Fifteen Hundred Years Ago...

The dark man laughed as he rose his blade to the sky. The deal had been made, the pact sealed. The four blades had been forged and, with one exception, all had served their purpose. Passion had hurled its wielder into the sea. Judgment had claimed the life of the Crab and his family, as well. Revenge drank deeply from the blood of the proud Lion, destroying the lives of countless soldiers who had been foolish enough to follow her into the mountains, as well. Only Ambition had failed.

An odd thing, that. He had thought that Ambition was surely the greatest of the four. No matter. Revenge had taken more than enough life. The sacrifice would be sufficient. The power was now his for the taking; all he had to do was call forth the one who waited on the other side. Iuchiban looked down into the eyes of his followers, all glowing with the zeal of the truly enlightened. They knew that their cause was true, that their victory was at hand. True power did not lie in service to the pathetic kami and their all to fragile human failings, power was for those strong enough to take it, wise enough to find it, and brave enough to try. Iuchiban did not fear the dark price of black magic, he was strong enough to defeat Jigoku itself. No man, no spirit, no demon would be his master.

At a single word of command, figures began to rise from the cemetery. Long dead samurai wearing chilling masks of porcelain, they were now his puppets. Dark creatures lurked in the trees and shadows, lesser spawn of the greater oni to come. One of them huddled near Iuchiban's feet, a child-like creature with a face sweet and innocent. Iuchiban was more wary of that one than all the others. It smiled at him, and he scowled.

Iuchiban ordered the thing away. It scampered into the bushes with the happiness of a child. Pathetic. Cruel though it may be, it was weak. Iuchiban had no time for the weak. He could feel the pulse of dark energy through the earth, running all through the city. Soon... soon...

"Master!" shouted a monk, running to Iuchiban's side and falling prostrate before him. "Invaders in the cemetery!"

"You lie," Iuchiban said, his voice like ice. "Not here. Not now, of all times. Tell me that you dealt with them appropriately."

The monk shook his head quickly. "No sir, he escaped," the monk replied. "There was only one. Only a Scorpion. Perhaps there is no reason to be alarmed?"

Iuchiban, gestured for the monk to rise, then delivered a savage blow to the man's throat, shattering his windpipe. The monk fell, choking on his blood. "There is no such thing as only a Scorpion, idiot," Iuchiban hissed. He turned to his assembled servants. "We must prepare for war. The Imperial Guard will be here within minutes. We need only one more hour. Only one more! Hold them off for that long, and the city shall be ours!"

As Iuchiban's voice faded into an echo, a new sound replaced it. The sound of marching boots echoed through the city. An army of Lions were already circling on Iuchiban's position. There would not be much time left.

The servants of Iuchiban dispersed to rouse their brethren, to gather arms and equipment, and to speak the final spells that would raise the ancient dead of the Empire. Iuchiban himself turned away from the rest, gesturing for a select few to follow him. While the others fought the good fight against, he would retreat to the sub-basements to secure their true victory.

He needed only an hour...

The sun rose in the east, as it always had.

Mirumoto Rojo stood at the edge of the mountainside. At this height, the wind clawed savagely at his bare skin, tangled his long black hair around his face. He did not notice the elements' fury, yet all of it was a part of him. The natural harmonies did not disturb the Hidden Dragon. Wind and rain, fire and smoke, all of it was one, predictable in its unpredictability, soothing, in its chaotic stability. The forces of nature merely did what they did. It was humanity that brought pain into the world.

Rojo closed his eyes tightly and clenched his teeth, blood trickling down his chin as he bit deeply into his lip. He was not himself. The influence of the tetsukansen was slowly goading him into violence. It was the Hidden Dragon's duty to protect mankind from that which it did not understand, not to embrace the esoteric and discard humanity altogether. It was hard to realize where he ended and the influence of the dark thing begin.

His solitude hardly helped. Since discovering exactly what had happened, he had set himself apart from the others. He could not allow himself to see anyone, anything, that could compromise the Hidden Dragon's mission. Every face he saw, the Stormbreaker saw as well. Every word he heard echoed through the chambers of Jigoku. After fifteen years of giving everything he had to the cause, he was useless now, a double agent. He had cast aside his armor and sword, giving them to another who would put them to good use. Now he did nothing more than displace air and consume the Hidden Dragon's much needed supplies.

"Rojo-sama," came a small voice to his left.

He glanced over one shoulder and saw a small woman, dressed in bright robes of red and green. She held a bowl of fruit in one hand, a small pitcher and cup in the other. Her long hair fell loose about her shoulders, whipping in the mountain winds. She smiled shyly at Rojo. Rojo returned the smile. Since his self-imposed exile, Kyoko had been the only one to visit him here besides Hisojo, who only studied the Dragon and said nothing. When they had first met, she was a secret operative of the Hidden Dragon. She had lived her entire life in obscurity, as a librarian at the Otosan Uchi Academy of Fine Art.

One day, Rojo called upon her, shattered her old life forever, and demanded that she join him to save the life of the Dragon Clan Thunder.

Kyoko leapt at the opportunity and never looked back. Though it was an ise zumi who gave his life to save Hatsu, the Thunder would surely have died without Kyoko's care and determination.

"I have brought you food, Rojo-sama," she added, taking a step toward him.

"Arigato," Rojo replied, bowing deeply as he turned to face her. "I have told you before, do not call me Rojo-sama. I am simply Rojo. I hold no rank. I am nothing."

"That is not what Hisojo-sama says," she answered, handing him the bowl and the pitcher. "He says that you may return to active duty at any time."

Rojo chuckled as he set the bowl down and poured a cupful of water. "I am sure he did. Hisojo is a clever man. If anyone could find a way to turn my handicap to a benefit, it would be him. No doubt he intends to send me on no end of distracting missions, designed to confuse the Stormbreaker and keep him guessing as to our true intent. I will not go on those missions."

"Why not?" Kyoko asked. She leaned against the rock and watched Rojo with a worried expression. "Don't you want to fight?"

"I never wanted to fight," Rojo said seriously, shaking his head slightly. "That is not the point. If I were sent on another mission, I would not be sent alone. I would not risk the lives of other Dragons to no good cause. Maybe others in the Hidden Dragon have no compunctions about using people, but not I."

Kyoko paused for a moment, glanced away, and narrowed her eyes at him. "Do you really think Hisojo would use you?"

"Would he not?" Rojo replied. "Has he not? Kyoko, you know what has happened to me."

"Yes, I do," she answered. "Are you sure the tetsukansen isn't coloring your reflections. Hisojo has worked tirelessly to find a cure since he learned what had happened."

Rojo considered that for several moments, then took a long drink of water. "No," he said. "I am not sure of anything. That is another reason why I am here. I do not trust myself."

Kyoko frowned, hugging her arms tightly about her chest against the chilling wind. "Is there anything we can do?" Rojo shook his head sadly. "I've played my part," he said. "The Day of Thunder will come and go without me. I have no regrets. There is little about my life I would change." Rojo looked down to one side, toward the swirling clouds far below his peak. He set down the pitcher and plucked a plum from the bowl, taking a large bite.

"I wish I could help you," she said quietly.

"I know you do," Rojo answered, turning to face her. "I have only known you a short time, Agasha Kyoko, but you are perhaps the most compassionate woman I have ever met. Kitsuki Hatsu would be dead now if not for you, and perhaps I would be as well. I..." He trailed off, looking into the clouds again.

"Yes?" Kyoko asked taking a hesitant step towards him. "You were going to say something..."

Rojo rubbed his eyes with one hand and smiled ruefully. "I said that I have no regrets. I think now that I was lying, Kyoko."

"Oh," she replied, glancing down at the ground.

"Do you know where we are standing today?" Rojo asked, holding the plum and gesturing at the clouds. "Do you know the legend of this mountain?"

"This was once the training ground of the ise zumi," she replied.

"Do you know its name?" Rojo asked, not turning around.

"I did not think that it had a name," she said.

"It does not," Rojo nodded. "In two thousand years, it has never been given a name. The Dragon have always forbidden such a thing. It simply is. Names harness things, restrict things, confine them. That makes this mountain a place of limitless potential. It could become anything, at any time, but always remains what it is. That is why I have come here, hoping that perhaps some the mountain could show me the way."

"And has it?" Kyoko asked.

Rojo thought about that for a moment. "I do not know," he said. He seated himself cross-legged at the edge of the mountain, smoothing his hakama with one hand as he watched the swirling clouds.

Kyoko sat beside him and said nothing. They simply watched the clouds together for several moments.

"Do you feel it?" Rojo asked, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

"Do I feel what?" she asked, startled.

"In the old days," Rojo replied, "some ise zumi felt a call when they rested at the edge of this mountain, a call to leap into the dance of the elements, to join the potential that swirls around the base of this mountain."

Kyoko looked shocked. "We're over a thousand feet up! No one could survive that."

"Most of them did survive, Kyoko," Rojo said, his eyes meeting hers. "They survived without harm, though they were changed men for the experience. A leap from this mountainside put the legendary Togashi Mitsu on his path. I know you know his story."

"You said most," Kyoko said. "Not all of them survived, or everyone would jump from the mountain." The corner of her mouth turning up in a grin.

Rojo sighed deeply. "No," he shook his head. "Not all of them survived."

"That is why you came here, isn't it?" Kyoko asked, eyes widening in shock. "You were going to throw yourself off the mountainside."

Rojo nodded. "It seemed so simple, two weeks ago."

"Then what happened?" Kyoko asked.

Rojo looked at her, briefly. "Things became complicated."

Kyoko turned to look at him. His face was creased and weathered with worry despite his youth. His dark eyes, usually firm and confident, now flickered with worry. The young Dragon's bare chest and arms were criss-crossed with scars, souvenirs of a lifetime of fighting the secret war against the Hidden Dragon's enemies. Rojo had never had a real life, a normal identity as Kyoko had. He had spent his youth waiting for the call to arms, crawling through sewers and crouching in bell towers with a sword in his hand. The last two weeks were the first vacation he had ever had, and the experience was more alien to him than anything else. His eyes held the look of a caged animal.

Before he came here, Rojo's iron will had prevented the tetsukansen implant from affecting his behavior. Kyoko could see that his will was beginning to break.

"Yes," Agasha Kyoko said, staring into the clouds with a strange expression.

"Yes, what?" Rojo asked.

"I do feel the call," she said. She stood then, took a final look at him, and leapt from the mountainside. Rojo cursed and lunged to the edge, but could only watch her fall.

Kyoko hung in space for an impossible moment, then was swallowed up by the swirling clouds.

"Seven Thunders!" Rojo growled, leaping to his feet.

He hesitated for one moment, and leapt into the maelstrom after her.

Tokei stood at the edge of the docks, watching the water nervously. "This isn't cool," he mumbled to no one in particular. "We shouldn't be hanging out in a big group. We should split up and hide. We might as well put big bulls-eyes on our backs and go looking for the Dojicorp ice cream trucks."

"Feel free," Hiroru said. The ninja was leaning against a post nearby, fully dressed in his bright white costume.

Tokei glanced around the docks, at the handful of Toturi's Army members. They were mostly dressed in tattered jeans, leather jackets, and t-shirts. He looked back at the white ninja. "I'd hate to draw attention to us," he said sarcastically.

Hiroru narrowed his eyes at Tokei. "When I need to be gone, I'll be gone."

"Before or after you scare some harbor cop into calling the police?" Tokei snapped.

"There's no one around," Hiroru returned with a wave of his hand. "Just us. This part of the docks has been abandoned for weeks, remember? Or are you drunk again?"

Tokei curled one hand into a fist. He'd just about had it with this little-

"Both of you, stop it!" shouted a harsh voice. Ginawa stormed up towards the pair of them, an angry look in his eyes. He wore a dark black sweater and his hair was tied back into a ponytail. Some sort of notebook was tucked under his arm, and he looked like he hadn't had much sleep. "Is one of you going to tell me that the other one started it now or are we just going to let it drop?" The old ronin glared at Hiroru, then Tokei.

"He started it," Tokei said, and walked off.

"The old bugger's right," Hiroru said, and moved away in the other direction.

Ginawa sighed and returned to watching the bay. He chewed his lower lip in frustration. "Where the hell are they?" he grumbled under his breath.

"Maybe Tokei is right," Akiyoshi said, stepping up beside Ginawa and sliding one arm around his waist. "We might be better off if we split up. Munashi will be looking for a large group."

"If we split up we're as good as dead," Ginawa replied. "Something big is headed for the city, and we have to be ready. Toturi's Army won't do any good in pieces."

"Something big?" she looked confused, then noticed the notebook. "Oh," she whispered. "Saigo's book."

Ginawa nodded wearily. "I half wish the kid hadn't dropped it on me, but I'm glad he trusted me enough to read it," Ginawa said. "Half of it doesn't make a bit of sense, but the half that does scares the crap out of me." He glanced out at the bay again, then shook his head irritably. "I need to talk to Dairya."

She nodded. "I had a feeling," she said with a small smile. "He's over there." She pointed at the end of the docks. A wheelchair stood at the edge, its occupant staring out into the waters.

"Thanks," Ginawa said. The old ronin leaned close and kissed her on the cheek, then marched off down the dock.

Dairya glanced back as Ginawa approached, smiling broadly. He was still wearing a thick cast and body braces, but his arms were now bare. He had removed his customary eyepatch, revealing a milky white eye.

"Hey, boss," Dairya grinned. "How's it going?"

"What in Jigoku are you doing out here?" Ginawa asked. "You shouldn't be moving."

"What have I got left to be afraid of?" Dairya shrugged. "I haven't seen a sunrise in a while. I figured I might not get another chance. What's up?"

"The usual," Ginawa said, peering out at the water again. "No sign of the Crabs. I don't think Yasu is going to show."

"Don't give up hope," Dairya said. "That's one thing about Crabs. They're always late, but they always show up. If Yasu said he'll be here, he'll be here. Trust me on this. I used to be a Crab. For a little while, anyway."

Ginawa considered this for a moment. "If he doesn't show up-"

"Then we die," Dairya said. "But he'll show up. Yasu and Hayato are the sort of people you can count on. They'll be here."

"Yes, but if they're not," Ginawa stressed. "What about the Scorpion? Can we turn to them?"

"Scorpion?" Dairya asked. "You mean Bayushi Oroki?" "Yes," Ginawa said. "Do you think he would-"

Dairya laughed out loud. "Oroki's a good boy, but altruistic is not a word in his vocabulary. Never ask him for anything. Demand. Insist. Don't ever ask. I asked him for something once, and I'm still paying for it. To answer your question though, no. I don't think Oroki would help us. He has bigger problems right now."

Ginawa frowned.

"The Crab will show up," Dairya chuckled. "He probably stopped to kill an oni."

"Don't laugh, you may be right," Ginawa said. He tossed the tattered notebook in Dairya's lap. "The Phoenix gave me that before we left him at the Palace. It's his collected prophecies."

Dairya glanced down at the book. The cover was inscribed with two words, "KNOW TOMORROW." He leafed through it. The pages were filled margin to margin with scratchy handwriting. There were rough drawings in the margins and sometimes on the text itself. "Saigo," Dairya chuckled. "Good old Saigo. Another old friend of Oroki's. Did he write this stuff before or after he kicked the drugs?"

"Read it," Ginawa said. "Tell me what you think. The Fortunes know I could use some advice." "What's in it?" Dairya asked. "The end of the world?"

Ginawa sighed. "You think you're joking, but that's exactly what's in it."

Dairya met Ginawa's gaze. "What makes you think I was joking? This is exactly what the kolat have been fighting for centuries. The Dark Oracles are in this, aren't they?"

Ginawa shrugged. "There are a few references. 'The twisted elements will rise from Jigoku. Four fall. One rises. The Eye that once watched shall be consumed in the heart of the flaming mountain. The Last Oracle shall wield all the life's blood of the earth.'"

Dairya looked worried. "That's what it says?" he said.

"That's exactly what it says," Ginawa replied. "I have a photographic memory."

Dairya nodded. "I would really like to read this," he said.

"Of course," Ginawa nodded. "Even after what I've learned about you, you're the only one I trust with it."

Dairya nodded, his eyes speaking his thanks for the trust that Ginawa had shown him. He tucked the notebook into the side of his wheelchair, and glanced back just as a breathless young man ran up the docks to meet them.

"Sir!" he shouted to Ginawa, collapsing on the ground and rising to his knees once more. Ginawa stooped to help the boy to his feet.

"What is it?" Ginawa demanded. "What's wrong, Tohaku?"

"Dojicorp vehicles," the boy replied. "The Cranes are searching Little Jigoku, and they're coming this way. They'll be on us in minutes."

"Damn," Ginawa said, glaring out in the direction from which the boy had come. "Rally the others," he said. "Tell them to be ready to fight."

The boy nodded and hurried off. A low vibration suddenly ran through the dock.

"Oh, what in Jigoku is it now?" Ginawa cursed. "Don't tell me the damned dock is collapsing." He turned and quickly seized the handles of Dairya's wheelchair, pulling it away from the edge before he rolled into the sea.

"See?" Dairya said, looking up at Ginawa with a laugh. "I told you?"

"What?" Ginawa shouted. A low rumble shook the docks. "What's going on?"

A dark shadow appeared in the bay, drawing toward them. The water's surface heaved like the earth above an enormous shovel, then suddenly broke to reveal a massive grey submarine emblazoned with the mon of the Crab. The top hatch clanged open and a squad of armored Seekers scrambled along the top deck, preparing boarding ropes. Hiruma Hayato was among them, noticeable for his limp. He waved at the docks.

Dairya waved back. "I told you, Ginawa," he laughed. "They're always late, but they always show."

There were no lights. The monastery seemed little more than a larger piece of the night, silent and menacing. The only visible detail was a great sculpture of an eagle upon the doors, screeching down at the unwelcome visitors. Shiba Mojo looked at it doubtfully, breathing heavily from his climb up the rough-hewn stone stairs. Moto Teika shuffled up behind him, no less exhausted for all the power of the Void that coursed through his veins.

The doors of Eagle's Claw were closed.

"Well, what do we do now?" Mojo asked. "Do we knock?"

"No," Teika said, still breathing raggedly. "We wait."

"Wait?" Mojo asked. "After coming all this way? After climbing this damned mountain? What if they never answer?"

"That, in itself, is an answer, is it not?" Teika replied.

"All right, I'm sick of this," Mojo snapped. "I'm not waiting all night for an answer when you won't even tell me the question." He strode forward and rose his hand to knock, but then stopped.

