront of world politics, to keep the world at peace. He wondered if, in the end, any of it would matter. In twenty-four hours the world could be wiped away by the press of a button.

Maximillian sighed.

The door opened once more and the seven members of his cabinet filed in. He realized that after six years in office, he hardly knew any of them. General Carter was a familiar face; the two had fought together during Ivory Storm. Secretary Davis was also a constant fixture; her advice had been indispensable in helping restore life to the nation's economy after the crash of '95. The others? He knew their names, he knew their positions, but he did not know them. They had been selected to satisfy lobbyists or repay favors. So unlike his days in the military. Even after all this time, he was having trouble adjusting to the art of peace. Now that he thought he might have the hang of it, the world was at war again.

"So," Maximillian said, moving to the head of the assembly table as each of the Cabinet members took their places. "I assume you have all heard the news."

"That the new Rokugani Emperor is as mad as his father?" Secretary Smolik laughed. "This changes nothing in my mind. I expected this. What do you expect from a nation so backward as to follow a monarchy?"

"Do not underestimate the Rokugani," General Carter said quickly. "Their samurai caste has held power through its many incarnations because of one thing - the Rokugani understand power. Whether that power be a result of military strategy, technology, or magic, they know what needs to be done to remain in control. I doubt if the Shadow Wars had begun in the Ivory Kingdoms that any of us would be standing here right now. The Rokugani are relentless warriors, and endlessly resourceful opponents. It would be a mistake for us to underestimate them, especially at this date."

"Wait," Secretary Genevieve said, raising her hand and patting a bit of her dishpan-blonde hair back into place. "You speak as if we're already at war with them. The Assembly has made no decision-"

"Semantics. We are at war with Rokugan, Helen!" Secretary Denver said, his thick mustache wagging as he chewed the air. "Let us be honest with ourselves. Our relations with the Diamond Empire were at best strained even before Yoritomo's ridiculous ultimatum and the death of the Wakes. I hope it will not take us as long to recognize our enemy as it did the Pharaoh."

"I tend to agree," Maximillian said bluntly. "The Assembly meets within the hour and given the uncompromising tone of the Emperor's announcement, I fear we can expect little mercy from our side. The Assembly will declare war, and we must be ready to destroy the Diamond Empire before they do the same to us."

Secretary Wordsworth's eyes widened. "Attack a nation with Fire Dragons? We're signing our own death sentence!"

Maximillian shook his head. "I will make no action that endangers the life of the Amijdali people, but I will not trade the freedom we have built for slavery at the hands of that Rokugani madman. Congress will be sequestered, as will all of you. No one outside of this room will know of our decision until we have decided on the best course of action. General Carter? I believe this is your arena."

The General nodded. "Fire Dragons are a close kept secret," the general said in his standard calm monotone. "It is my estimation that only the Emperor himself has access to their launch codes, or we would have at least located their silos by now. We have several ships cloaked via stealth technology, just off the coast of the Diamond Empire. A swift surgical strike to the heart of Otosan Uchi, total destruction of the Diamond Palace, will neutralize the Emperor and thus remove any threat. The war will have ended before it begins."

"What of Kyuden Hida?" Secretary Genevieve asked. "How will your fighters get past that?"

"Our intelligence reports that the Crab Clan, the faction who control the Kyuden, are currently at odds with the Emperor," Carter said. "However, I am not one to underestimate the solidarity of samurai when opposed by outside forces. Our fighters will be swift enough to pierce the city defenses. The commander of the mission knows the quickest route to the Palace, and is dedicated enough to do the job safely. He knows that there is a high possibility that he will not return alive, and accepts that possibility."

"Really," Secretary Black chuckled, sipping from a glass of water, "and who might this selfless defender of Amijdal be?"

"He is Commander Athmose," Maximillian replied. "A Senpet expatriate. He led the Senpet invasion into Otosan Uchi. Had it not been for Kyuden Hida, his mission of vengeance would have been successful. We have given him another chance, and he has accepted. His family were slaughtered in the destruction of Medinaat-al-Salaam. He lives for nothing but to see that such a tragedy will not happen again."

"There is an old Yodatai saying," Secretary Davis said, "'Desperate men are not to be trusted.'"

