"[Shiba Shingo] wonders as each Elemental Master falls to the seductive power of the Black Scrolls, and wonders if a phoenix drowned in poisoned waters can be born again." - The High Histories of the Lion, the Clan Wars Saga

Since the first rising of Iuchiban, scant centuries after the dawn of the Empire, proper funerals have included cremation of the deceased. It was a practical measure, since even a novice student of maho can raise the dead, and if corpses were left around, it would compromise the security of the Empire.

It was widely accepted, and minimally enforced, as the custom made it's way into the hearts of samurai everywhere. Poets wrote about the burning of the corpse in flowering haiku and prose, and bards finished their stories with the cremation of the protagonist.

However, in recent years, the lowest class of Rokugani, the unclean eta, had begun a disdain for that practice. They saw the practice not as security, but as a form of samurai tyranny, and yet another form of control. The eta felt that burial, rather than cremation was a sign of small rebellion, and took heart in the fact that they proved to themselves that the samurai did not control them utterly.

In their haste to reject the samurai, they forgot to ask if cremation served any practical purpose.

The Oni Overlord Shikibu and all of his spawn had the power to inhabit dead bodies, human and otherwise. Seizing the opportunity provided by the foolish eta, Shikibu slipped into a corpse. Finding it to his liking, he summoned his spawn into the eta corpses, as they lay in the dirt. Though there were not enough corpses, that was not a problem. Shikibu had no trouble killing each of the hundreds of eta he saw. When the Shikibu legion was fully corporealized, and his desire to kill was sated for the moment, the Overlord began to march on the palace, and his true target - the Emperor.

From the eta quarter, a legion of zombies marched, and the Imperial Guard met them just outside the Palace of Otosan-Uchi. They holstered their guns for swords, and prepared to decapitate the march of evil. Fearless in their hearts, and recalling their lessons, they stood before the walking dead, prepared to destroy the zombies.

Even had there been no further interference, they would not have succeeded. These were not zombies, but Oni inhabiting corpses; far stronger, and much more difficult to kill.

From the sky, the leader of the Guardsmen heard his name called. As he turned to look up, Seppun Kiyoshi saw a gaijin descend from the sky. In truth, however, the creature floating down was no gaijin, but the newly created Oni no Boukyaku, the self-styled 'demon of memory'.

"Seppun-sama, I am here to assist in the battle that will be waged here," the gaijin announced.

"We need no assistance from a gaijin." Seppun Kiyoshi sneered.

"Gaijin?" The foreigner seemed confused. "Oh, yes, this form." He looked down at his body and smiled. "I am not a gaijin. I am an Oni." The odd staccato accent unnerved Kiyoshi. "But you do not know what that word means, do you?" The Oni looked at Kiyoshi with a confident grin on his face. His powers of memory were already fast at work, his victory neatly assured. The looks from the assembled guardsmen were that of shock, surprise, and doom at the appearance of this new Oni. But from Kiyoshi, nothing. Even the Shikibu legion paused at that.

Kiyoshi paused briefly. He'd heard it before, he thought. It seemed like something he should know. Whatever it meant, this gaijin-looking thing, this 'oni', was in his way. Shaking off the momentary distraction, he began to speak "By the orders of Emperor." but his voice trailed off. He could not recall the name of his lord, the Shining Prince. Somehow, he knew it was the fault of the man in front of him. Snarling, Seppun Kiyoshi charged the man, his sword drawn, and prepared to swing.

Yet he could not remember how. The blade swung clumsily, without skill behind it. The Oni sidestepped the blow effortlessly, and brought a fist down upon the human's back, knocking him to the ground.

Loudly proclaiming to all assembled, the Oni stepped one foot on the man's back, pinning him to the ground. "I have bested this man in combat. His body destroyed, his name worthless, and his mind is mine." With that announcement, the Oni put more pressure on Seppun Kiyoshi's spine, and with a loud snap, he was no more.

The Guardsmen charged, but to no avail. They were doomed. Shikibu smiled a fearsome smile, and his legions surged forward.

For the first time since the war began, Yasuki Punu greeted the sun as it rose in the sky. He stood, facing east, and let the rays of the dawn warm his body. Peace, tranquility, all those thoughts sang through his mind, and for a brief instant, he expected Yamahime to slide her strong arms around him and hold him close.

His daydream shattered as he saw his daughter lying in her bed, looking so peaceful. Sleep erases all wounds, he thought. Surely, this war would be over soon, and he could return to Stalwart Sunrise. Matsuro would come home, and Shiniko would return to health.

Health. She was sick.

In two quick steps he was at her side, and gently put his hand to her head to feel her temperature. It had gone down somewhat, but was still dangerously high. An old heimin woman named Chizu was living in a neighboring house. She had offered her medical skills, and after some foul smelling tea, Shiniko's symptoms seemed to subside.

Her pallor had not improved, though. She was still ashen, and there was nothing he could do about that. The old woman had assured him that was supposed to happen, and, oddly, he trusted her judgment.

Shiniko opened her eyes and smiled. She seemed stronger, if not more healthy. "Daddy, guess who I saw?" she asked.

"Who did you see?" he asked. Please, Fortunes, don't let it be.

"I saw Mommy. She looked sad, but I told her that she shouldn't feel bad," Shiniko said matter-of-factly.

"Why is that, Shiniko-chan?" Punu asked.

"I'm going to see her soon, Daddy. That's what Chizu said last night."

Punu's heart skipped a beat, and he remained silent for three more heartbeats. "She was joking with you, sweetie. Heimin don't always understand humor well."