A small man with a shaven head had appeared from nowhere, holding a bo stick inches from Mojo's throat. The monk's eyes were emotionless, his face grim. The image of a soaring eagle was branded upon his bare chest.

"I'm not in the mood," Mojo said flatly, meeting the monk's gaze. "If you hit me with that stick, I'm going to shoot you." His hand moved toward the void pistol holstered on his belt.

The monk shrugged. Mojo felt two more staves prod him in the back. He stopped his hand. One of them took his pistol.

"We have not come for violence," Teika said. Mojo turned his head to see two monks standing at his back, three more holding staves at the Oracle. "I am Moto Teika, Oracle of the Void. This is Shiba Mojo. We have come seeking the wisdom of Washi Takao."

The monks did not move. They seemed unimpressed. They were waiting for more.

"We know that you are the protectors of that which lies in darkness," Teika said.

The monks did not move.

"We know that you are also enemies of the darkness which poises to consume Rokugan," Teika added.

The monks did not move.

Teika sighed. "All right," he said. "Fine. We know that Washi Takao is a Kolat Master, and we'll never defeat the Dark Oracles without his assistance."

The monks stepped aside and opened the doors of the monastery wide.

Mojo looked at Teika, eyes wide. "What are you talking about?" he asked quickly. "Kolat? The guys that tried to destroy the Empire a few centuries back? What in Jigoku are you getting us into, Teika?"

"Follow me," Teika said, stepping forward into Eagle's Claw. "You'll understand soon enough."

Mojo paused for a moment. The monks prodded him with their sticks. "I'd damn well better understand," he grumbled under his breath, stepping forward into the monastery.

The hum of the engines was deafening, but rhythmic. Despite the volume, it was enough to put you to sleep, once you got used to it. The trick was getting used to it. Athmose had never allowed himself to become accustomed to the sound, even after decades of battling the enemies of the Senpet. Sleep was a reward he reserved for a battle well fought, for an enemy defeated. It was the only reward of the warrior that was truly lasting.

Athmose had not slept well in over a month, since the City of Stories had been reduced to radioactive ash.

The landscape screamed by beneath the wings of Thoth. The rolling dunes of the desert were replaced by the lush green plains and craggy steppes of the Unicorn. He had passed into the Diamond Empire, the land of his enemies. He paid little mind. Thoth had been designed to pass through early warning and detection systems. The ship made little external noise. The outer hull had been enhanced by a spell cast by the immortal Jinn of the Floating Cloud, causing it to appear to casual observers as nothing more than a bit of the sky. No one would know of his approach until he had reached Otosan Uchi.

Commander Athmose was not going to Otosan Uchi, not right away.

He turned to the pilot and barked a short command in his native Senpet. The pilot nodded and quickly complied. The massive ship banked, altering its course and turning to the south. This was not part of their orders. This was not part of the briefing. The pilot did not hesitate. The crew of Thoth were all Senpet, expatriates that had followed Athmose to Amijdal after the Senpet Invasion. They had no loyalty to the Amijdal outside of that ordered by their Commander. Now he was commanding them to turn south, so they did.

The steppes soon gave way to lush forest. Athmose had never seen such a forest. It was larger than any in his native land, where water was scarce. Only the ribbon of jungle on either side of the great river compared to Rokugan's Shinomen. As beautiful as it was, the mysterious ancient home of the Naga also passed beneath them. The sky darkened in the east despite the rising sun, blackened by the foul pollution of the City of Lies. At the forest's edge stood another city, smaller than Ryoko Owari. Thoth banked once more and turned. The massive war ship settled in a field near the smaller city, the rendezvous point which had been agreed upon earlier.

Athmose strapped a pistol belt around his waist and shrugged on an armored vest. As he reached for a helmet from the rack in the rear of the cockpit, the pilot turned with a curious expression.

"Commander?" he said. "Are you sure this is safe?"

"Do you feel I would have led you here had it been otherwise?" the Commander said simply.

"No, sir," the pilot replied with confidence. "But I can't help but feel wrong about this. The Rokugani cannot be trusted."

"The Emperor cannot be trusted," Athmose corrected. The pilot had not been a part of Athmose's crew during the Invasion. "Have I told you of my flight from Otosan Uchi, after the Kyuden appeared over the Diamond Palace?"

"No, sir," the pilot replied. "I was in Captain Aktan's ship."

Athmose nodded. "As we made our escape, a strange thing happened. Nothing stood in our path for long, not Shinjo troopers, not Crab hovercraft or Scorpion helicopters. The only thing that gave us pause was a single old man."

"An old man, sir?" the pilot looked confused.

"Indeed," Athmose said. "He was nothing, what the Rokugani might call a ronin, alone and unarmed. Even yet, he stood against us, and demanded that we call off our mission."

The pilot frowned. "We did not begin this war," he said. "It was the Emperor-"

"That was exactly my point," Athmose answered. "The ronin argued that it was not his war, either. That countless innocents had been lost already. What good purpose would it serve to punish more? The sincerity of the words wounded me. I realized the damage I had caused during our ill-planned invasion. How many orphans did I create? How many widows? That was why I did not return to the Pharaoh, and begged Aktan and the others to do the same. I would have no more mindless vengeance, not against innocents. When the new Emperor rose, I was willing to bide my time and see if he would follow in the footsteps of his father. He has, and now our course is clear. We shall have vengeance, yes, but that vengeance will fall only upon those who deserve it. Our mission is to destroy the Emperor of Rokugan, not the Empire. Our murdered loved ones shall rest at peace knowing that what we have done is just. Remember that."

"Sir," the pilot pressed. He paused for a moment, as if considering how to phrase his question without sounding disloyal.

"You wish to know what we are doing here, so far from Otosan Uchi?" Athmose replied.

The pilot nodded.

"Good," Athmose answered. "You should be worried. Only surprise will win us the day in Otosan Uchi and I realize that to stop here is to risk our advantage. My hope is that the risk will be well worth it. Scramble the crew and have them meet me in the aft deck compartment."

The pilot quickly did as he had been commanded. Athmose finished suiting up and exited the cockpit. By the time the Commander reached the aft compartment, his crew were waiting. Even the pilot was only a step behind. They showed nothing but loyalty and earnest devotion, but Athmose knew that they had their doubts. Senpet soldiers were trained to present a solid front to the opposition no matter what how they felt. Athmose could sense their confusion, and he would have none of it. They would all accompany him to this meeting. They would all know the outcome. There would be no secrets.

Athmose pulled a mechanical release and the aft crew doors opened with a hiss. A mechanical ramp extended to the dark black asphalt of the landing field. Athmose barked a short command and the men fell in behind him in two columns. Two dozen Senpet soldiers marched forth onto the fields of Rokugan.

Three men waited at the base of the ramp.

"Welcome to Rokugan," said the taller of the two men, a stocky bushi wearing a blood red suit and a pale white mask. "I wish it could be under better circumstances, Commander, but I am pleased that you received my invitation. Allow me to introduce Hachi Goro, a representative of the Bee Clan. We stand in their territory now, at the allowance of his daimyo. She requested his presence at this meeting in return for her patience." The small man beside Dairyu glared up at Athmose, his hatred obvious. Athmose ignored him.

"I do not have time, Bayushi Dairyu," Athmose said, his Rokugani as fluid as the Scorpion's. "You have ten minutes to speak your piece."

"I require only two," the Scorpion replied with a small bow.

"Speak," the Senpet replied.

The Scorpion inclined his head in acknowledgment. "As you know, our history was devoured by the Shadowlands one century ago," Dairyu said. "It was a grievous loss, but our strong sense of tradition and the assistance of nations such as your own have allowed us to piece together some small fraction of what we have lost. Still, there is much we Rokugani do not know about ourselves. Ten years ago, I stumbled over one such memory, one better left forgotten."

"Obviously that lost secret was not the Rokugani sense of melodrama," Athmose said without humor.

Dairyu chuckled. "I discovered an oni, a demon of Jigoku, the very sort creature that the Dragon Clan sacrificed themselves to seal away at the end of the Shadow Wars. The bonds between the mortal realm and Jigoku are coming undone. The demons of our hell stand ready to invade."

"A pity," Athmose said. "We enslaved our demons. Our hell troubles us no more."

Dairyu shook his head slightly. "Perhaps, but the denizens of Jigoku are not like the jinn. They will not offer themselves meekly into servitude, not without a price. My point is this - the Emperor does not act of his own accord. There is a man controlling him, a sinister man who wields the power of Jigoku. His position puts him in command of two of the mightiest clans in Rokugan, the Crane and Phoenix, and now I suspect he controls the Emperor as well. Strike down the Emperor if you must, perhaps death is the only remaining cure for his enslavement, but know that you have not won your war. The beast responsible for the death of Medinaat-al-Salaam is still out there, and his name is Asahina Munashi."

"If you know of this man, expose him," Athmose sneered. "If the Great Clans knew that a madman was controlling the throne, they would not stand for it any more than my own people would."

"It is not so easy," Dairyu said. "Ten years ago, I died to the world at large. I disguised myself as a magistrate for a while, but I fear that disguise will no longer suffice. I have lived so long in a cloak of lies, I fear the Empire will not believe me. Munashi has surely realized that Heichi Tetsugi was only a shadow. I can find allies here and there, as is the case with the Bee, but the going is slow. We do not have much time. I beg you, call off your assault on the Palace until I can deal with Munashi."

"Can you deal with him?" Athmose asked bluntly. "Are you certain that you can kill this Crane and end all of this?"

Dairyu was silent for a moment. "To be honest, no," he said. "Munashi is extremely powerful. However, there is a chance."

"Gamble on your chances, I shall gamble on my own," Athmose said. "This conversation is over. If you have any friends in the Diamond Palace, tell them to leave."

The Senpet turned and marched back up the ramp. His soldiers followed. Dairyu and Goro moved back as Thoth's engines roared to life. The huge vehicle moved upward with impossible speed and grace, and soon vanished to their eyes. Dairyu's long kimono of red velvet and black silk flapped in the wake of its departure, but his mask showed nothing.

Goro's feelings were slightly more obvious. He scowled and paced as he peered up at Dairyu, as if working up the nerve to ask something, but wondering if it was the trouble.

"You believe I should have killed him," the Scorpion said, turning to the Bee.

"Seven Thunders, yes!" the Bee shouted. "He's going to kill the Emperor!"

"The Emperor may be better off dead," Dairyu said. "We can only save the Empire, now. Commander Athmose is not a threat to the Empire. If he was, I would have given you permission to unleash your venom." Dozens of diminutive Bee bushi began to emerge from the tall grass surrounding the field, all heavily armed and perfectly camouflaged.

"What do we do now?" Goro asked, looking up at the sky though the Thoth was no longer visible.

"We return to Otosan Uchi," Dairyu said. "As quickly as we left. Soshi Isawa awaits us at your Daimyo's Palace."

The Bee sighed. The memory of their breakneck journey to the Bee lands was not a fond one. "You sure, Dairyu-sama?" he asked. "Knowing what's about to break loose there, do you really want to head back into the heart of it?"

Bayushi Dairyu smiled behind his mask. "Would you rather be anywhere else?"

"Hee hee hee." A child's laughter echoed through the darkened building. A dull crunch and some tormented animal's squeal followed.

"Hee hee," the sound repeated, but with more grinding.

"Pekkle," Munashi called out patiently from the window. "Stop playing with the rats. I am trying to think."

The little oni's pale face shone in the darkness. It frowned, disappointed at its master's rebuke. The little creature sat down on the dusty floor, folding its arms in a huff.

"Ah, now don't pout," Munashi commanded. "And don't sit on the floor. You'll get your nice kimono all dirty. Why don't you go outside and find some neighborhood children to play with?"

The oni looked up, happiness shining in its eyes. It ran off into the darkness. Munashi knew that the Pekkle was going to cause trouble, but that was all academic. No one would notice a few more corpses, not during what would soon happen. An electronic chirping noise sounded from the sleeve of his robe. The old shugenja drew out a small cellular phone and held it carefully to his ear.

"Report, Suro," he said.

"The diner is empty," he said. "Completely cleaned out. We're searching the neighborhood now and questioning the neighbors. Wherever Toturi's Army has gone, they won't get far. The Lions at Golden Sun seemed ready for our arrival and blockaded the entrances, but they've been contained. There hasn't been any conflict thus far."

"Upsetting," Munashi replied. "What of the Kyuden? Has Mizu anything to report?"

"Our scouts saw some fires from the direction of the Kyuden some time ago, but Mizu has reported nothing in hours," Suro replied.

"Mizu is dead," Munashi said, a tight sneer creasing his features. "Damn those Crabs. The Kyuden is far too powerful to be running around loose, especially now. This is very, very, very bad news, Suro. I am not pleased."

"I know you would accept no excuses, so I offer none, sir," Suro replied. "Though it was not my fault."

"Whatever," Munashi mumbled grimly. "And what of the Dragons? I suppose they slipped our grasp as well?"

"Their last major safe-house in the city has been destroyed," Suro replied. "Our sweep team confirmed forty-three Dragon casualties. Twenty bushi, three shugenja, and ten of those tattooed men, and assorted accomplices. Our own casualties were light. Only one small group of Dragons was seen escaping."

"And the Dragon Thunder?" Munashi asked quickly.

"Unconfirmed," Suro replied.

"Munashi smiled slowly. "What of the Phoenix?"

"Sumi is being shipped directly to Dojicorp as we speak," Suro replied. "To return to the earlier matter, sir, we discovered the Dragon sweep team listed the Unicorn Thunder among the confirmed kills."

Munashi was quiet for a long moment. "Are you certain? You have the body?"

"Parts of it," Suro said after a brief pause. "Enough to know that Otaku Sachiko is dead."

"Suro, all is forgiven!" Munashi exclaimed with a rare smile. "You just made my day." He folded up the small phone and returned it to his sleeve. He felt a great weight lift from his shoulders, a great warmth rising in his chest. The Crane stood at the window and rose his arms to meet the rising sun, laughing as he had not laughed in ages.

It was over.

"Seven Thunders," he called out to the street. "Not six! Six just won't do!" He made a little song of it and danced about the top floor of the abandoned building, clapping to himself. He felt like a small child, happy and free. He only stopped when he noticed the startled expressions of the two Daidoji bodyguards that stood by the door. ""What?" he said. "Is it not in my right to be happy?"

"Of course, sir," said one.

"Yes, sir," added the other.

"Right, then," he said, composing himself and straightening his robes. He glanced around the building. Really, there was no need to go on with the plan. With one Thunder dead and another just as well as, the Day of Thunder had already been decided. There was no need to destroy the city anymore.

But he probably would anyway. By Jigoku, Asahina Munashi had earned himself the right to some carnage.

Kaz strolled into the office, whistling, dragging the dolly along behind him. Its wheels clicked unevenly on the floor, adding an odd rhythm to his song. Fumi, the only attendant in the Shinjo Tower morgue this time of night, glanced up from her novel and removed her glasses with a smile. She had quite a thing for Kaz and looked forward to the times he dropped by. Of course, he only dropped by when one of the prisoners died, and it was a pretty grim, in the end, to wish for someone to die in prison so that you could flirt with a handsome truck driver. Fumi didn't think about that. She had gotten used to the grim and depressing mess that was her life some time ago. She rose and walked over to say hello.

"Hey, there, Fumi," Kaz said with a smile. "Got another one, eh?"

"Yeah," she said. "Some holdover from the Senpet invasion. Stabbed himself to death in his cell. No friends, no family in the Empire, nobody that wants to pay to have him shipped home. Anonymous burial in the city plots."

"Man, that's gotta suck," Kaz said thoughtfully. "I sure would hate to die in a place where nobody cares who I am."

"Well, that wouldn't happen to you, Kaz," she grinned. "You're not a Senpet terrorist."

Kaz tried to look mysterious. "You don't know me," he said, then broke into a laugh. "Okay, enough of that. Where is this guy?"

"This way," she gestured and strode off down the hall. Kaz followed her, watching her hips sway as she walked and trying to keep his mind on his work. "I wouldn't feel too bad for this guy, if I were you, Kaz," she said, grinning over her shoulder. "He was a real bastard. He was one of the guys that sent all those ghuls into Shinjo Tower during the invasion."

Kaz frowned. "He's a tsukai?" he asked. "Are you sure this is okay, then? What if he, like, comes back to life or something?"

"Oh, don't be silly," she laughed. "The Iuchi checked him out. They don't see any signs of Taint on him. It's almost the twenty-first century, Kaz. People stay dead these days." She pushed open the doors of one of the storage rooms and reached for the lights.

"That's funny," she said. "The lights aren't working."

Two burning embers appeared in the darkness, close to one another, like eyes. A thick chuckle rolled through the room. "Silly girl," said a sharply accented voice. "You children these days would do well to hold on to your superstitions. In this case, they might have saved your lives." A long-fingered hand with sharpened fingernails reached out of the shadows, grasping for Fumi.

"Fumi, run!" Kaz said, jumping in front of her. Fumi turned to run.

The eyes shook back and forth. The hand clasped into a fist. Six shadowy figures suddenly lurched out of the darkness, grabbing their Fumi and Kaz, dragging them to the ground. Horrible, wet, tearing sounds filled the storage room, followed by the smack of loud chewing. Their screams endured for several minutes, until, finally, there was nothing but the moan of creatures neither living or dead.

When the figures rose once more, there were eight.

"Mine," Omar Massad said, and his laughter filled the darkness.

Fifteen Hundred Years Ago...

The name would be strong enough. It had to be.

Iuchiban may have a new name, but he never discarded his old one, not really. He was still a Hantei. He still carried the blood of the Emperor.

Now he would offer that blood to Jigoku.

In the dark basements beneath the temple, Iuchiban's voice rose above the rest. They sang their ritual chants to the dark powers of Jigoku. Above, they could hear the clash of steel and the shout of battle. The Lions had overcome their fear of the shambling dead and were now storming the temple with fury. Iuchiban smiled. In the end, none of it would matter. Their fear had kept them in check for quite long enough. By the time they found his hiding place, there would be no chance to stop him.

He needed only a few more moments to finish the ritual, to bring that which waited into the Forbidden City of Otosan Uchi. The courtiers who once mocked Iuchiban would no longer smile when their beautiful city became like unto a Festering Pit. Even his brother would be afraid. He spoke the final few words, offering his name to the dark powers.

There was no answer.