"I know," the president replied. "Let us hope that Commander Athmose will decide to trust us, nonetheless."


"Goro," Heichi Tetsugi said, stepping into the cell.

It wasn't a cell, in truth. It was well decorated and had all the comforts of home, except for telephones, windows, and doors that opened when you wanted them to. All in all, the Bee Clan Ambassador had been living quite well for the two weeks since the Boar's men had abducted him.

Hachi Goro stood quickly, an imperious expression upon his round face. He was a foot shorter than Tetsugi, but that did not hamper his attitude. "I suppose you have finally dredged up the honor to face the weight of your crimes," Goro said in his high pitched voice. "I suppose you have decided to free me in hopes that your behavior will win you favor with the Emperor! Perhaps that he will grant you honorable seppuku! Foolish, Boar, I shall see to it that your execution will be most heinous! All traitors shall be persecuted to the full extent of-"

"Quite, Bee," the man said. "I'm not in the mood for your rants. And do not call me Tetsugi. That name is no more."

The Bee blinked. "Have you gone mad?"

"Gone sane, more like," the man replied. He drew a sword from his belt, a glimmering golden katana with both a scorpion and dragon carved upon the tsuba. A low rumble rolled through the room as he drew the blade.

"Who are you?" Goro squeaked. He could not tear his eyes from the blade. He saw light and darkness within, locked in eternal combat. That and... something else. Something deeper.

"I am Bayushi Dairyu, daimyo of the Scorpion Clan, dead these ten years," Tetsugi said, his eyes shining with an ancient ferocity. "I will not let Munashi and his pet Emperor gain another ally, even one as minor as the Bee Clan."

"H-h-have you come to kill me?" Goro asked, trembling in fear.

"No," Dairyu said. "I have come to show you the way..."


"I was wrong, brother."

The Old Man turned upon the simple wooden chair where he spent so much of his time. The silence of the mountain settled heavily as the Old Man regarded the misty, half-formed creature that visited him. Slowly, inexorably, a process began which the world had not seen in centuries.

The Old Man of the Mountain smiled.

"You have no idea," the Old Man said. "How long I've waited to hear you say that. No matter what face you wear, Togashi, it is no less satisfying."

"I am not Togashi," the visitor replied. "I am Hoshi, lord of the Hidden Dragon." He took a single step forward, but stumbled, staggering on one knee. The Old Man rose from his chair and moved quickly across the room, catching the strange visitor's arm and helping him to his feet.

"I have cast away my mask," the Old Man said, looking steadily into Lord Hoshi's eyes. "Is it not time you cast away your own?"

"I am not Togashi," Hoshi repeated. A thin trail of blood hung from the Dragon's lip. Another poured from his eye. He was barely alive.

"We are immortal, you and I, brother," the Old Man laughed. "We do what we must to stay alive. The shell may be different, but the soul of Togashi has long since overwhelmed whatever mortal mind once controlled your body. I commend your foresight. I always wondered, vaguely, why you turned the minds of your shugenja toward the cause of science. Now I see it clear. You planted the seeds of your own rebirth. The best of my own schemes pale in comparison. I suppose that is why you were always secretly my favorite brother."

"In the end, this body was not strong enough," Hoshi said, his breath ragged. "The Dark Oracle was too powerful. It was all I could do to destroy... destroy the Factory... destroy it all so that it could not be salvaged..." Hoshi sagged in the Old Man's arms. The Old Man steadied the weakened Dragon, showing surprising strength for his apparent frailty.

The Old Man chuckled darkly. "I know you, Togashi," he said. "Of all that have dwelled beneath the sun, perhaps I am the only one that can make that claim. You never do anything without purpose. Why have you come here? Certainly not so I can watch you die again."

"I have erred," Hoshi coughed, another trail of blood dripping from his lip. "Whether it was the human weakness I have inherited with this body or my own foolishness for thinking I knew this modern world, I have erred. I have wronged my people greatly. I have brought them to this. I cannot die and leave this unfinished. I must survive until the Day of Thunder..."

The Old Man chuckled, he slowly crossed the great Chamber of the Mountain, easily carrying Lord Hoshi's weight. "And when do you suppose you erred?" he asked. "When you implanted the Mirumoto with a tetsukansen, perhaps? Or was it when you called upon my aid to have the sixth Yoritomo assassinated in hopes of rushing the Stormbreaker's plans? Or was it perhaps when you sent the Kitsuki's parents to their deaths?"