Iuchiban felt fear creep up in his chest. He saw confusion spread through the eyes of his chosen. In that instant, he realized what had happened. His true plan had been undermined. His brother had learned of his deeds and stricken him from the family. The name he would offer Jigoku was no longer good enough. The plan had been unraveled.

"What do we do now, master?" asked one of his acolytes, shivering in fear at the approaching sound of Lion steel.

"We flee," Iuchiban said without hesitation. "I have planned for this eventuality. There shall be another day." He reached for an unseen panel on the bare stone wall. He pulled the concealed lever and triggered a hidden door, opening a tunnel that led deep into the earth.

From the darkness of the tunnel, appeared a Scorpion. The mon of an Imperial Magistrate blazed upon his chest.

"What in the name of?" Iuchiban cursed.

The Scorpion did not allow the dark sorceror another word. The power of the kami filled the halls, and Iuchiban's body was shattered by the purity of the Scorpion's magic.

As the battle drew to its grisly end, no one noticed one tiny figure escaping unseen. One, tiny, child-like figure who giggled to itself as it ran.

Kamiko groaned and tried to open her eyes. She felt a scrape as the lids reluctantly slid across her eyes. She felt dry, dehydrated. Her vision was blurry. She could hardly make out the room around her. She could feel tight cloth cuffs digging into her wrists, pulled tight behind her back and tied to her ankles. She seemed to be wearing some sort of straitjacket, binding her limbs and preventing all movement. The room was small and dark. She could see nothing save a sliver of light near the floor, a crack in the door to her cell.

"How long have I been here?" she wondered out loud. Her throat was so dry and raw that her voice would not come at first. She struggled into a sitting position and squinted, trying to force her eyes to become adjusted to the low light. She could see nothing.

She felt a panic rise up in her chest. She had failed. The Daidoji, the soldiers who had been brave enough to follow her since her father's coup, were dead. She had led them to their deaths, just as her father had at the Diamond Palace. She had accomplished nothing. The fact that she was still alive suggested that she was being used as a hostage.

What would Munashi make Kameru do to see her safe?

What would Kameru do to save her?

Kamiko fought back the fear. She couldn't let herself be consumed with despair. There would be plenty of time for that later. Now, she needed to figure out a way out of here.

Nothing came to mind.

"Come on, think!" she whispered to herself. "This isn't Shinjo Tower, it's the Fantastic Gardens. There has to be some way out of here." She leaned back against the wall, trying to feel the floor through the sleeves of her straitjacket. She searched for any piece of debris, anything that she might use to cut herself free...

Footsteps.

Kamiko righted herself into a kneeling position, the best she could manage in her bonds. It wasn't dignified, but it was better than lying on the floor. The footsteps drew nearer and something turned inside the heavy metal lock. The door opened with a groan and the cell filled with light. A large, shadowy figure stood in the doorway.

Kamiko winced at the brightness as she tried to make out her visitor. A moment later, the glare resolved around a tall, thick man with shortly cropped white hair and a blunt, squared chin.

"Eien," she hissed.

Daidoji Eien nodded. He remained standing there, watching her.

"What do you want?" Kamiko demanded. "Did you come back to finish me off, too?"

Eien's jaw worked soundlessly. He glanced at the ground, then looked up at her again. "I... I don't know," he said. "I don't know why I am here."

Kamiko simply watched him for a moment. He seemed confused, uncertain. "Why did you do it, Eien?" she asked. "Why did you kill them? Chiyo. Hisae. Iku. They all followed you, once. They would have marched into Jigoku if you commanded it. I guess in the end, that's what happened, isn't it?"

Eien was quiet. He frowned, and could not meet her gaze. He leaned against the iron door with one hand, as if he was suddenly unable to stand on his own. "Kamiko..." he said. "I cannot... I cannot free you."

She sneered. "Is that what you came here to tell me?" she said. "Is that all?"

"No," he said, shaking his head quickly. "I know that you will not understand. Munashi did... something... to me. I serve him now. I can do nothing else. He is my master. I did not wish to destroy the Daidoji, but he commanded it, as he now commands me to guard you in your confinement."

"Did he command you to come here now?" she asked. "Did he command you to finish me?"

"No," he said. "I came here of my own will. I came... I came to beg for your forgiveness. I know that it is much to ask..."

Kamiko looked up at him. "No," she said. "You'll get no sympathy from me, and no forgiveness."

Eien met her gaze. His grey eyes narrowed slightly.

"Well, then," Kamiko said, her voice growing angry and heated. "If you're angry about it, kill me. Get it over with. Stop screwing around and do it. I'm not going to play mind games with Munashi and I'm not going to play them with you. What's wrong, Eien? Too much of a coward to kill your true daimyo, or did the blood of your brothers and sisters rust your blade?"

"I just..." Eien shook his head helplessly. "I... just hoped to find forgiveness."

"Earn it," Kamiko retorted.

Eien met her gaze again. Something silent passed between them. Without another word, he nodded, closed the door, locked it, and went away.

Kamiko immediately crawled across the cell to the opposite corner. While the door had been open, she had noticed a rusty nail out of the corner of her eye. She clutched it between her fingers and the thick fabric, and began slowly sawing away at her sleeve.

Rojo stepped forward into a darkened cave. He was not certain how he came to be here, but he sensed that he was a long way from the mountain. Wherever it was, he felt uncomfortably hot, and it seemed to be getting hotter by the second. Was this Jigoku? Had he died after his fall from the cliff? He peered about carefully, sensing that he was not alone.

"Kyoko?" he called out. "Are you there?"

There was no answer, but the shadows seemed to flicker. Rojo stepped forward with a scowl, wishing that he had brought a weapon along. No, that wouldn't have worked. If he had taken the time to fetch a sword, he wouldn't have been foolish enough to leap off the mountain. No, he had no weapon to rely upon but himself.

"Kyoko," he said again. "I am here. Can you hear me?"

A cloaked figure with a wide-brimmed straw hat stepped out of the shadows, carrying a shrouded figure in its arms. It paused before Rojo, its face covered.

"Kyoko?" he said.

"She is here," the stranger said in a voice neither male nor female. "But she is not well. This place seethes with the anger of the Fire Dragon. Radiation. Soon, you will fall to it as well." It pulled the cloak away from the figure it carried, and Rojo saw Kyoko's face. She looked alive, but feverish.

"What are you talking about?" Rojo demanded. "Where are we? What is this place? Who are you?"

"This is our Mountain," she replied. "Everyone in the family had one, and all are connected. This one is ear what was once Medinaat-al-Salaam. I am Shosuro."

"Shosuro who?" Rojo said, advancing toward the stranger. "What is your name?"

The stranger peered up at him, revealing a face as smooth as an eggshell. "Only Shosuro," it repeated. "Come with me, we have much to do."

Rojo stared in shock as the creature turned and walked away. His training told him that this was a thing of the Shadow, a person stripped of their individuality by the Lying Darkness, but the Lying Darkness had been destroyed, and this one did not seem to be the sort of spawn he had read about. There were no more such creatures.

Then again, Rojo realized, the world thought much the same thing of the Dragon Clan.

He wiped the sweat from his brow and followed Shosuro, watching the creature with a wary eye.

They soon arrived in a much larger chamber. A great stone throne dominated the room, poised before a great pool of murky grey water. A large man in voluminous robes of red and black sat upon the throne, his face masked by a thick white beard. He glanced up from something he held in one hand and watched Shosuro and Rojo as they entered, his fathomless black eyes piercing through them.

"So you are the one that has been called," the man said. "You are Mirumoto Rojo. And I see you have brought a friend."

"She arrived first, my lord," Shosuro explained, her voice slightly confused as she offered the unconscious Kyoko. "I am not sure why the mountain allowed-"

The Old Man held up a single finger, a smile tugging the corner of his mouth. "Shosuro, after all these years, you should have learned better than to ask 'why' when it comes to my good brother. After all this time, his children are the only ones that still surprise me."

"Of course, my lord," Shosuro answered with a quick bow. "Where should I take her?"

The Old Man simply sat for a long time, watching the three of them while he considered their question. "Lord Hoshi called only one," he said at last. The object in his hand glimmered. "I am not quite certain what to do with two."

"What are we doing here?" Rojo demanded in an angry voice, stepping forward to the edge of the pool. He was beginning to feel woozy from the odd heat within the mountain. "Who are you and what do you want from us?"

"You could call me your uncle," the Old Man said. He gestured at the pool, and the murkiness cleared away. The clouds parted to reveal the body of a man laying at the bottom of the waters. His skin swirled with tattoos, and his face was lined with ancient worries.

"Lord Hoshi," Rojo breathed, recognizing him at once. He glanced up at the Old Man. "You've killed him."

The Old Man shook his head. "I am not the brother who kills his kin," he sneered in disdain. "That one met his destiny a thousand years ago. I am the one the others turn to when they have no recourse. I am the keeper of secrets. The master of the last escape. The lord of masks. I have a thousand other cliche' titles at least as trite as those, but then they wouldn't have been cliche' if I hadn't been there create them. Do you know who I am, Mirumoto?"

Rojo frowned. "You are Bayushi," he said. "You are the father of the Scorpion."

"And Lord Hoshi is all that remains of my favorite brother," the Old Man said. "He was mortally injured by the Dark Oracle of the Void. As the Dark Oracle was once one of my clan, I feel somehow responsible. He begged me to save his life. I think that I can do so. Are you willing to help me, Mirumoto?"

"Yes," Rojo said immediately.

The Old Man looked surprised. "Are you so certain?" he asked. "You know what he has done to you? You are aware that the implant which festers within your skull was his doing? You know that it has been his failures that have defeated the Hidden Dragon?"

Rojo nodded. "The Dragon Clan stand closest to destiny. When it draws near, we are the first to feel its wrath. I know that, now. I am prepared to serve my lord if he needs me. We are not defeated as long as one of us still lives."

The Old Man smiled. "You will do fine," he said. He cupped one hand and held it forth, displaying a twinkling piece of crystal.

"Wait," Rojo said quickly. "What about Kyoko? What shall happen to her?"

The Old Man shrugged. "She will die. It happens to all mortals."

Rojo shook his head. "No," he said. "Whatever gift you were prepared to give to me, give to her instead. She's more worthy of it than I am."

The Old Man rose one eyebrow. "Are you sure?" he said. "You would die for this girl? Is she worth it? Is any mortal?"

"Was I?" Shosuro said, interrupting the silence.

The Old Man's eyes flickered from Shosuro to Rojo.

"She would have died for me," Rojo replied.

The Old Man considered this for a moment. "Of course," he sighed. "I shall see what I can manage, but it shall be difficult." He rose the stone once more. The glimmering light began to increase.

"What is that stone?" Rojo asked. His eyes began to burn as he stared into it.

"A great legacy," he said. "Now a great burden. A living piece of the magic that is the earth. A shred of infinite possibility, with certain finite limitations. Now be silent, and perhaps all three of you might yet live..."

The light began to increase. The Old Man began to sing, a low song that rose in pitch until it no longer could be contained by a mortal voice. The form of the old man shimmered and Rojo saw something beneath the facade, something brilliant and ancient, impossibly ancient, yet still innocent even with all the secrets it held. Rojo felt a dull throbbing within his head, a steady ache. His skin began to itch as dark forms stretched across the surface, resolving themselves into shapes. He could feel the tetsukansen writhe about, as if caught in the grip of the stone's light and pained by it. Before he was finally blinded by the glare, he saw something begin to rise from the pool, the dark silhouette of an enormous suit of armor.

Beside it rose a pair of mighty swords.

Shiba Mojo and Moto Teika were led through the halls of the Eagle's Claw by a pair of grim monks. Mojo felt increasingly nervous the further they proceeded. The doors on either side were heavy wood, solidly padlocked. Behind a few, he could hear things scratching at the walls as they clawed for freedom. The floors were rugged and uneven, as if something far below was forcing the stones from their rest. Bare light bulbs hung from the ceiling, swaying back and forth on their chains, though there was no breeze.

Mojo wished that the guides hadn't taken away his gun.

"So," he said in a clear voice so that their guides could hear them. "Is this where they do it?"

Teika snapped out of his reveries, turning to face Mojo with a startled glance. "Do what?"

"Where they take people," Mojo said. "Where the kolat take people to brainwash them and insert them into their cause. That's what they do in the old stories. You go to bed one night, the kolat drag you away, and the next morning you're one of them. Is this where they do that?"

The two monks glanced over their shoulders, eyes narrowing in anger.

"Careful, Mojo," Teika said with a curt laugh. "Just because they don't speak doesn't mean that they can't hear."

"I know," Mojo said. "I don't care. I want them to know where I stand. If they're going to kill me, then so be it. I'm sure as Jigoku not going to let them throw me in one of those little rooms and brainwash me."

"Mojo, you're confused," Teika said. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh?" he replied, "Then maybe you'd like to explain it. I appreciate your saving my life, Teika, but if this was your plan then I prefer the swamp. Lady Sumi is out there somewhere and I should be protecting her, not playing in the shadows with kolat."

The two guides stopped, turning to face Mojo. Mojo smiled and gave them the finger. One of the monks shook his head ruefully, and darted toward Mojo with incredible speed. The yojimbo took a step back, grabbed Moto Teika's collar, and threw him in his attacker's path. The monk clubbed the Oracle of the Void solidly across the jaw with his bo and froze, a look of horror on his face.

With that, Mojo pushed the stumbling Teika aside and delivered a swift chop to the monk's throat. The other monk lunged forward, furious, but stopped short with a loud grunt as Mojo shoved his companion's staff into his midsection. The first monk dropped to his knees, and Mojo drove his own knee into his face, knocking him unconscious. The second monk recovered his senses and held his staff ready again. A perfectly circular piece of the wall over his left shoulder ceased to exist with the hum of tetsukami.

"Don't do it," Mojo said, pointing his reclaimed void pistol at the monk. "I'm not quite happy with the way I've been treated. Only common courtesy is keeping me from disintegrating your worthless kolat ass."

Teika crawled to his hands and knees, a look of horror on his face. "Mojo, what are you doing?"

"Shut up," Mojo replied. "Get up, and get over there with him. And don't say a word. If I think you're trying to work up some Void magic, then we'll find out real quick whose Void is stronger. Get it?" He waved the gun at the Oracle.

"You d-" Teika started.

"SHUT UP!" Mojo commanded jamming the gun into Teika's ear. "Now get over there!"

The Oracle quietly rose and moved to stand beside the other monk.

"Okay," Mojo said, taking a breath and surveying his two captives. "Vow of silence on the left, words become reality on the right. I guess I can't really question either of you. Take me to Takao."

The monk shook his head. Teika just looked humiliated.

"Excuse me?" Mojo asked, a note of panic entering his voice. "Listen, baldy, I've had a rough week. I'm in no mood-"

"He cannot take you to find me," a deep voice filled the halls. "I am already here."

A muscular bald man suddenly stepped into sight at the end of the hall. A great screeching eagle was branded onto his chest. His eyes glowed a dim white in the shadows of the monastery. He held his hands out to his sides, displaying no weapon.

"I am Washi Takao," the man said. "I am the Master of the Eagle's Claw. Put down your weapon or face the consequences."

"Vow of silence, eh?" Mojo said, pointing the pistol at the man.

"There is a time for silence," the monk replied. "And a time for action." He swung one arm forward in a swift chop. A blur passed through the air between the two men, like the haze of heat on a hot road. Mojo's pistol shuddered and burst into pieces.

"Thunders!" Mojo cursed, snapping his hands away from the splintering metal fragments.

The remaining guide lunged toward Mojo with his staff. "No," Takao commanded. "Leave him be. He has proven his worth, if not his self-control." The monk nodded, immediately kneeling to help his unconscious comrade.

"You have defeated two of my finest sohei and an Oracle of Light, Shiba," Takao said, folding his arms across the eagle brand. "Not many in Rokugan could claim as much. I would have words with you."

"Wait," Mojo said. "I want to ask you one question, first. Just to satisfy my curiosity. Are you really a kolat, like in the legends?"

Takao considered that question for a moment.

"Yes, I am a kolat," he said.

"No, I am not like the legends," he added.

"Follow me, and judge for yourself" he finished.

Takao walked off down the hallway. Moto Teika gave Mojo an angry look, then followed the master of the Eagle's Claw.

"I swear all I want is one straight answer," Mojo grumbled under his breath. "Just one, and I'll be happy."

The darkened warehouse had been unoccupied for some time. Several large vehicles hid beneath dust covered shrouds and walls of corroded tools decorated the walls. In a city as big as Otosan Uchi, such a place could go undisturbed forever. Even the thieves found some place else to go.

With the wrenching scream of tired metal, the rusted iron loading doors opened. A dark figure stepped inside, trenchcoat flapping in the breeze as he surveyed his surroundings.

"Sekkou-sama?" came a voice from outside.

"It's clear," the man said tersely. "Dump him over there, Kaibutsu."

"Yes'm," Kaibutsu answered. The ogre stumbled in, dragging something large and shiny that scraped the cement. With a grunt and a massive heave, he tossed the Akodo War Machine into the corner of the warehouse with a clank. The golden robot struggled to its feet, wobbled, and fell on its face. Kaibutsu shrugged and closed the doors, returning the warehouse to darkness.

Inside the armor, Akodo Daniri groaned. "What in Jigoku do you people want?"

The lights flickered and came on with a hum. Sekkou crossed the warehouse to stand before the War Machine, arms folded. He held a slender black wand in one hand. "I want to talk to you, Akodo Daniri. Now come out of that armor so we can face each other like men. I wouldn't want to make Kaibutsu tear that thing apart so we can find you. As much as I despise your show, it would be a shame to wreck such a beautiful machine."

The War Machine staggered to its feet once more, a low growl rumbling inside. The clawed fingers clenched as it loomed eight feet above the tiny Locust. Its eyes gleamed golden in the dim warehouse. Sekkou peered up at it from behind his helmet, unconcerned. "You want to make me come out of Akodo," Daniri snarled, "You make me, Locust."

"If you insist," Sekkou replied. He pointed the wand at Akodo and a dull buzz echoed through the building. Akodo froze for a moment, then went toppled backwards with sparks exploding from its joints. Daniri groaned. Akodo's eyes went dark.

"Sorry, Daniri," Sekkou said, walking up and resting one boot on Akodo's right arm. "You probably figured that my pulses didn't work on you because of that whole Locust Riot. Pestilence wasn't a real electromagnetic pulse, just one of Isek's stupid tetsukami tricks combined with Inago's magic. The Kingfisher," he displayed the wand so that Daniri could see, "is the real thing. With the higher functions of the War Machine shut down, you should have about four minutes of air left inside that suit, assuming of course that the cockpit hasn't filled with exhaust. Now come out of there. I've got better uses for you than watching you die."

"You asked for it," Daniri said. The chest plate of Akodo separated with a hiss, and Akodo Daniri climbed out. His face was bruised and one arm was bloody from his fight with the Dark Oracle. He took a fighting stance and glared down at the Locust. "Come on, Sekkou," he said, gesturing with one hand.

Sekkou cocked his head slightly, then stepped back. Kaibutsu stepped from the shadows in front of his partner, muscles rippling as he cracked his knuckles. The ogre's tiny eyes regarded Daniri cautiously.

"Hm," Daniri said, hesitating. "You're... uh... pretty big."

"Seen all your movies!" Kaibutsu said with a giddy little chuckle. "Love your show."

"Um, thanks?" Daniri said, trying to work out in his head how he could possibly beat a six hundred pound pile of muscle with horns.

"There," Sekkou said, pacing out from behind the ogre and looking up at Daniri. "He's a fan. See? No reason to be violent. We just want to talk, Daniri. The Locust's goals, for the moment, have the good of all the Empire at heart. Surely a white-bread action hero like you can get behind something like that?"

"Sekkou, you talk too much," said another voice behind them.

Sekkou threw himself to the floor as a gunshot echoed through the warehouse. Kaibutsu blinked, scratched his back, looked at the blood on his fingers, then turned to see who had shot him. Sekkou rolled and ducked behind a steel tool trolley. A young man crouched in the shadows of the warehouse, a smoking pistol clutched in both hands.

"Jiro!" the ogre said, mouth parting in a savage grin.

Jiro's eyes were wide in terror. "Kaibutsu," he said. "I wasn't aiming at you, I was-"

"Kill him, Kaibutsu!" Sekkou snapped, drawing a pistol from his coat.

"Where did you get that gun, Jiro?" Daniri snapped, ducking down behind Akodo's toppled form.

Kaibutsu simply stood in the middle of it all and looked confused. "Bullet didn't hurt," he shrugged. "Why kill Jiro? Bullet didn't hurt. Accident. Jiro Kaibutsu's friend."

"He just tried to shoot me, Kaibutsu!" Sekkou snapped. The Locust glanced around in irritation. Now that blasted Daniri had disappeared, too. He hated his life.

"Why Jiro try to shoot Sekkou?" the ogre asked, a lost, confused note in his voice.

"Sekkou's a bad man, Kaibutsu!" Jiro shouted back. "He tried to kill my brother!" Jiro ducked behind a shrouded heap, taking cover in case Sekkou returned fire.

Kaibutsu looked more confused than ever.

"Don't you get it?" Sekkou snapped. "Daniri is the runt's brother! Jiro thinks we're trying to kill him!"

"If the shoe fits," Daniri said, darting out of the shadows and delivering a swift kick to Sekkou's helmet. The Locust's gun skittered across the floor and disappeared beneath one of the many shrouded forms. Daniri spun in the air and delivered a double punch to the Locust's chest as he rose.

"Damnit!" Sekkou reeled and threw a punch at the Akodo. Daniri veered out of the way and drove a knee into Sekkou's armpit, then glanced up with a look of absolute horror as Kaibutsu closed his giant fist over his face.

"STOP FIGHTING!" Kaibutsu roared, lifting Daniri off his feet by his face. "SEKKOU FRIEND! JIRO FRIEND! DANIRI KAIBUTSU'S HERO! NOW ALL OF YOU STOP FIGHTING OR KAIBUTSU KILL YOU ALL!" The walls of the warehouse shook with the echoes of Kaibutsu's rant.

"Well, I think that's settled the matter for me, Kaibutsu," Sekkou said, clutching his stomach and taking several steps back from the ogre. "Truce?" He looked around for his lost gun and wand.

"JIRO?" Kaibutsu demanded. "TRUCE?"

"Truce! Truce!" Jiro nodded, dropping his gun on the floor.

"DANIRI?" demanded. "TRUCE?"

Daniri emitted muffled screams as he struggled helplessly to breathe.

"Oh," Kaibutsu said, setting him back on the ground. "Sorry. Truce?"

"Truce! Truce!" Daniri gasped, rubbing his face to get the circulation back.

"All right, then," Sekkou said. "That ugly business is all behind us. Let's stop trying to kill each other and talk."

"What do you want, Sekkou?" Jiro asked. He moved quickly to his brother's side and kept his eyes on the Locust.

"From you, Jiro? Nothing," Sekkou replied. "I didn't know you'd be here. I'm vaguely interested in what you did with that crystal we found in the mall, but that ship has sailed. Now I want to know something from your famous brother."

"Ask," Daniri said.

"What do you know about the Stormbreaker?" Sekkou demanded.

"Funny," Daniri replied. "You're the second bug in a mask with delusions of grandeur who's asked me that tonight. I didn't help the other guy out, either."

"Hm," Sekkou nodded. "Well, then..." Sekkou reached up with both hands and removed his helmet. The Locust's long hair fell around his shoulders, and his pale blue eyes flickered in the dim flourescents.

Daniri just looked at him for a moment. "What?" he said. "Did you expect me to recognize you or something? I have no idea who you're supposed to be."

"I'm Inago Sekkou," Sekkou replied tersely. "I'm on every Most Wanted List in the Empire from here to the Seal. No one has seen my face and lived, except for Inago, Kaibutsu, and my sister. I am trying to illustrate that you can trust me."

"Fine, I can trust you," Daniri shrugged. "I still can't tell you squat. I don't know anything about the Stormbreaker."

Sekkou nodded. "I feared as much," he said. "Still, you can be of help. Your War Machine contains a very rare form of Shosuro microcircuitry. It's extraordinarily expensive and rare, for it resonates with the kami on an atomic level. I believe that if we use your War Machine, we can track the tetsukansen to their source."

Daniri rose an eyebrow. "Really," he replied. "Even after the Locust got smeared by the Shinjo, you still have the tech to do that?"

Sekkou grabbed the nearest dust-covered tarp and pulled. Underneath, a console of monitors and analysis equipment gleamed beneath a plastic slip-cover, good as new.

"Holy!" Jiro swore, staring at the machine in wonder. He glanced around at the dozen other tarp-covered forms, which he had assumed were automobiles. "Are all of these the same thing?"

"Not the same thing," Sekkou replied, "but variations on a theme."

"You've got as much computing power in this room as Dojicorp, man," Daniri said, lifting another tarp and peeking beneath.

"More," Sekkou said.

"Don't touch that," snapped a woman's voice. A door opened at the rear of the room and a petite woman with long black hair and a short green skirt sauntered into the room. She slapped Daniri hard on the hand and then uncovered another machine. "How have you been, Sekkou?" she asked, not turning to look at him as she began bringing the machinery to life.

"I am well, sister," Sekkou replied with a rare smile. "I see you have kept everything in pristine condition."

She turned to face him, an impish grin spreading across her small face. "I've kept it in good use," she said.

"Sekkou, what's going on here?" Jiro asked. "Who is this?"

"Inago Mitni," Sekkou replied. "My sister."

"Mitni pretty," Kaibutsu said with a shy grin. She looked back at him and waved.

"Jiro, you know as well as I," Sekkou answered. "The Machine is everywhere. All powerful. All consuming. If you're going to battle the omnipotent, it helps to have a backup plan. Mitni has been building and maintaining this terminal while I've been working with Inago and the greater part of our forces underneath the city."

"I hear what happened to Inago," Mitni said, sitting herself in a chair and tapping away at a keyboard. "I hate to break it to you, bro, but you're better off without that guy. He was a loser. I always told you he was going to bring you down. I'm glad you had the stones to kill him."

"As much as it galls me to admit, you were right," Sekkou said, walking toward her and placing one hand on her shoulder.

"As always," she replied. "I still think should dump the anarchy gig and go into e-crime. It's the wave of the future."

"If I just wanted to make money, I'd get a real job," Sekkou smiled wryly.

Daniri laughed. "You're just like the rest, Locust," he said.

Sekkou glanced at him sharply. "And what does that mean, my pseudo-Lion friend?"

Daniri shook his head. "You pretend to be high and mighty, so much more enlightened than the rest. Know the Machine. Hate the Machine. Destroy the Machine. In the end, you were hiding as much from your followers as your so-called Machine. Maybe if you'd put all the resources you used on this warehouse into your beloved Locust Clan, you wouldn't have been beaten. Did you ever think of that?"

Sekkou frowned. "Nature abhors a vacuum, Daniri," he replied. "What good does it do to destroy the Machine if nothing is prepared to take its place? Resources such as these were to be the beginning of a new world. A world where information can be ripe for the taking, for those with the strength and wisdom to take it."

"For you, you mean," Daniri said.

"Of course," Sekkou said. "For myself, but for others as well. I was the Locust's inspiration. Should I not share in the fruits of their success?"

"Stop it, both of you," Mitni sighed, tossing her hair back with a sneer. "Really, Sekkou. You know how much your pseudo-political rhetoric bugs me. Now hook me up to that War Machine so we can get this job done. I was in the middle of three insider trading deals and an e-commerce insurance scam when you guys showed up. I'm losing thousands just by sitting in this chair."

"Of course, dear Mitni," Sekkou said with a tight smile. "It wouldn't do for us to be impolite to our host, would it? Assist me, Daniri." The Locust and the actor crossed the warehouse toward the inert form of the War Machine. Mitni leaned back in her chair and stretched languidly. Jiro sat down on some stairs nearby and wondered how he had gotten himself into this.

Kaibutsu just sat on the floor next to Jiro stared at Mitni. "Mitni pretty," he whispered with a shy nod.

Daidoji Eien stood at his post in the Gardens, near the concealed door that hid Munashi's holding cells. His left arm burned, a reminder of the Crab War Machine's jade laser. Though the wound had healed instantly, the pain still lingered. Eien told no one of the pain. He kept it to himself.

The pain was the only thing he had that was truly his.

The Crane knew that he was no longer alive. His soul had passed on to Jigoku and whatever memory lingered here was just some creation of Asahina Munashi. He also knew that whatever he had become, it wasn't right. The pain reminded him of that. He hung on to it, focused on it. It made him stronger. It made him feel right.

Kamiko would die soon, that much he knew. Once Asahina Munashi completed his plans for Otosan Uchi, the girl's usefulness would be at an end. The Emperor's will would be broken. His soul would be in thrall to the thing Munashi was summoning from Jigoku. Eien could feel the darkness gathering even now. The city was doomed. Doji Kamiko would die.

The part of Eien that was revenant reveled in such an idea. It remembered the joy it took in tearing apart the Daidoji soldiers. It remembered the look of utter horror on Kamiko's face when he came for her, drenched in the blood of her friends. It looked forward to the time when Munashi would command her death, and it smiled.

The part of him that was still Eien, the smaller part, the weaker part, the part that focused on the pain in his arm, rebelled against the revenant. The revenant didn't care. It enjoyed Eien's feeble protests. When Eien had gone to check on Kamiko earlier, the revenant had allowed it. Another look at the girl would make the memory that much more painful. What she had said made it even sweeter. She was strong, and thought herself fearless. She would learn. Her death would be a good one. The revenant lost itself in reverie, imagining the atrocities to come.

A noise suddenly echoed from the cells behind them. The revenant snapped back to itself, peering about in confusion.

"Over there," Eien said, indicating a far end of the garden. "Something is here."

Daidoji Eien drew his pistol and charged off through the garden.

When he was gone, Doji Kamiko quickly slipped out of the concealed door and snuck away through the shadows.

The monorail moved through the upper levels of the city like a sapphire blur. Dojicorp had constructed it to be the fastest, most reliable form of public transportation in the city. It was a huge success. In the five years it had been running, it had never been off schedule, not even once.

The schedule wasn't good enough tonight. Tonight, the train needed to outrun the wind.

Bayushi Zou ran through the passenger cars, Bayushi Oroki only a step behind. The Enforcer was doing his job, picking up people and shoving them out of the way. There was nothing personal about it, and Zou tried not to hurt anyone. His boss needed to get to the engine room and this was the fastest way.

"Hey, you two!"

Zou looked up. A Shinjo cop was standing in the car in front of them, scowling. "What in Jigoku are you doing?" he demanded.

"Move," Zou ordered, continuing to advance. He shoved two men out of his way and kept going.

"Hey, calm down, big guy!" the cop shouted, drawing a stun gun from his belt. "This is a public place, you can't just shove people out of the-"

Zou grabbed the end of the stun gun. It sparked pathetically in the Enforcer's hand. "Move," he said again.

The cop looked down nervously at the weapon, now broken in Zou's fist.

"Do what he says," Oroki suggested over Zou's shoulder. "We're in a hurry."

The cop hesitated. Zou shrugged, punched the man hard in the face, and set his limp body in a passenger seat. The Scorpions kept moving.

"The engine is just ahead, sir," Zou reported.

Sparks suddenly lit the windows on either side of the monorail. The train seemed to shudder on its tracks, and screams echoed from one of the rear cars.

"Too late," Oroki said, drawing the guns from his jacket. "She's found us."

"Disconnect the cars?" Zou suggested.

"That will only kill innocent people, Zou," Oroki said. "She'll come after us again. We know what she wants."

"You're still injured, sir," Zou said.

Oroki nodded and looked up at the Enforcer. The Scorpion's eyes were calm behind his mask, calmer than Zou had ever seen. "When I die," he said, "Take the Migi Hidari. Don't let them win, Zou."

"I won't let you die, sir," Zou promised.

"A good promise," Oroki replied. "Let's put it to the test."

The two Scorpions turned, running back toward the end of the train. Zou drew a huge pistol from his own jacket. He knew it wouldn't do any good against the Oracle, but it was better than nothing. Heading back was more difficult than the journey forward. A mob of frightened people were pushing their way to the front of the train, screaming and shoving as they hurried to get away from whatever was happening in the rear. After a few moments, it was clear that they weren't going to get anywhere.

"Hang on, sir," Zou said, holding one arm out for Oroki to grab. He pointed his gun straight up and fired several times, blowing a large hole in the roof of the train. Leaping into the air, Zou pulled himself and Oroki onto the roof with one arm. Zou turned his shoulders into the roaring winds as the train screamed through the city. Oroki simply held onto Zou's arm. He knew he would never be able to stay on the roof of the speeding monorail by himself; only the Enforcer's enhanced strength and agility made such a feat conceivable.

The monorail veered around a curve and the rear of the train was briefly visible. The last car was in flames, the roof torn open to the sky. The second car was now smoking and shaking. Flashes of lightning illuminated the windows of the car briefly. The roof peeled open like a bursting bubble. "There," Oroki said, pointing. "Take us to her, Zou."

The Enforcer nodded. He broke into a run. Soshi Isawa had done his work well. Zou's legs were still mostly human, but had been reinforced to match the strength of his tetsukami arms. Zou ran in a straight line along the top of the train, driving his feet down with enough force to leave footprints in the steel. He carried Oroki with no effort whatsoever, running at top speed until they reached the third car from the end.

"Here," Oroki said, pointing to the roof.

Zou nodded, he rose one leg and stomped with all his strength. The steel gave way and the two Scorpions landed in the passenger car with a crash. A startled bystander leapt out of the way without a second to lose, then continued fleeing toward the front of the train.

"Excuse us," Oroki called out as he dusted metal flakes from his sleeves. He peered into the next car. The train was littered with the bodies of passengers who had been slain by the Oracle or trampled by their fellows. The Dark Oracle of Air was also there, in the stolen body of Shosuro Kochiyo. Her face was bloody and broken, but it was the same. She walked from one limp body to the next, speaking a single word and firing lightning from her eyes into theirs.

It seemed as if she was slowly, systematically, making certain that everyone in the train was dead.

Oroki pointed the Migi Hidari at her, and she looked up.

Oroki said nothing, only fired.

Shosuro Kochiyo's head exploded, and she fell.

Oroki also fell a moment later, grimacing in pain as he clutched the pistols to his chest. "Did I hit her?" he whispered hoarsely. "Is it done?"

Zou's rubber elephant mask showed nothing of the surprise on his face.

"No," He said.

Oroki forced himself to look up. Every body in the train car was rising, turning to face him.

"Thunders," Oroki swore.

"Well, how about it, kolat?" said the nearest, an old lady with a twisted smile. Lightning flickered in her eyes. "Do you have enough chi left to pull it off? Can you gun everyone in this car or will the guns kill you first? Think about it, kolat. Air is everywhere, kolat." The mob advanced, dozens of them. They all wore the same smile, the Dark Oracle of Air's smile. Their eyes crackled with electricity. Zou stepped in front of Oroki and began firing his gigantic pistol. The front ranks of the mob were blown to pieces but the rest kept coming, unconcerned.

"We haven't forgotten you, Enforcer," said the closest, an eight year old boy with burns on his face. "We'll kill both of you, then kill everyone else on this train. Or you can give us the stone. What's more important, kolat? The lives or innocents or the vendetta you pretend you fight on their behalf?"

"Zou," Oroki whispered from the floor, his voice almost inaudible. "Your plan from before. Be ready."

Zou tapped his left foot on the floor twice, so that his master would see but the Oracle would not.

"You hurt us, Enforcer," said another of the Oracle's vessels, a bloody man in the uniform of a postal worker. "You hurt us, but you can't stop us."

"You're wrong," Oroki said staggering to his feet. He holstered his pistols and drew something else from his coat, a small, shining stone.

"The Bloodwhite Stone," all of the bodies said at once. "Give us the stone and you will die swiftly."

"If you want it so badly," Oroki replied, "then fetch." He turned and hurled it through the roof of the train.

The Oracle's bodies turned to watch it go.

"Zou," Oroki snapped as he fell limp to the floor again. "NOW."

Zou grabbed Oroki in one hand, took a step back, and dropped a clip of tetsukami bullets at the junction of the cars. He turned and ran, carrying the exhausted body of his master. Lightning crackled around him, searing his back and tearing the seats apart as the Oracle screamed in fury. He aimed the gun behind him as he ran, firing at the clip. Orange fire erupted with the second shot and the rear cars were blown from the train, careening off the track and plummeting to the streets below.

The train began to sway dangerously as its tail was blown to pieces. Zou kept running until he reached a car that was still relatively stable. The train begin to slow to a stop. Zou crouched and lay Oroki on the floor, reaching for his master's mask.