"That was not my-" Hoshi protested weakly.

"Oh, please, Togashi," the Old Man said, settling Hoshi into the chair. "We each have our gift. Duplicity was mine. Prophecy was yours. You knew what would happen, but the parents were unimportant in your great scheme. You risked much to create Ishinomori, and more to destroy her."

"I risked enough," Hoshi coughed.

"That has always been the difference between us, hasn't it?" the Old Man said. He folded his arms in his robes and took a step back, regarding the fallen Lord of the Hidden Dragon with quiet pity. "For you, brother, the ends bring justice to the means. And I? I recognized long ago that there was no justice." He looked off to the corner of the room, where his faceless companion watched in silence.

Lord Hoshi lifted his head, muscles in his neck trembling with the effort. His eyes swam with a thousand colors as they focused upon the Old Man in desperation. "I must survive until the Day of Thunder," he said in a hoarse voice. "I... Must... Survive..."

"You think I have a way to save you?" the Old Man asked, a hint of mockery in his voice.

"I know you have a way," Hoshi said, sudden strength in his voice. "The Lying Darkness... the power Shosuro carries even now..."

"No, brother," the Old Man said, stroking his beard. "You exchange one servitude for another. The Lying Darkness consumed Rokugan twice already. All it takes is the barest uncontrolled sliver for the entire thing to be born again. I will not allow it. You are not strong enough."

"Shosuro is strong enough," Hoshi groaned.

"Of course she is," the Old Man replied. "Mortals are stronger than we are. Shinsei taught us that."

"Will you... let me... die?" Hoshi coughed.

The Old Man watched Hoshi for a long moment, then shook his head. "No, my brother," he said. "I will not let you die."


"That was quite good," Munashi said, entering the room with a hiss of fine silken robes.

The Emperor looked up from his desk, where the bare blade of Ambition gleamed. "Yes?" he said in a gruff voice, upper lip quivering in hatred. "What do you want now, Crane?"

"Only to congratulate you on a successful address," Munashi replied. "You've kept the Empire on its proper path, and you only had to lie once. Of course, there aren't any Locusts left to argue with you so it's not like that's a big deal--"

"What do you want, Crane?" the Emperor said, much louder and harsher this time. His hand strayed toward the handle of the sword on his desk.

"Temper, Kameru," Munashi said, single eye narrowing. "You may be Emperor now, but remember who is in control."

"Only because you hold Kamiko," the Emperor snarled. "I was a fool to listen to you. I would rather she died than remained in your prisons. At least then she would have some semblance of honor."

"Don't fool yourself, Kameru," Munashi chuckled. "Do you really think death would place her beyond my grasp? Now, be silent. We have an apocalypse to prepare."

"But Munashi," the Emperor chuckled hysterically, "don't you think the nations of the world are going to surrender like my father dreamed?"

"No disease ever wishes to be cured," Munashi smiled primly. "Sad fact of life. Now, let us plan. I need the access codes and locations of the Fire Dragon missiles."

The Emperor nodded, running one finger along the edge of the Bloodsword's blade. He looked up with a strange glint in his eye. "No," he said.

Munashi's eye widened. "Excuse me?" Munashi retorted. "Allow me to remind you, pawn, I have more leverage upon you than your dear Kamiko. If you persist in your defiance-"

"No defiance," the Emperor shrugged. "I know there's no escape for me now. I don't know the codes. I don't even know where to find them."

Munashi shook his head. "The Dragons never told you?"

"No," the Emperor chuckled. "Hisojo never mentioned them. Almost as if... almost as if he didn't trust me with them. Kind of strange, wouldn't you say?" The Emperor's laughter slowly trailed away, replaced by a painful intake of breath.

Munashi muttered under his breath. "If father does not return with a few Dragons, this could make things more difficult."

"I apologize sincerely, Munashi-sama," the Emperor said in a mocking voice. "The last thing I'd want in the world is to make things more difficult for you."

"Oh, you are mistaken," Munashi said sharply. "Nothing changes where I am concerned. It is your life, Kameru, that has just become more difficult."


TO BE CONTINUED


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