"No," Oroki replied, waving Zou away. "I'm all right. Leave it be. Thank you, Zou."

"Oroki-sama," Zou nodded. "The Oracle is gone."

Oroki nodded, sitting up with a groan. "It only seeks the stone," Oroki said. "And I gave it to her."

"You saved the people on the train, Oroki-sama," Zou said.

"Lets hope it's not at the cost of the rest of Rokugan," Oroki replied. "Get us down there, Zou."

"You can't fight," Zou said. "You're can't walk! You're-"

"Don't argue with me, Zou!" Oroki shouted. "Get me down there!"

Zou nodded, lifted his master again, and ran towards the rear of the train.

Takao stepped into a small chamber. The walls were lined with tiny shrines to the Fortunes and kami. A simple bamboo staff lay propped against one corner. Takao crossed the room, took the staff in both hands, and gestured for the two visitors to come inside. He sat cross-legged on the floor, holding the staff across his knees.

Mojo glanced around the shrine and entered cautiously. Teika moved in behind him, bowing to Takao and kneeling on the floor. Mojo remained standing.

"Please, sit, Phoenix," Takao said. "You are a guest, not an enemy."

Mojo shook his head. "I don't feel comfortable," he replied. "Forgive me if I stand."

"Of course," Takao said, staring up at Mojo with his strange white eyes. "I apologize that my monastery is not as it appears. I envy you, my friend, that you have nothing to hide. I presume your soul is clean of all imperfection... as clean and clear as the Void itself." Takao smiled. Mojo shifted uncomfortably. "Now how may I help you?" Takao asked, turning to the Oracle.

"I only recently attained my position," Teika explained to the monk. "My predecessor died recently in a battle with one of the Elemental Terrors, Oni no Kaze. I have inherited his knowledge, as well as his quest to restore the Oracles to balance. The one that calls himself the Dark Oracle of the Void, Yogo Ishak, has become even more blatant in his quest for power. He absorbs the power of all the Oracles into himself without realizing it, or without caring. As the Oracles die, their counterparts lose their power. Neither Jigoku or Yoma have the power to create new Oracles any longer. If we cannot stop Ishak, then we shall be the last."

"My order fights against the Dark Oracles," Takao replied. "Why should we be concerned that the Oracles are dying? Only one Dark Oracle means a single enemy to us."

"An enemy with the strength of ten Oracles!" Teika corrected. "If Ishak attains his ultimate goal, he will be unstoppable!"

"So what would happen, for example," Takao asked, "If you were to die, Teika? Would not Yogo Ishak lose his power?" The monk's hands tightened on his bo staff, and he watched the Oracle carefully for his answer.

"No," Teika said. "Ishak is not a true Oracle, he has merely taken the power of one. He is an aberration, given power by the assistance of the Terror of the Void. If I were to die, that would merely give him exclusive domain over Void. The conjunction of the Elements would become corrupted, and all would be swiftly lost."

"I see," Takao replied. He turned to face Mojo. "I can guess why you brought the Phoenix along."

Mojo scowled. "And why is that?"

"You have the stink of the Terror on you, boy," Takao said, rising quickly and glaring down into the yojimbo's eyes. "You have given Akeru your name. You walk a step away from damnation."

"But I'm still here," Mojo said. "I haven't given in to the oni."

Takao laughed, a harsh laugh. "It probably doesn't want . It might not care, or even remember you. Akeru steals many names, draining away the strength of foolish mortals over a period of many years. If it wanted to, it could strip your soul in an instant."

Teika watched Mojo quietly for a moment, then quickly looked away.

"That's it, isn't it?" Mojo asked the Oracle. "That's what you were hoping for. You're hoping that the oni will try to take over and you'll be there when it happens to sniff him out!"

Moto Teika looked up at Mojo, a cold, unconcerned expression on his face. "Nothing personal, Shiba," he said. "The greater safety of the Celestial Order is at stake."

Mojo said nothing. He simply sat down in the corner, folded his arms, and scowled. He wasn't about to become a tool of the kolat and the Oracles. There had to be a way out of this. There had to be.

Takao ignored the yojimbo, turning toward Teika once more. "What will you do when you find the oni, Oracle?" he asked. "Others have battled Akeru before, and lost. He is the most powerful of the Greater Terrors."

"I will think of something," Teika said firmly. "Hashin defeated Kaze, I can do no less than to defeat Akeru."

"But what purpose would that serve?" Takao pressed. "Killing the oni will not guarantee a decrease in Yogo Ishak's power. You do not know for certain whether there is still a connection between them. Perhaps you will accomplish nothing but to kill yourself and save Ishak the trouble."

Teika frowned in silence.

"What else can we do?" Takao asked.

"I know what we can do," Mojo said standing once more.

Teika blinked. "Eh?" he said.

"No," Mojo said. "Every mortal gets to ask one question of an Oracle. I want mine now."

Teika stared up at the yojimbo. "You're right," he said. "Ask."

"What do I have to do to be free?" Mojo asked.

Teika's gaze suddenly became distant as the answer formed in his mind. A moment later, his vision cleared once more. "Seek that which the Dark Oracles seek," he said. "Give them the power that they desire, in the method of your choosing."

Takao frowned. "And now for mine. Will it benefit the kolat for us to help Shiba Mojo in his quest?" he asked.

"Yes," Teika replied.

Mojo pushed his hair out of his eyes. "What in Jigoku does that mean?" he asked.

A subtle grin spread across Washi Takao's features. "I think I know," he said. "The kolat have fought the Dark Oracles for centuries. I know what they want."

"And what is that?" Mojo asked.

Takao stood, his bamboo staff clicking on the stone floor. "Come with me, if you dare, Phoenix. I will show you."

Koan sat by himself on a hillside.

In two thousand years, you could make a lot of mistakes. That was for sure. He wondered if he was making one now. He looked out at the night sky, the stars that spanned the dark black. He had friends up there, friends that had met their destinies, died like they were supposed to, and were set in the firmament so that they would always be remembered.

Not Koan.

Never Koan.

Koan was stuck here, and no one cared.

He could feel his back burning; he was sitting far too close to his tiny campfire. So be it. That was where the crane tattoo was. That blasted bird had kept him alive for two thousand years. Maybe if he was lucky it would peel off and he could die.

No such luck. The barbed wire hadn't worked. This little fire sure wouldn't.

"You have a powerful destiny," Togashi had said long ago when the tattoo was complete. "You will live long and the world will mourn your passing."

At the time, he was honored, more flattered than he could express in words. He had become the first of the ise zumi, the elite tattooed men that served the kami Togashi and steered Rokugan toward its destiny.

He didn't feel flattered anymore. He felt tired, and angry, and bitter. If Togashi showed up right now, Koan figured that he would probably wrestle him to the ground and beat him to death with a log.

"You shall open the door," Togashi had said. "You shall clear the entry for the Seven Thunders, allowing them to meet the Champion of Jigoku in final battle, allowing the Final Thunder to rise. Only then shall your task be complete. Only then shall you meet your death."

But he missed it. The first time, it didn't seem like a big deal. He was young, then, and had no idea what a long time one thousand years was. The second time, the whole thing just made him angry. He was right there! Right in view of the Palace! Then those stupid Lions had to drag him off to fight Fu Leng's reserves.

That wasn't the worst, part.

No, no, that wasn't the worst part.

Right before he was pulled away, Koan saw something. He saw Yakamo and Hoturi and Toturi and Kamoko and her horse and Toku and Mookie and Barbie and whatever the heck the Thunders' names were. He saw them sneak up to the gates, carrying that poor, roasted Phoenix. He saw the doors open. He saw Togashi open them.

He saw Togashi look right at him, right at good old Koan.

He saw Togashi laugh.

Oh, Koan knew the story that was told since. Sure, the Scorpion Thunder opened the door, not Togashi. Everyone knows that, if they remember at all.

Koan knows what he saw.

"That kami bastard is keeping me alive," he snarled. "It's all a big joke."

"Yeah," Koan laughed. "Well, who's on top of Togashi Mountain now, huh?" He laughed again, and then stopped. Laughing by yourself and talking to yourself are signs of an unstable mind, right?

"I'll be Togashi talks to himself a lot," Koan said out loud. "Crazy bastard."

Koan got up and started walking down the mountain. He needed to clear his head. The last thing he wanted to do was start pitying himself. He'd done quite enough of that. He pitied himself on and off for centuries. He missed the Wrath of Beyond because self pity. A hundred years of moping and suddenly the Tortoise weren't a Great Clan anymore. That was a shocker. He wasn't going to let that happen again. He wasn't going to become depressed, not now. He was way too close. The Thunders were coming. He could smell it.

That was why he'd allied himself with the bad guys this time. The bad guys were always there when the Thunders showed up, right? After all, it was the Thunders' job to kill them. Koan looked forward to that. He looked forward to being killed. He'd lived a long, long time, and was sick of it. Nothing thrilled him anymore. Heck, nothing even bored him anymore. Nothing moved him enough to bore him.

Now he just found everything funny, and even that was starting to get old.

At least he seemed to be on the winning side this time. Hoshi Jack was smart. Hoshi Jack was organized. He didn't wait till the last minute and assume that everything would go to plan like Fu Leng. He had eggs in his basket that hadn't even hatched yet. His plan didn't stop at Rokugan; Hoshi Jack was worldwide. When the hammer came down on the Third Day of Thunder, everyone would feel it. Koan smiled.

Hoshi Jack was winning.

Koan stopped smiling.

He realized something with a start. Maybe Hoshi Jack was too good. Maybe he was too smart. Maybe he was too organized. Despite Jack's belief that the Thunders would meet their destiny regardless of what anyone did, one of the Thunders was already dead. What if he got the other six?

Koan couldn't open the door if there was nobody on the other side.

Koan cursed, loudly. He fell on the ground and punched a log with both fists for several minutes.

There had to be a way. There had to be something he could do to make sure that the Thunders showed up on time. He glanced back at Hoshi Jack's mansion. The grounds were huge. Koan could see the traps and secret defense systems. He'd helped design most of them. The Thunders would never be able to bust in there without an army. What if they didn't have an army? What if they all got wiped out in Jack's front yard?

That would suck.

Koan would be happy to show them how to get in if he had too, but the Thunders would never listen to a friend of the Stormbreaker.

And Koan did consider Jack his friend. Jack understood Koan in many ways that nobody else ever could. He didn't want Jack to lose. He just wanted to even up the scales a bit.

If the Thunders at least knew who the Stormbreaker was, then they'd have a chance...

But Koan would never find the Thunders, and they would never listen...

Where would Koan find a someone idealistic enough to listen to him, but powerful enough to make the threat stick? Where would he find someone that could pull Jack's mask off and show it to all the world? Where could he find someone powerful, untapped, and expendable?

"Of course," Koan laughed. "What kind of an idiot am I?"

Koan stepped through the walls between reality, a little trick he'd learned in twenty centuries of living. Glancing around, he seemed to be where he wanted to be. The little monk sucked in the thick, earthy air. The place hadn't changed. It never changed. That was comforting. He stepped further into heart of the Shinomen.

"Here, naga-naga-naga-naga," he called out. "I know you guys are in here somewhere..."

"Imperial Guard. Halt where you are."

"It's all right, Shinden," Ryosei said, stepping forward so that the Wasp could see her clearly. "It's just me."

"Princess Ryosei," Shinden replied with obvious relief. He holstered his pistol and bowed deeply. His eyes narrowed at the figure behind her. "And who are you, sir?"

"This is Isawa Kemmei, a representative of the Masters," Ryosei replied. "He wishes to speak with my brother."

Shinden looked confused. "Would not Munashi appear himself if the Masters wished to speak to the Emperor?" he asked.

"Munashi is a busy man, is he not?" Ryosei asked pertly as she strode toward the door. "Now are you going to open my brother's chambers for us or must I do it myself?"

"Of course, my lady," Shinden said, ducking in front of her and seizing the handle of the door. The Guardsman paused for a moment, mouth hanging open, as if he was going to say something.

"What?" Ryosei asked. "What is it? Do you have something to say?" Saigo squinted at the man cautiously.

Shinden shook his head and smiled. "Nothing," he said. "Nothing at all. Go right inside." The Wasp opened the doors. Ryosei and Saigo quickly stepped into the hallway beyond.

Saigo glanced back as the doors closed. "There was something wrong with that guard," he said.

"Shinden?" Ryosei asked. "He's the Captain of the Guard. He's just overworked. He was one of my father's most loyal guards, and he's thrown himself into his new position. Maybe he's not getting enough sleep."

"No, that's not what I mean," Saigo said.

Ryosei frowned. "You're not telling me that he's implanted, are you?"

"Not exactly," Saigo said, glancing back again uncertainly. "It wasn't an implant, but it was something very much like one. It's almost like he's cursed. Maybe this isn't a good idea, Ryosei, maybe we should go."

Ryosei looked down the hall, in the direction of her brother's chambers, once her father's office. A sudden scream echoed through the corridor, full of rage and frustration. At the other side of the door, Shinden made no move to investigate.

"Would you leave Kameru like that?" Ryosei said to Saigo.

Saigo nodded rapidly, pointing a thumb at the door.

"Saigo," Ryosei sighed.

"Damn it, all right," he said. "Let's go."

Ryosei nodded, turned, and ran down the hallway toward the sound of the scream. Saigo blinked in surprise and chased after her. The two of them arrived in the Emperor's enormous office and froze in shock. Smears of fresh blood marred the walls. Bullet holes cracked the ancient fresco on the ceiling. The tables were overturned and the windows were broken. At the Emperor's desk slumped a thick man in a dark green mempo, gasping for breath. His hand rested on a large silver pistol.

"Kameru!" Ryosei exclaimed.

"No, Ryosei!" Saigo warned, grabbing her shoulders before she could run to him. The Emperor suddenly snapped to attention, sitting bolt upright and pointing his gun at them both.

"Who in Jigoku are you?" he demanded in a rough voice. "What do you want?" He turned his head this way and that as he considered them, like a reptile. Caked blood was visible around the edges of his cracked mempo.

"Kameru, don't you recognize me?" Ryosei asked desperately. "Why are you wearing that mask?"

"He's not wearing the mask, Ryosei," Saigo said softly. "The mask is wearing him. That's no mempo, it's... something else. There's some sort of an illusion wrapped around it."

"Ryosei?" the Emperor said, his eyes widening as his voice cleared for a moment. "My daughter?" "No," she said. "Ryosei! Your sister!"

"I don't HAVE A SISTER!" Kameru roared, standing and waving the gun at them. "My sister was killed by Isawa Mochiko! They sent, you didn't they?"

"Kameru?" Ryosei took a step toward him and he pointed the gun directly at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Isawa Mochiko," Saigo whispered. "He was a member of a tsukai terrorist group that attacked Neo-Shiba's Dojicorp division a few years back. They kidnapped Doji Orihime and held her for ransom. They mutilated and killed her before Meda could meet the ransom."

"Doji Orihime?" Ryosei asked, looking at Saigo.

"Doji Meda's sister," Saigo replied. "I wonder who else is in there with him? Ryosei..." Saigo stepped closer to her, whispering quietly.

"What are you whispering about back there?" the Emperor demanded, circling around the desk and advancing on them. Stains of dried blood covered the front of his shirt, streaming down from the mempo on his face. A bright blue katana was tucked into his belt. "Are you plotting against me, Shikogu? Damn it, I killed you once, I can do it again! Curse me a thousand times, but I'll do it again!"

"Kameru stop it!" Ryosei screamed, her voice shrill. "You're not our father! You're not Doji Meda! You're not anyone else, you're Yoritomo Kameru! You're my brother, damn it! Throw off whatever spell Munashi has put on you and come back to me!" "Munashi hasn't done anything to me," Kameru laughed bitterly, holding his hands out, and waving the gun back and forth. "Munashi is the only one I can trust. Munashi is my friend. He's got my soul and he's got my name. He said I should kill anyone that comes in here, and I think I'll start with you, Phoenix." He pointed the gun at Saigo's face and cocked the hammer.

Saigo looked down the barrel and didn't flinch. "If you think Doji Kamiko would want it that way, go right ahead. Shoot me."

Kameru's finger paused on the trigger. His eyes grew distant. In that split second, Saigo spoke a quick spell. The air surged around the Emperor and threw him backwards into his desk. The gun spun out of his hands across the floor. Saigo picked it up and pointed it at Kameru's head. Kameru reached for his sword.

"Don't do it," Saigo said. "Put down the sword."

"Put down the sword?" the Emperor laughed. A trail of spittle dangled from his lip. He slowly, deliberately drew the katana from his belt and held it in both hands, pointing it at Isawa Saigo. It throbbed brightly with magical light. The spirits swirling around the blade were clearly visible to Saigo.

"Seven Thunders," Saigo swore.

"What is it?" Ryosei asked. She moved out to one side, approaching Kameru but staying out of Saigo's line of fire.

"I don't know what it is!" Saigo said. "I've never seen anything like it! Ryosei, stay away from that sword!"

"Kameru, what have they done to you?" Ryosei asked. Her eyes were moist, but she approached him without fear.

"Kameru is dead!" the Emperor screamed. "Long live the Emperor!"

"I don't believe that, Kameru," Ryosei said, taking another step toward him. "I don't think you could hurt me. Whatever Munashi has done to you, I don't think he's powerful enough to destroy that part of you. I think you're still in there. I think you're still-"

With a savage growl, the Emperor of Rokugan lunged at her. Yashin sliced through Yoritomo Ryosei at the waist.

"She's WHAT?!?" Munashi roared into the telephone.

"She's missing sir," was the reply. "We checked on her cell just minutes ago, and it was empty."

"Who is this?" Munashi demanded. "Who am I talking to?"

"My name is Daidoji Ogeo, sir," the man said. "I'm one of the guards-"

"Give me Eien," Munashi snapped.

"Yes, sir," the man said.

There was a pause.

"Eien," said a gruff voice.

"Eien," Munashi sighed. "Kill the man that was just speaking to me."

Gunshot.

"Sir?" Eien said.

"Find her," Munashi hissed. "Find Kamiko. When you find her, kill her!"

"Yes, sir," Eien replied.

Munashi pressed a key, disconnecting the line, and dialed another number.

"Suro," came the answer.

"Suro, are the other teams in position?" Munashi asked.

"Of course, sir," he said. "We still have a few final purification spells to prepare, but we should be ready tomorrow on schedule."

"Bugger the purification spells," Munashi snarled. "I'm not giving the Thunders any more chances. This city annoys me. Otosan Uchi goes down in flames tonight."

"Yes sir, I'll get right on it," Suro said pertly. "Anything else?"

"Hm. Yes," Munashi said. "Perhaps you'd better re-route Isawa Sumi's flight to South Huburb."

"Yes, sir," Suro said.

"Good bye, Suro," Munashi said with a grim smile. "I shall see you when the city is kibble."

"Good bye, sir," Suro replied.

"You have heard of the War Machines, I trust?" Takao asked, looking up at Mojo as they descended the staircase.

"Of course," Mojo said, looking past the monk and down the spiraling stairs. "Everybody's heard of the War Machines. I'm surprised you've heard of them, though. I don't imagine you guys get much television out here." The stairwell seemed to spiral down forever. Something deep beneath them was radiating some kind of light, a light so bright that Mojo couldn't see the bottom of the stairs. There was something more, too. A certain shuddering in the walls of the stairwell, as if the mountain itself were breathing.

Takao laughed. "Just because we are apart from the world does not mean we are strangers to it," he said.

"What do the War Machines have to do with me?" he said.

"You'll see," Takao replied. "Just follow me." He continued down the staircase, staff tapping on the stairs as he walked.

"Where is that light coming from?" Mojo asked, following Takao as he tried to watch the light.

"Tell, me, Mojo," the monk said, ignoring the question. "What do you know about the kolat?"

"A little," the yojimbo replied. "I know the stories. The Ten Masters and the Great Pyramid. I know the tale of how they tried to overthrow the Emperor, and what happened to them afterward. They were wiped out."

"Multiple times," Takao nodded, glancing back at Mojo. "The kolat have always endured, since the very beginning. You see, Mojo, we have existed since the beginning of time as we recall it. Since before the kami fell from the heavens. Our founders were the leaders of the human tribes, those who helped fight back the monsters of legend before the kami came. When Hantei and the rest rose to power, we were cast out. Some fought back, and were destroyed. The wise ones fled, and survived. For over a thousand years, we plotted and schemed from the shadows to take back the reins of power. We believe that it was our destiny. That surely we survived for so long because the world was destined to be ours."

"Do you still believe that?" Mojo asked. He wished he had his gun again. These monks made him nervous.

"Put yourself at ease, Phoenix," Takao said over his shoulder. "The kolat discarded their dreams of conquest centuries ago." He stopped walking and turned to face Mojo, his face grave. "This is the truth. The kolat have a purpose, but not the one we first believed. No, we have a different destiny. We have known it since the very beginning, but we did not recognize the gift for what it was."

"What's that?" Mojo asked.

"In the early days of our organization, one of our scouts discovered an item of incredible power," Takao said. "It was an enormous stone, a stone filled with magical power. No man had ever created a nemuranai like it, and no man has duplicated it since. By staring into its depths, one saw with the eyes of the earth itself. Any location in the world, any place, any time, could be viewed by concentrating on the stone. Even more, the stone bled tears of pure crystal, and those who held the tears could communicate with those who guarded the stone. The Ten Masters at the time named it the Oni's Eye. The Eye allowed the kolat to coordinate like no other group in Rokugan. We were everywhere. We were nowhere. No one could catch us."

"But you were destroyed," Mojo said, sitting on the steps above Takao.

"Indeed," Takao nodded. "We were defeated often, but we always recovered. After a while, recovery became more difficult than it had been. Technology slowly caught up with our magic, and soon the Eye was not the advantage that it once was. Our numbers had waned, as certain factions knew well how to hunt our agents. In time, it was clear that we would need to gain a new advantage, or disappear forever. We made the mistake of seeking that advantage in the form of the Dark Oracles, and offered them the obsolete Oni's Eye in return."

"Sounds like that didn't turn out well," Mojo said.

Takao shook his head. "To say the least," he replied. "We were decimated. Once the Oracles were invited to meddle in our affairs, they destroyed us. They recognized what we had not. They saw the Eye as it truly was, not as we believed it to be."

"What do you mean?" Mojo asked.

"The Oni's Eye was not just magical," Takao said. "The Oni's Eye is magic. It is a condensed chunk of the life's blood of the earth, the spiritual power that runs through every nature spirit, mikokami, and nemuranai. It is a solid representation of our world. That is why it could see the entire world; it was showing us a part of itself. The Dark Oracles used the Eye for more than just viewing the world; they used it to change the world. They sought to remake creation in their own image, to turn the entire world into a Shadowlands."

"When was that?" Mojo asked. "I never heard about anything like that."

"Three hundred years ago, give or take a decade," Takao said. "We stopped the problem before it drew any notice. We defeated the Oracles, shattered the Oni's Eye, and hid the fragments so that the Oracles could never find them."

"How did you destroy the Oni's Eye, if it's so powerful?" Mojo asked.

"We had help," Takao replied.

"Help?" Mojo asked.

"Come with me, Phoenix," Takao said, walking down the steps once more. "I will introduce you to our ally."

Kitsu Jurin bowed her head in exhaustion. She had not moved from the spot where she knelt before Bayushi Yamato's shrine. Her legs no longer hurt; she wondered if they would support her once more when she tried to rise. Worry gnawed her mind. The gunfire that filled the temple had cut off shortly hours ago. She had heard voices since then, but had seen no one. Either Gohei was being remarkably sincere about not interrupting her vigil, or he and Argcklt were both dead.

She rubbed her face with both hands, then ran her fingers along her thick necklace of prayer beads. She wondered if the ancestors were even paying attention. Was she being tested? What if Okura's quest had truly been the whim of a dead madman, and now Gohei was dead because of it?

Jurin opened her eyes and looked back over her shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the halls outside the small shrine. When she turned back, a young, handsome man in crimson robes stood before him. He frowned thoughtfully and tapped his cheek with one finger.

"Having doubts, Lion?" he asked.

"Gunsmith!" Jurin said quickly, bowing to the floor before the spirit of the dead Scorpion.

"Why do they call me that?" Yamato replied, a note of irritation in his voice. "I only forged two guns in my entire life. Certainly, they were a remarkable pair of weapons but hardly something to judge a whole man's life on, wouldn't you agree?"

"I would not know," Jurin said. "I only know the legends of the Shadow Wars, in which you are the Gunsmith."

"Ah, of course," Yamato replied. He glanced past her, at the temple beyond. "Your friend is dying. For all his power, the zokujin can do little to stop it. You could. You could heal him in an instant."

"No," Jurin said.

Yamato tilted his head slightly. "Why?" he said, his voice sharp. "Gohei is a mighty warrior. Would you leave the Lion without a leader upon the Day of Thunder? Why don't you just swear fealty to the Shadowlands and destroy the Lion yourself. That's what you're doing."

"The fault will not be entirely mine," Jurin retorted, her mouth a firm, lipless line. "I shall not leave until you tell me where to find the Emperor's Journal. Without it, we will be defeated regardless."

Yamato chuckled, a short, humorless chuckle. "Is that it, then?" he said. "You think I still care enough about the Empire that I would tell you where to find the book, just so you'll leave and heal the Lion?"

"If you did not care about the Empire," Jurin answered, "You would not be here, Yamato-sama."

Yamato looked away for a moment, then gazed down at her with a glimmer of respect. "So," he said. "Am I to understand, Lion, that after ninety years of living in paradise, free from the entanglements of the dark world of politics, that you are blackmailing me for information?"

"If you wish to put it that way," she replied, "That's exactly what I'm doing."

"Marvelous," Yamato answered. "You know, when I was alive, no one had the gall to blackmail me. They were all far too frightened of what I represented. No, you're the first one. I must say, your patience and determination impress me, Lion. Take my mask."

"Your mask?" she asked, glancing down at the pale strip of grey leather that hung from Yamato's shrine.

"It served me well in my youth," the spirit said. "Before the Kyoso crippled my body. I have fond memories of the mask. I would not leave it here."

"Is the shrine not safe?" Jurin asked.

"The city is not safe," Yamato replied. "A great darkness is coming; one of the reasons I have decided to tell you of the journal. There is not much time left. You must find a woman named Genju Gemmei, the last surviving descendant of Ikoma Genju. She carries the Journal, though she does not realize what it is. Find her. Take her from the city, and hurry. Oh, and Lion... don't forget my mask."

The Scorpion faded from view, leaving Jurin alone. She paused a moment to whisper a prayer of thanks, then quickly snatched the mask from the shrine before hurrying out to find Gohei and Argcklt.

"Anything so far, Mitni?" Sekkou asked. The Locust sat at a console at the far end of the room, scanning screen after screen of unintelligible code.

"No," Mitni said sharply. "Sekkou, I have to tell you, this is a stupid plan. I was willing to go along with it at first, but it just isn't working. The tetsukansen are too small. They don't give off enough of a signal to trace except in large quantities."

"That's the point," Sekkou snapped back at her. "We're looking for large quantities. We're looking for the source."

Mitni tossed back her hair and glared at her brother. "And you think we're going to find one?" she asked. "If these things give off a definable signal, do you think whoever is behind all of this is going to be stupid enough to leave a pile of them in one place?"

"It's our only damned lead, Mitni!" Sekkou nearly shouted. "I know it's a longshot, but please, keep looking!"

"Waste of time," she mumbled under her breath, slumping over the computer desk and continuing to tap away at the keys.

Daniri stood between them, sipping from a cup of coffee and feeling mostly useless. He glanced down at the unoccupied work station between them, then turned to Mitni. "Hey, babe, do you mind if I check my e-mail?" he asked. "I haven't had a chance to look at it in ages."

She looked up at him and smiled sweetly. "Sure thing," she said. "Go right ahead, stud."

Sekkou glared at both of them, and Daniri sat down.

"So what's next?" Mitni said in an arch voice. "Are we going to build some sort of big silk underwear detecting device so that we can track the movements of the Dojicorp military? Cause I think that's at least as good an idea as this one."

"Mitni, please," Sekkou returned with a sigh. "This hasn't been an easy week for me."

"Oh, hasn't it?" she laughed back. "I thought you were a blood and guts kind of guy? Anarchy and pipe-bombs forever. Or is it not so fun when you're on the other end of the stick? The war doesn't seem quite so righteous when you're getting kicked across town by the boys in purple? This is exactly why I've always told you that the terrorist angle is a bad idea. You should settle down and get yourself a nice, safe job like me."

"Hm," Sekkou grunted noncommittally. "Cheating sixty year old ladies out of their pension checks? Ah, yes, Mitni. Very noble. How could I help but want to be involved with something like that?"

"I might as well take their money," she shot back. "If I don't, some of your goons are going to cave their heads in with a baseball bat and take it anyway."

"You two sound like you're married," Jiro said, glancing up from the magazine he was reading in the corner.

"Not husband and wife," Mitni said with a laugh. "More like mother and child. I practically raised that ungrateful-"

"Mitni," Sekkou said, his voice deadly. "You are quickly reaching my threshold. As much as I love you, be silent or I will put a bullet in your head."

Mitni's mouth closed with a click.

The warehouse filled with an uncomfortable silence. Kaibutsu hummed to himself. After a while, Daniri looked up from his console with a stunned expression.

"Um..." he said rising and running a hand through his blonde hair. "I think I've found something."

"What, fan mail?" Sekkou snapped.

"No," Daniri said. He pointed at the screen.

A very large e-mail was listed among the entries.

The sender's name was Ikoma Keijura.

The subject heading was "STORMBREAKER."

The content was even more interesting.

Officer Shinjo Rakki chewed on a donut.

He didn't eat donuts very often. He tried not to. He thought that cops and donuts were a terrible stereotype and he tried not to propagate it. Unfortunately, on night patrol there weren't many other places open.

It was a good donut. Not spectacular, but pretty good. He licked the sprinkles off his fingers as he walked back to his squad car and leaned against the door. He wondered vaguely if the rumors were true about his promotion. It didn't feel right. After all, he hadn't earned it. He hadn't done much to bring in Massad. Hatsu and Sachiko did most of the work. Then again, Sachiko had asked him not to report anything about her, so they ended up giving him all the credit. It was almost enough to make him believe he was really as lucky as everyone said.

Eh, whatever. If a promotion could get him out of patrol, he wasn't going to argue. He'd had about enough of people shooting at him. All he wanted now was a nice desk job in Shinjo Tower, and maybe a few people to boss around. Heck, maybe he could even get transferred. Otosan Uchi was becoming a really crazy place lately. Maybe he could get sent out to West Huburb. Some nice neighborhoods out there. Quiet, too. They didn't have Locust terrorists and Senpet soldiers bursting out of the sea every other week in West Huburb, and his uncle lived there.

Rakki wondered how Sachiko was doing. He wondered if she was all right. He missed her.

A sudden rattle sounded through the metal scaffolding that covered the street. The monorail was passing overhead. Clattering metal echoed down the street and flashing lights illuminated the alley. Rakki looked up. He thought he heard a scream. The monorail kept going, leaving a trail of smoke.

"Huh?" Rakki said, staring at the train. A monorail wasn't supposed to smoke.

A sudden squawk sounded from Rakki's belt. "Two-one-two, this is Tower. What's your twenty, Two-one-two?" said a woman's voice.

He pulled out the radio and held it to his mouth. "Rakki here," he said, "Come in, Tower. I'm at Eight and Saibankan, under the monorail tracks."

"Emergency situation on Dojicorp monorail," the dispatcher said. "The engineer should be stopping the train near your position. Put down your donut, investigate and report. Over."

Rakki sighed. "Okay, then," he said. "Over."

He put the radio back on his belt and looked up at the tracks forlornly. Some kind of accident on the monorail? This was going to be a long night. He'd end up having to do paperwork and he would miss the Bon Festival War Machine marathon on the Usagi Network.

Rakki heard a rattle in the scaffolding, and looked up. Something was bouncing through the metal. It hit the street with a crack, bouncing twice and spinning to a halt inches from Rakki's feet. He squatted and picked it up.

"Just a rock," he shrugged, examining the little piece of crystal. It seemed to shine from the inside. It burned brightly for a moment, and Rakki thought he could see something move within, something alive...

A deafening crash sounded blocks away. Rakki almost fell over from the aftershock.

"Two-one-two, this is Tower, come in Two-one-two!" his radio called out urgently.

Rakki stood and answered the radio, rubbing the glowing stone with his thumb. "Rakki here," he said. "Over."

"Get to Eight and Satsume, ASAP!" the dispatcher said quickly. "The monorail has derailed, report derailed. At least two cars have fallen into a commercial district. Over."

"Shinjo's Breath!" Rakki swore. "I'm there! Over!" He put the radio back on his belt and hopped in his car, still massaging the stone in one hand. The squad car's engine roared to life and he took off around the corner, almost immediately running into a bottleneck of traffic. "Traffic?" he growled. "At this hour? What in Jigoku could... oh yeah. Train wreck's will do that."

Now he'd never get to see War Machines.

Jigoku, Rakki wished he had a War Machine right now. That's about the only way he was going to get through this traffic jam. The stone hummed, briefly. He reached for the door handle, to get out and walk. On instinct, Rakki looked up. An old man in checkered green pants was standing on the trunk of the car in front of him, eyes shimmering with what seemed to be lightning.

"Give me the stone!" the man shouted, pointing at Rakki.

Rakki just stared, the stone forgotten in his hand.

"TORNADO!" the man shouted, lightning crackling around his body.

Rakki's ears popped as the air pressure in the car suddenly decreased. Suddenly, the wind bucked around the squad car, hurling the entire vehicle into the air. Rakki yelped in terror.

Now he really wished he had a War Machine.

The Kashrak could taste that the Badger was gone long before he reached the tunnel. His forked tongue flickered in the air, sensing details more accurate than even the sharpest human sense of sight could report. The Tainted Naga slithered through the darkness, making no sound. He wondered where Ichiro Chobu might have gone, and which of his servants might have eaten him.

The monstrous Naga paused before the chamber where the Badger had been contained. He inclined his head quizzically, testing the air once more with his tongue. Something was wrong. "You," he said, turning to one of the goblin stewards that followed him. "Go into that chamber and tell me where the Badger has gone."

The goblin nodded obediently, tripping over itself to fulfill its master's order. The creature stumbled into chamber, shaking muddy sewer water from its boots as it glanced around.

A moment later, the goblin died screaming, its body consumed in blue flames.

Kashrak's eyes widened. The cobra tentacles about its torso snapped to attention as they surveyed the situation. He turned to the goblins behind him. "You," he said, pointing to another. "Go inside."

The goblin nodded. It drew a little knife from its boot and charged forward with a war cry.

It burst into flames a moment after it entered, falling dead atop its comrade.

"You," Kashrak said, pointing to a third.

"But-" it said.

Kashrak sliced the disobedient steward's stomach open with a neat swipe of his claws, leaving it in the filthy water. "You," it pointed to another.

"Yes, Kashrak-sama," the goblin replied in a chirping voice.

That one died as well, though the flames burned less brightly this time. Kashrak considered the situation for a moment, then hoisted the disemboweled goblin and threw him in as well. It was surrounded with a small amount of flames. It screeched in pain, but did not die. The ward was no longer strong enough to hurt it.

Satisfied, Kashrak slithered into the room. The Naga sensed a burning irritation in his spine as he crossed the threshold, and glanced to each corner. A symbol had been drawn in chalk at each point of the compass, a ward against evil.

"The Badger has a sense of humor," the Naga said. He drew a black pearl from his pocket crushed it between his talons, and scattered the dust in one corner. The kanji burst into red flames and vanished. Kashrak wiped the kanji in the other corners with a single stroke of his three massive tails.

He considered, for a moment, finding Chobu and dealing with him personally. It would be a small expenditure of energy, and ultimately satisfying, to find the Badger and punish him. Just then, however, the wind whispered in his ear, a summons. The Naga turned to the black puddle of ichor that formed around the gutted, dying goblin and sprinkled another pearl into its depths. A moment later, the image of the dark Crane appeared.

"Speak, Munashi," Kashrak said sharply.

"Are you busy?" Munashi asked, raising an eyebrow at Kashrak's tone.

"It can wait," the Naga snarled. "What do you want?"

"It is time," the Crane said. "We are ready for the summons."

"Already?" Kashrak asked. "I had thought tomorrow was the agreed time."

"Have we not waited long enough?" the Crane cackled.

Kashrak sighed. "I still had plans," the Naga said. "I will miss this city."

"There will be other cities," Munashi replied. "This one has to die. Now. Iuchiban was defeated for being too patient. We will not make the same error."

"I suppose you are right," the Naga said. "I will be on the roof in ten minutes. Will you be prepared?"

"I am always prepared," the Crane said. His image vanished from the puddle.

Kashrak looked off in the direction Chobu had gone, his trail still fresh to the Naga's tongue. He shrugged. Chobu would die with the rest of the city. If not, Kashrak would find him.

A pained squeal drew the Naga's attention. He looked down at the still living goblin, burned, disemboweled, bleeding. Kashrak smiled.

"Hold on just a bit longer, little one," he whispered gently. "I promise you, what is about to happen will be well worth seeing."

The light was completely blinding. Even with his eyes closed, Mojo could see the glare burning through his eyelids. He held one hand on the wall of the stairwell, placing one after the other and listening for the sound of Takao in front of him. As bright as the pit had become, there was no heat, only the glare. Mojo wondered what could possibly cast such a radiance.

"Come now, Phoenix," Takao laughed as if reading his thoughts. "Surely you can guess what makes such a light? A Shiba grows up with the spirit of such things. It calls to you. Do you not hear its song?"

Mojo paused, then said the answer. "Magic," he said. "It's pure magic. We are close to the kami's world."

"And its guardian," Takao replied. "Follow."

The continued down the stairs. Mojo felt a low rumble rise from the earth, causing the stairs to vibrate beneath his feet. It accompanied the odd breathing sensation that filled the stairwell. Mojo realized it was not a tremor at all, but a low, menacing growl.

"INKARA JUKRAYTUS MOKTHAR, UT TAKAO," roared a savage voice, echoing as much in Mojo's thoughts as in his ears.

"No, Zesh," Takao replied. "We have not recovered the mask."

"INKARA MOTHOTAR JIGOKU, UT TAKAO!" the voice growled more insistently. "AKKANIS THUNDER, TAKAO!"

"I know, my friend," Takao said calmly. "But there is nothing we can do, yet. For now, a friend has come to visit. A Phoenix. He has come to seek your help."

"GRAYJUS KANETHEIRUS, PHOENIX," the voice growled. "MUKRA SHINKO UT JIGOKU, PHOENIX."

Takao sighed. "Speak in Rokugani so that can understand you."

"WHAT DO I CARE IF HE UNDERSTANDS ME?" the voice answered with a snarl. "HE CAN GO TO JIGOKU FOR ALL I CARE."

"He is already headed there, Zesh," Takao said. "Do you not wish to save him?"

"WHY SHOULD I?" the voice answered. "NO ONE EVER CARED TO SAVE ME."

"Now, you know that is not true, my friend," Takao said patiently.

"YOU ARE NOT MY FRIEND," the voice snapped. "I HAVE NO FRIENDS. I AM ALONE." A rattle of heavy chains sounded through the stairwell, followed by a long, tormented groan and the sound of something heavy bashing repeatedly against solid stone.

Mojo couldn't take it any longer. He opened his eyes.

For a moment, the glare burned, driving a searing pain into his skull. A second later, the pain faded. Mojo could see once more, but the vision was different. Takao stood at his side, a figure sculpted of shadowy darkness. The stairs had become a slowly undulating mass of half-slumbering spirits. The air swarmed with glittering, sparkling lights. At the bottom of the pit, the stairs ended in a great circular chamber.

The light radiated from the center of the chamber, where a great egg-shaped stone the size of a small automobile rested. A quarter of it broken away, and the sparkling spirits and bright light emanated from the fracture. Behind the stone sat an enormous creature, but the details of its form were difficult to perceive. Mojo could make out fiercely burning red eyes, great wings, and massive arms bound to the floor in chains of jade, but that was all. The creature was staring right at him.

"THE PHOENIX IS BRAVE ENOUGH TO SEE?" the creature asked, narrowing its eyes at Mojo.

"This one is special," Takao replied. "This one can bring the Oracles to balance."

"DOES IT MATTER ANYMORE?" the beast rumbled, scraping its long claws through ancient gouges on the stone floor. "THE DAY OF THUNDER COMES. VANQUISH THE ORACLES IF YOU WILL, BUT ALL SHALL BE DECIDED ONE WAY OR ANOTHER BY THE LAST THUNDER. EVEN SHOULD YOU WIN, EVEN SHOULD YOU RECOVER EVERY LAST SHARD, EVEN SHOULD YOU FIND THE MASK AND BRING IT BACK WHERE IT BELONGS, YOUR WORLD WILL STILL BE CONSUMED IN AN ETERNITY OF DARKNESS BY THE FAILURE OF ONE MAN. DOES IT NOT BOTHER YOU THAT YOUR CENTURIES OF WORK AMOUNT TO NOTHING, KOLAT?"

"If we surrender meekly, then we guarantee that it was all for nothing," the monk replied. "We cannot afford to falter."

"SPOKEN LIKE A MORTAL," the creature cackled, its laughter sending ripples through the sparkling dance of spirits. "ALWAYS FIGHTING, ALWAYS RACING. ALWAYS SPEEDING FORWARD FOR WHAT YOU BELIEVE IS 'GOOD.' IN THE END, NONE OF IT MATTERS, TAKAO. THERE IS NO GOOD. JIGOKU COMES FOR US ALL."

"You do not truly believe that," Takao said quietly. "After all you have seen, you of all souls must know that there is always hope."

"QUITE THE OPPOSITE," the creature said. "THERE IS ALWAYS FARTHER TO FALL. YOU ARE NOT THE ONE IN CHAINS."

"Why did you bring me here, Takao?" Mojo said, interrupting the conversation with a disdainful sneer. "To hear some lumbering beast pity itself? What purpose does this serve?"

The creature turned to Mojo again. The Shiba could hear the sound of great teeth grinding against one another. "CAREFUL WITH YOUR TONGUE, PHOENIX," it said. "THESE CHAINS DO NOT BIND ME AS TIGHTLY AS TAKAO THINKS."

"Mojo, I recommend you curb your temper-" Washi Takao said carefully.

"If you want me to be silent, then do something about it," Mojo replied, cutting off the monk with a gesture. "I'm sick of posturing Oracles and secretive kolat monks and now a gigantic behemoth who expects me to be impressed by a celestial case of manic depression. Takao said you could help me. If you can, do so. If you can't bother yourself to try, then fine. Sit there in your chains and rest assured that you're just as useless as you believe yourself to be. One way or another, I am leaving." Mojo turned and headed back up the stairs.

"WAIT," the creature said.

Mojo looked back over his shoulder.

"YES," the beast said, its eyes widening as it stared into Shiba Mojo's soul. "AFTER SO LONG, I HAD BEGUN TO DESPAIR..."

"What are you babbling about?" Mojo snapped.

"EXACTLY THAT," the creature stabbed a single finger at Mojo. "THE ROKUGANI CLAIM TO BE A BRAVE PEOPLE, BUT THEY DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT BRAVERY MEANS. TAKAO, LEAVE US."

The monk looked at the creature with some amount of surprise, then looked up at Mojo. He nodded, then advanced up the stairs, stopping to speak in the yojimbo's ear.

"Careful, Mojo-san," the monk whispered. "Zesh is a very powerful creature. He is ultimately an ally, but his existence is... complex. Trust him, but not too far."

"And should I trust you?" Mojo whispered back.

"Find out," Takao said, and continued up the stairs.

The creature chuckled darkly as Takao vanished from sight. "THE KOLAT, WITH THEIR SECRETS. THE SAMURAI, WITH THEIR FOOLISH BRAVADO. THE ZOKUJIN WITH THEIR MINDLESS ETERNAL PATIENCE. THEY ARE ALL WRONG..."

"Zokujin?" Mojo said, confused. "What do they-"

"NONE OF THIS MEANS ANYTHING!!!" the creature thundered. "BRAVERY IS NOT A LACK OF FEAR, OR AN ACCEPTANCE OF WHAT MUST BE DONE. BRAVERY IS A REALIZATION THAT YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN FINISH THE BATTLE, THE KNOWLEDGE THAT YOU CAN DEPEND UPON NO ONE BUT YOURSELF. WHEN THE TRUE TEST COMES, WE ALL MUST FACE IT ALONE. YOU HAVE LEARNED THIS, PHOENIX. YOU ARE TRULY ALONE."

Mojo just watched the creature carefully, waiting, not moving.

"DID THE ONI TEACH YOU THIS, SHIBA?" it asked. "DID AKERU TEACH YOU ABOUT BRAVERY WHEN HE TOOK YOUR NAME AND DEFILED IT? WHEN HE CAST YOU ASIDE LIKE SO MANY OTHERS BECAUSE YOU WERE NOT WORTH HIS TIME TO CORRUPT?"

"Are you going to help me or not?" Mojo asked again.

"NO," the beast replied. "I WILL ASSIST YOU, YES. I SHALL GIVE YOU A GREAT WEAPON AND I SHALL TELL YOU WHAT TO DO WITH IT, BUT THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN HELP YOU IS YOURSELF. ARE YOU PREPARED TO DO WHAT MUST BE DONE, PHOENIX?"

"I do not know," Mojo replied. "Tell me what I have to do."

"THE BEST ANSWER," the creature replied. "COME CLOSER, PHOENIX..."

Pekkle was dirty.

The little oni frowned at its hand, wiping the goo on its kimono. It looked around, burped, and peered up at the ratty apartment building. A shudder ran through the universe, and Pekkle laughed.

Somebody was coming to visit.

The little oni set down what it was working on and turned around, skipping toward the building where it had left it's Friend. It stopped and looked up at the sky.

The sky was full of stars, even though the sun was up. The moon was moving backwards. The clouds were starting to cry. Most normal people wouldn't see things that way, but then most normal people weren't Pekkle. Pekkle was special.

A single shooting star burned through the heavens.

Pekkle giggled. It knew exactly what these sort of portents meant.

Pekkle had seen them twice before.

Pekkle was so excited!

It hurried into the building to see who was coming, huffing and puffing as it drove its little body up the stairs of the abandoned apartment. It hurried to the roof. The winds were whipping into a frenzy.

In the middle of the roof, Pekkle's Friend stood with a crooked Senpet knife in one hand, drawing the blade against his forearm. The winds tore the old man's blue and orange robes around his skinny little body, but Pekkle's Friend didn't notice. He had fallen into a deep state of concentration, drawing up the power around him, focusing it into the blood. Pekkle giggled again. Pekkle's Friend looked like he could fall over any second, that a good push would knock him over.

That wasn't true. Pekkle's Friend was a lot stronger than he looked. Just like Pekkle. That's why they made such good friends. The surface of the roof glowed dimly around them, lit with the bloody kanji Pekkle and its siblings had been drawing up here for weeks. Pekkle looked over to one of the other buildings with glee. Sure enough, there was another Crane shugenja on that one, too, chanting right along with Pekkle's Friend. It ran across the roof and looked to the other side. In that direction, Pekkle saw another Crane, doing the same thing. They were all out tonight. How fun!

Eighteen buildings. Pretty circle around the nasty city. Big, big summoning circle for a big, big oni! Pekkle remembered Iuchiban, tried to do the same thing.

Iuchiban didn't like Pekkle.

Iuchiban was stupid.

Iuchiban died.

Still, it was a good try. Pekkle's Friend was so happy when Pekkle told him about Iuchiban's plan! Now Pekkle's Friend was going to finish it. That was good. Pekkle didn't like the city. Pekkle wanted the city to be smashed, but was too little to do it by itself.

Pekkle ran over to its Friend's side and looked up with a smile. Pekkle's Friend was still in the midst of chanting the pretty maho song, but he returned the oni's smile. He finished the last few verses of the dark sutra and looked down, placing one withered hand on Pekkle's head.

"It's coming, Pekkle," Pekkle's Friend said. "You know that, don't you?"

Pekkle nodded. It could feel the tear widen Jigoku. The dark power swelled as something very large made its way to Ningen-do, the world of mortals. Whatever was coming to the city was big. Very big! Once it got here, the hole to Jigoku would be bigger. Then all sorts of friends could come to play in the city. Pekkle looked up at its friend questioningly.

"No, little one, it's not Akuma," Pekkle's friend said. "Maybe next time."

Pekkle was confused. Who else had such a big name?

Pekkle's friend sat down by Pekkle's side, rested his other hand on its shoulder. "You know as well as I do," Munashi said. "An oni isn't real until it steals a name. That's why you were so little and weak when I found you. I fixed your name when we hired those Phoenix to kill Meda's sister. Do you remember? They painted the walls with your name. It was on the television for weeks. Now your name is very, very strong."

Pekkle nodded and giggled. Pekkle's Friend was so nice.

"Well, this one has a very special name," Pekkle's Friend said. "A very special name indeed."

Pekkle frowned curiously. It was a smart little oni, but it didn't understand.

"Of course you don't understand," Pekkle's Friend said. "Your world is outside the politics of the Empire. That's why you're lucky to have me."

Pekkle still didn't understand. Something rumbled toward the center of the city. Pekkle wanted to look, but it wanted to understand, first.

"Do you remember Iuchiban, and what you told me about him?" Pekkle's Friend asked.

Pekkle nodded, but wasn't sure if it remembered right. Pekkle forgot things sometimes.

"Iuchiban was the Emperor's brother," Munashi said. "Iuchiban was a Hantei, a brother of the Emperor. He was going to give an oni the Hantei name. Do you know why?"

Pekkle shook its head.

"Well, to the people of Rokugan, the Emperor of Rokugan is the Empire," Pekkle's Friend said. "There's really no difference. They're the same thing. Even though the Emperors aren't descended from the kami anymore, they're still tied to the whole Empire."

Pekkle smiled. It thought maybe it had figured it out.

"Do you remember our friend, the Emperor?" Pekkle's Friend asked.

Pekkle nodded vigorously. Pekkle liked the Emperor. The Emperor was silly.

"Imagine an oni with our friend the Emperor's name, itself," Pekkle's Friend continued. "An oni like that would be as powerful as the whole Empire. Wouldn't it?" Pekkle's Friend smiled, a wicked, evil, sneaky smile.

Pekkle giggled.

The power of Jigoku opened in the mortal realm as it had not in over a century. The crack was sudden, shocking, and few felt it in Otosan Uchi, the Asako who tended the Great Seal knew immediately that something was wrong. They felt in that instant that their century of labor had been undone. The Festering Pit of Jigoku was about to open once more.

On the highest spire of the Diamond Palace, a single figure stood against the darkness. The darkness laughed.

She was only a woman.

She was ancient and senile. Her robes were ill-fitting and she needed a cane to walk.

Her name was Ranbe Yuya, and she was a Mantis. She knew that something was wrong. She heard the darkness laugh at her, and she laughed right back.

For years, she had known. She could feel something building in the city. She knew that something was hunting the Imperial Family, using its own curse as a weapon against it. When she looked into the Emperor's eyes of late, she knew that it would not be long until the day came when she would be tested. The day she became Jade Champion, she had allowed herself to become weak. She should not have let down her guard. She should not have rested for an instant.

Now she stood atop the highest spire of the Diamond Palace, and sensed the evil homing in on the Mantis Clan. She could feel the dark summoning, feel the dark pit that was opening in Jigoku.

"No," she whispered, and lightning flashed in the sky. "I will not allow this. I will not."

She held an ancient oaken staff in both hands, holding it toward the wind. In her youth, when she first realized that the darkness had set its sights upon the Diamond Throne, she had doubted the power of the Fortunes. She had challenged Osano Wo's power, demanded that the Thunderer step forward to save the clan that he had once protected.

In the next instant, a bolt of lightning had struck the tree Yuya stood beside. A bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky. Yuya was in a coma for weeks, and the tree was completely burnt save a single shaft of wood. She called it the Shard of the Thunderer. It seemed to be a simple affectation, an item with no power, but Yuya knew that there was indeed a powerful purpose within the shard. That purpose had come now.

The sky was full of stars, even though the sun was up. Reality was coming undone.

Waves of darkness trickled through the ether on all sides, set upon the Diamond Palace.

"You will not take him!" Yuya cried, brandishing the staff. Lightning hammered down from the sky, fighting back the darkness. The darkness moved around the lightning and kept coming.

The moon tracked backwards through the sky as the crack between Ningen-do and Jigoku widened.

"You cannot have the Emperor!" Yuya cried. "You cannot take him!"

The clouds roiled and rain began to fall in sheets. The rain carried the power of Water, tearing at the darkness. The darkness would not be held back. It fought on through the rain, moving inexorably toward the Palace.

A single shooting star burned through the heavens, burning like a dragon's tail.

Yuya knew the portents. She knew there was little she could do. The darkness began to seep into the walls of the Palace. The Emperor was doomed. It was his destiny, and there was nothing she could do to save him.

Yuya never cared much for destiny.

"YOU WILL NOT TAKE HIM!" she roared. She held the Shard of the Thunderer high in both hands and brought it down hard on the roof of the Palace. The staff cracked the tile roof, lodging deep in the surface of the building. The Palace shuddered like a thing alive.

The darkness laughed again. Steel spikes erupted from the surface of the roof, stabbing Yuya through the leg, through the stomach. She screamed and tore the oaken staff free again, brandishing it above her head.

"YOU WILL NOT WIN!" she cried and brought the staff down again, hammering it into the same hole she had made before.

Another steel spike erupted from the roof, stabbing the old woman through the heart.

She pulled the staff free one more time. She could feel her life trickling away, the blood streaming down her tattered robes. She was already dead, her soul just hadn't let go. Not yet. She rose the staff a final time.

"YORITOMO!" she shouted, and brought the staff down a final time. The air burst with the fires of the storm as lightning streamed down from the sky, obliterating Ranbe Yuya and sending the full fury of the storm into the oaken staff and through the small crack the old woman had made.

When all was said and done, nothing seemed much different.

The darkness continued seeping into the Palace.

The Emperor of Rokugan dropped to his knees, katana tumbling from his hands. He stared in horror as his sister flickered in and out of existence. "My sister..." he said, the growl in his voice almost vanishing entirely, "Ryosei, what have I done?"

"She's all right, Your Highness," Saigo said, still aiming the pistol directly at him. "She's here."

Ryosei stepped out of the shadows behind the prophet. The other Ryosei, the illusion summoned by Saigo, flickered and disappeared. Saigo wiped the sweat off his brow; he wasn't very good at magic and wasn't used to using so much of it at once.

"Kameru," Ryosei said. "It's all right, I'm here."

He looked up at her, eyes full of pain. "They would have killed you," he said, rising to one knee. "I would have killed you. Damn it what did that Crane do to me?"

"Your Highness, take off the mask," Saigo said. "Take off the mask." The Emperor shook his head and stood. His hands balled into fists. "I can't take it off," he said. "I've been trying. Every time I try, the pain gets worse. It's part of me."

"Then at least kick that sword over here," Saigo said. "You can do that, can't you?"

The Emperor looked at the prophet, and his eyes were suddenly clear. "No," he said calmly. He bowed to pick up the blade, considering its edge and returning it to his belt. "Yashin and I have an agreement. The sword is no longer the problem. The Stormbreaker is the problem."

"Kameru," Ryosei said patiently, standing next to Saigo. "Who is the Stormbreaker? Do you know?"

The Emperor nodded. "But it doesn't matter," he said. "The Stormbreaker isn't the threat. I'm the real threat. They've turned me into some kind of monster. You heard that speech I gave. Half the time I'm ready to help them destroy the world! I don't know how much longer I can fight them, Ryosei. I'm getting weaker." He looked at Saigo, his eyes full of hope. "Phoenix," he said. "Shoot me. This end right here, right now. Whatever they're planning, it all has to do with me. Shoot me and let's end this."

Saigo aimed the pistol.

"Kameru, no!" Ryosei shouted.

"Damn it, Isawa, shoot me!" the Emperor shouted. "As the Emperor of Rokugan, I command it!"

Saigo looked doubtful. "No," he said, lowering the gun. "Your future is hazy, but I'm sure this isn't it."

"Then DIE!" the Emperor roared. Yashin leapt into his hand with a metallic hum. He lunged across the room, chopping at Saigo with the blade. Saigo fell backward, and Yashin severed the barrel of the pistol. Kameru lifted the blade again and Saigo rolled to one side. The bloodsword buried itself deeply in the marble floor. Saigo kicked the Emperor soundly in the face. His head snapped back, but the cracked mask showed no signs of damage. The Emperor smiled, seized Saigo by the leg, and hurled him across the office. The prophet hit the wall solidly with his back. The Emperor's jaw hung open as he breathed raggedly, like a rabid animal. He stalked toward the fallen prophet, but Ryosei stepped into his path.

"Kameru, stop!" she said, drawing a knife and pointing it at him.

"You won't hurt me," the Emperor replied, his voice a strange mixture of growls, echoes, and mechanical feedback. "Get out of my way." He reached out to shove her as he kept walking.

Ryosei stabbed him.

The Emperor glanced down in surprise at the knife buried between his ribs. He snatched Ryosei's arm roughly and pulled, drawing the blade free. Blood covered the blade and streamed down his torso. He seized the knife in his other hand by the blade, tore it from her hand, and bludgeoned his sister across the face with its handle. She did not scream, but fell back on the floor beside Saigo, glaring up at him in pain and betrayal.

"You should have run when you had the chance," the Emperor roared in his strange voice. "Kameru is gone." He took another step toward them, but staggered. He blinked, staring about himself as if uncertain of his surroundings. "What did... what did you do?" he mumbled, reaching up and scratching at the edge of his mempo with one hand. The Emperor tried to take another step toward them, but fell backward, leaning heavily against a column. He slid to the floor, staring at them both with glazed eyes.

"Ryosei?" Saigo groaned as she helped him to his feet. "Is he dead?"

"No, I sedated him," she said picking up her knife and showing it to him.

Saigo stared at the bloody knife, then at the fallen form of her brother. "Wow," he said. "You're meaner than you look."

"That's my family," she nodded. She moved to her brother's side and knelt, looking down at him with concern. "We have to get him out of here."

"What?" Saigo exclaimed. "There's no way we'll sneak the Emperor past the Imperial Guard. Not to mention the small fact that he's psychotic! He just tried to kill both of us!"

"That wasn't Kameru," she said, looking up at him. "You said it yourself, there's someone else in here. There's still hope, Saigo. We have to try."

Saigo sighed, hands on his hips. "This is insane," he said. "This is impossible."

"As impossible as surviving Tsuruchi Kyo and the Diamond Falls?" she said, steel in her voice.

Saigo looked down at her. "I didn't forget," he said. "That's why I didn't say 'no,' yet. This is just me complaining."

"Then shut up and help me," she said, grabbing one of his arms, "He's heavy."

Saigo stepped forward, but faltered as a tremor shook the Palace. "What was that?" he said, glancing around.

"I don't know," Ryosei replied. "Let's hurry."

Saigo nodded. He took the Emperor's other arm and they hoisted him to his feet. Kameru was a large man, and hung like dead weight between them. They struggled to get him to the door, then collapsed. Another tremor shook the Palace. "This isn't working," Saigo said. "He weighs more than both of us put together."

"He took after dad's side of the family," Ryosei answered with a nod. She glanced around the office, looking for some way to carry him. Nothing offered itself. A third tremor shook the office, worse than the others. The floor bucked and cracked beneath them.

"What's going on?" Saigo asked, "Earthquake?"

The door of the Emperor's office opened. Tsuruchi Shinden stood at the door, looking at them both in surprise.

"Shinden!" Ryosei shouted. "Help us get the Emperor out of here!"

Shinden glanced at the wound on the Emperor's abdomen, then glanced at Ryosei. Another earth-shaking tremor bucked the Palace. He ran to the Emperor's side without a word, pushing Ryosei out of the way and easily helping Saigo lift his weight.

"Should have taken my side, Wasp" Saigo grumbled as they moved for the door. "She's a lot stronger than I am."

"Shut up, Phoenix," Shinden snarled back. "We have to get out of here, now!"

Another tremor ran through the Palace. A sudden stream of cracks ran through the hallway and walls before them. A ceiling tile fell to the floor and shattered. Wires burst from the wall, snaked about like a living tentacle, then slithered back to their place. A strange, monstrous roar suddenly echoed through the bowels of the Palace.

"Jigoku," Ryosei cursed. "It's like the Palace is coming to life!"

They ran. A startled Imperial Guardsman stumbled around the corner at the end of the hall. Another tremor shook the Palace and wires burst from the wall behind the Guardsman. They coiled around his arms and legs, tearing him limb from limb before he could scream. The roar echoed again, trailing off into a sinister laugh.

"This way!" Ryosei said, leading down another hallway.

They ran faster. The Palace began to shake, and they were tossed into the wall. They had all seen earthquakes before, but this was unlike anything. The floor was tilted at an odd angle, and something seemed to be moving through the walls.

"The Palace is coming to life," Saigo said.

"There's... there's something I need to say," Shinden said.

"It can wait!" Ryosei shouted, dodging aside as wires nearly snared her leg. "Keep running!" She led them down the hall.

A dull buzz echoed through the walls. The lights flashed once and went out as the electricity died. Saigo spoke a quick spell and a small ball of flame appeared above his head. The prophet peered up at it curiously as it danced back and forth above his head.

"What is it?" Ryosei asked.

"The spirit is afraid," Saigo said. "I've never seen a fire spirit afraid of anything."

"So keep running," Ryosei said. The floor bucked beneath them and a chilling roar bubbled up from somewhere in the bowels of the palace. It sounded like some enormous beast in terrible pain, or in terrible fury.

"This is important," Shinden said. "I have to tell you."

"Fine," Saigo said, still running as they struggled to carry the unconscious Emperor. "What is it?"

The Wasp's mouth worked awkwardly, but he said nothing as Hoshi Jack's curse stole his words again. Saigo ignored him and kept running.

"Ryosei, do you have any idea where we're going?" Saigo shouted.

Ryosei glanced down two hallways, then pointed down the left one. "Right there," she shouted at a large metal door. The walls were twisted around it, and the door itself had buckled. "I don't think it will open."

"It'll open," Shinden said. He drew a pistol and fired three times, obliterating both the hinges and the lock. Setting the Emperor on the floor, the Wasp charged forward and kicked savagely, knocking the door inward.

"Good thing we found that guy," Saigo mumbled, dragging the Emperor through the door. The four of them rushed through just as the hall collapsed behind them. Glancing back, Saigo thought it almost seemed as if the walls were twisting and chewing against one another, like the stomach of some huge creature.

"Saigo, keep moving!" Ryosei shouted. "Shinden, help him!"

The Wasp grabbed the Emperor's other arm and hoisted. Saigo turned to look where he was going and his eyes widened. The four of them had entered some sort of huge hangar. The walls were twisting, tearing, and warping as much as the rest of the Palace. A half dozen Imperial Helicopters were smashed to pieces by falling debris or spikes jutting from the floor. One vehicle stood untouched in the center of the room.

The Crescent Moon.

"Ryosei, how-" Saigo began.

"I had the Imperial Guard bring it in for repairs," she shouted as they ran for the hovercraft. "I figure it saved my life once, maybe it could come in handy."

"I love you," Saigo shouted over the din of exploding stone and twisting metal.

She looked back and smiled just as a metal spike burst from the ground, stabbing through Saigo's right calf. He screamed and collapsed. A sound like laughter echoed through the hangar.

"Saigo!" Ryosei shouted, running to his side. The little fire spirit bobbed back and forth toward the Crescent Moon as if eager to leave. Shinden looked at them both in shock, uncertain what to do.

"Get my brother to the Moon!" she hissed, grunting in pain as she wrapped Saigo's arm around her shoulders. The Wasp nodded and hurried off.

"Leave me," Saigo groaned. "You guys don't need me. I was only fake lifting anyway."

"Quiet stupid," Ryosei whispered back as they began staggering toward the Moon. "I'm not leaving you. Besides, you're the only one that can fly the Moon." She smirked up at him.

"Good to know my usefulness is not yet at an end," he groaned back.

She pulled him aside just as another pair of spikes erupted from the floor. "Not yet," she said.

"What's going on?" Tsuruchi Shinden shouted from the doorway of the Moon. He had already loaded the Emperor inside and was hurrying back to help them. "It's like the Palace is coming alive!"

"Good guess," Saigo said as the Wasp took his other arm. "I think that's what's happening."

They hurried into the crew compartment. The floor of the hangar became a spider-web of cracks and the Moon lurched to one side, the floor crumbling beneath its landing gear. Ryosei, Shinden, and Saigo were tossed against one wall. Shinden hit his temple hard against the control panel and collapsed. Saigo staggered forward and fell into the pilot seat, strapping himself in. Ryosei screamed and slipped as the floor bucked again. She disappeared into the aft compartments with a yelp.

"Are you all right?" Saigo shouted back.

"Just get us out of here!" she replied.

Saigo nodded and closed his eyes, concentrating. He felt drained from the magic he had used earlier, and his leg still burned with the pain of his wound. He could hardly gather himself together for a coherent thought, much less to seize control of the Moon.

"Tsuke-sama, if you're still out there," the prophet whispered. "I could use your help right about now." He surrendered his mind to the void and reached out for the Moon.

The hovercraft's engines suddenly roared to life. Saigo could feel his presence through the entire vehicle. He could feel Shinden unconscious in the cockpit. He sensed the Emperor strapped in back in the crew compartment. He could feel Ryosei digging herself out of a pile of life preservers in the rear. He could feel the steel and wire tentacles of the Palace clawing in through the open crew compartment, reaching for the body of the Emperor.

He closed that.

The door slid shut with a hiss, neatly severing the probing tentacles. An angry roar filled the hangar. Saigo winced as metal spikes jammed through the hull, trying to keep the vehicle from escaping. Saigo put all his power into the engines. The Moon roared with an intensity to match the Palace. It took to the air. Before he even realized what he was doing, the hovercraft had rocketed through the wall of the hangar at full speed. Steel and concrete exploded around them, and the Palace screamed in pain and fury.

The Crescent Moon leaped into the sky, a trail of thick white smoke following in its wake. Beneath them, Saigo saw the structure of the Diamond Palace warp and twist. The highest spires had transformed into an enormous insectoid head, and its eyes were fixed upon him. A jagged claw as large as an office building erupted from the surface of the Palace, aimed at the fleeing Moon. Saigo turned the vehicle in mid-air, looping out of the way and escaping the grasp of the impossible monster beneath him. He poured more power into the engines, and they were gone.

They were free

Ichiro Chobu took a deep breath. The air tasted good. He hadn't realized how good air tasted. Nice, normal, clean air. He had only been in the sewers of Downtown for five days, but they'd left quite a mark on his memory. Worse than anything else was the smell. The whole thing smelled... well, it smelled damned evil.

Funny thing about evil. Before running into Kashrak, Chobu had considered himself fairly evil. Now, he wasn't so sure.

Chobu remembered a time back in college - the few months or so before he dropped out - when he'd gone to a bar with his friends and drank a little too much cheap Senpet beer. That was the night they ran into Kuni Hojo, a professional boxer from the Seeker circuit. Chobu had lost four hundred hyakurai betting it on Hojo the week before, and lost. Chobu was mad, and Chobu was drunk. Chobu had figured that if an Usagi could take out Hojo, then he could too.

Words were exchanged. Chobu woke up unconscious in an alley picking splinters of the bar out of his ears. Chobu had considered himself a pretty good fighter before that night. Hojo had schooled him the difference between a professional and a talented amateur.

That was how Chobu felt about Kashrak.

Not as if Chobu had seen the error of his ways or anything like that, but if Jigoku was full of monsters like Kashrak, he'd think twice before ending up there.

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he continued down the street. His left hand smashed into a crumpled piece of paper. The right collided with a cold cylinder of crystal. Chobu drew both items out and looked down at them. The left hand held the crumpled scroll he had stolen from the Phoenix library near the Seal, the scroll of oni summoning. The right hand held the jade and crystal nunchaku he had found in Kashrak's sewers. What in Jigoku had either of those things been doing where he found them?

His rash started to itch again, the one on the left side of his neck, the one he'd picked up while in Kashrak's tunnel.

He felt the scroll shudder in the wind. There wasn't any wind. Chobu realized with a start that there wasn't any breeze; the scroll was trying to pull itself away from the nunchaku, shuddering at the presence of the jade, crystal, and mystical kanji. Out of curiosity, Chobu touched the weapon to the scroll. It jumped in his hand and burst into flames. Chobu let the scrap of paper go and it blew away. In a moment, it had burnt into nothing.

"Good riddance," he growled.

His neck itched again. Out of curiosity, Chobu pressed the cold staff of the nunchaku against the rash. The itching stopped immediately, and when Chobu pressed his fingers to the spot the rough bumps were gone. Cured.

"Well, that settles it," he said out loud. "I'm turning my life around. I've always been a jerk and it's gotten me nothing but no friends, a rap sheet, and some weird Shadowlands STD. I do one good thing warding up that behemoth's lair, and somebody gives me a magic nunchaku. I just don't see how this can be a difficult decision for some people." He did a few test flips with the nunchaku, clubbing himself in the forehead once.

"Ow," he winced and rubbed his forehead, then glanced around quickly to make sure no one had seen. He put the weapon back in his coat.

Where would he go now? He couldn't go back to Tetsugi, he won't be happy about what I did to his credit card. Never liked playing his puppet anyway. Sure as Jigoku ain't going back to Kashrak. He could hang around in the city and take a shot at the Emperor, but it just didn't feel right. For one thing, it was the wrong Emperor, and for another an Imperial assassination would shoot his quest to better himself to Jigoku. Literally.

The best thing to do would be to get out of town. Not only were the Wasps and the Shinjo still looking for him (doubly so since Heichi Tetsugi got his last credit balance) but Yoritomo VII was about to bring the combined wrath of the world down on the capitol. If there was anyplace in the world he didn't want to be right now, it was Otosan Uchi. He'd blown all his hyakurai (Tetsugi's hyakurai) getting that Soshi to give him the hookup with Kashrak. He'd need some money. That liquor store on the corner...

No. If he was going to be a good person, he'd probably have to stop robbing liquor stores.

Being a good person wasn't going to be easy.

Suddenly, a rumble passed through the street beneath Chobu's feet. Chobu glanced around, then stepped into the middle of the street. There were a lot of earthquakes up in Badger territory, and he was used to dealing with them. Get away from buildings. Stand where there's nothing over your head, and nothing can fall on you.

Chobu looked up and saw a highway.

"Damnit," he grumbled. "In Otosan Uchi, there's always something ready to fall on you."

He kept moving. He had heard the usual legends that the Isawa and the Kaiu had built the city to be resistant to earthquakes, but he didn't buy it. Chobu had seen the earth split open, swallow a car, and close back up again back home. There was no way to be ready for something like that.

Another rumble passed through the street. Chobu looked around curiously, staring at the road. There was something wrong. This didn't feel like any earthquake he had ever seen. He crouched and cast a simple spell, reaching out to the spirits in the street. They were a bit slow in answering, but then asphalt always was. Asphalt was the retarded abused child of Earth spirits - it didn't talk very much and when it did it just thought you were going to set it on fire and break it to pieces again. This spirit didn't seem to want to talk to Chobu at all.

"That's funny," he said. "You sure are jumping around enough. Say something to me."

The street said nothing. Another tremor passed by. That was definitely strange. Earth spirits never slept through an earthquake. Earth spirits were the earthquake. It would be like a rock band falling asleep during the concert. Chobu glanced around again. Nothing seemed to be out of place. The streets weren't cracking. The highways weren't swaying. The Diamond Palace still glittered in the distance, next to Shinjo Tower.

Chobu blinked. The Diamond Palace was supposed to be miles away from Shinjo Tower.

And it was usually taller.

Another tremor passed, and Chobu saw the Palace move.

Then Chobu noticed the enormous, mantis-like claws that pulled the Palace forward. That wasn't the Diamond Palace. It was a three hundred foot tall creature made of iron, stone, and glass.

"Seven Thunders," the Badger swore. He could feel the nunchaku suddenly heat up in the pocket of his coat.

The Diamond Palace took another step, threw back it's head, and roared. "YORITOMO!" it's voice thundered through the city, shattering windows, setting off burglar alarms, and deafening Chobu though he was nearly a mile away.

The creature shuffled forward toward the bright spires of Shinjo Tower. The constantly searching spotlights lit the early morning sky, blazing into the creature's face. It continued, unaffected, and reared back its massive claws, hooking them into either side of the building with the screech of tearing metal and exploding stone. It reared back and pushed. The upper levels of Shinjo Tower simply fell off.

As soon as he worked up the courage to stand, Ichiro Chobu found his feet and ran. Moments later, a raucous cry of thunder and cloud of black dust exploded through the city, covering even Chobu though he was miles away. Sirens and burglar alarms started going off all over town.

"YORITOMO!" Oni no Yoritomo screeched once more. It backed up to push the tower again.

Chobu just kept running, and didn't look back.

TO BE CONTINUED