Shiniko's eyes hardened, and she stared right into her father's eyes. "No, Father. She was right." She looked around the room, and continued to talk. "I don't know why, but she said I wasn't supposed to be here. She said a few words I didn't know. She said that it was your 'destiny' and I was supposed to be with Mommy."

"Shiniko."

"Daddy, I'm not supposed to be here," she said. She coughed, and it was a strong cough. Blood splattered on the sheet in front of her mouth. "I have to go. She is a nice woman, and I think she's a kami."

Children saw kami everywhere, but rarely do the kami speak back to them, he thought. Surely she must be delirious. "Shiniko, you aren't going anywhere," he told his daughter, but she wasn't listening any longer. She couldn't listen any longer.

Punu clenched his fist. For the first time, he felt rage. He felt violated and angry, and a score of emotions he had no words for. Most of all, he felt lost.

He ran outside, taking his daisho only as an afterthought. He ran down the muddy street, crying. He thought of everything he ever told her, everything he ever planned for her, and the life she almost had. The husband she never loved flashed into his mind, and the children she never had brought tears to his eyes.

He ran through the refugee camp, and further beyond that. After a while, he tripped, and fell down, into the mud. As he lay there, too exhausted to do anything but feel pain, his thoughts returned to coherency. He was a governor by trade and a merchant by schooling. His wife fought as a soldier, and she died honorably. His son was a soldier, and Hida only knew what happened to him. His daughter was an innocent, much like himself, and she was cut down by a cruel twist of fate. He knew what he had to do, and he knew where he could turn.

On some level, he wasn't certain of his decision. What he was about to do flew in the face of everything he ever stood for. Yet. he was a Crab, and he would summon that heritage in his next, likely his last, challenge.

He stumbled into a war camp, and the orange of the armor told him it was a Lion camp. The carp on his shoulder was caked in mud along with the rest of his person. Stumbling to the largest tent, he walked inside without a second thought. "I n-need to join. the Deathseekers. My family is gone. I have nothing l-left."

In war, all able bodied recruits are accepted.

"Who am I?" Nakira shouted into the unending blackness. "I am Shiba? I am Nakira? I am all of these but none are myself?"

The darkness began to speak from all around him. The voice was a soothing male voice, echoing throughout the eternity around him. "We are Shiba, we are Nakira, and we are also you. You have struggled against us long enough, my son, my self. It is time to embrace who we are. Only then will we be whole."

"I don't understand," Nakira spoke, more softly. "Are we one being? Are you a delusion of mine?"

"Partly," the darkness whispered back. "But soon, it will not matter. Awaken, Nakira Shiba."

Nakira sat up suddenly. He was still in his prison room, and he was drenched in sweat. His pink tee shirt was soaked, and it stuck to his body in an undignified manner. Looking to the corner, he saw Ofushkai embedded in the wall to the hilt. His sword should not be treated in that way, he thought, and in thinking so, the sword slid itself out, and floated gently into his hand. He caressed the sword, and whispered to it, "You are the noise we hear. Would Tsukune do that to you? I think not."

He stood up, using Ofushkai, the Phoenix Clan Sword to support him. Almost immediately after he awoke, the steel door opened, and a large man walked in. The man carried a tray of rice and sushi, with a pleasantly aromatic tea. The man's eyes widened as he saw Nakira standing with his sword, and nervously put the tray down.

"What is your name, boy?" Nakira asked. The man managed to stutter out his name, "H-hizun, sama. My name is Hizun."

Nakira nodded, and Hizun backed out of the room. As the door began to close, Nakira stepped forward. "Hizun, how many souls do you have?" he asked.

Although Hizun was taller and far more muscular, although he was behind a nine inch thick steel door, he was still intimidated by the soft strength of the Phoenix Champion's voice.

"I asked you, boy, how many souls you have. They want to know." Nakira began raising his voice, until he was shouting at the top of his lungs. "TELL ME, I AM YOUR CHAMPION AND WE NEED TO KNOW! COME IN HERE, BOY!"

Hizun, still too nervous to speak, opened the door and walked inside, obeying his Champion. Mustering all the courage he had ever known, he managed to speak. "Wuh.. wuh. One, Shiba-sama."

"Join me, then." In an instant, Ofushkai cleaved the man in two, sliced down the center of his body. The two halves of the corpse Hizun hit the ground at separate times, and some part of Nakira felt remorse.

I am Shiba Toriiko. What you have done is wrong. Dismiss the sword, Nakira, before you get yourself into trouble.

He quickly dismissed those feelings of weakness. He ran through the open door, down the hall.

"Takige, are you certain of this?"

"He's killed once already. Dangerously unstable. Even I can't understand his thoughts."

"You've cleared this with the other Masters?"

"Long before I called you, Yaokuro."

There was a pause, and then "Very well. Takige, you may proceed. May the Fortunes forgive us for what we do today."

"This is the right thing."

"It better be."

Nakira was trapped. He had turned a corner, and found himself boxed in. Three men on each side. He trembled, unsure of his actions. He knew only that he needed to get away. Something was coming. Something big. He turned around, looking at all his oppressors.

"Stay backstaybackstayawayfromme!" he cried out. He dropped into a kenjutsu pose, one he learned two thousand years earlier.

The men edged closer. They needed to immobilize him, but none of them wished to face death in this manner. The six men and Nakira stood motionless for several heartbeats.

The sweat on Nakira's brow was dripping down in his face. His grip was slick with his own sweat, and he wanted to shower. Badly.

Suddenly, a soft breeze blew throw the corridor, and a young man appeared.

Isawa Takige waved his hand, and the men standing around Nakira left, all breathing a great sigh of relief. Nakira turned to face the new arrival. "You. Takige? Is that you?" asked Nakira, almost pleading. For a brief moment, he seemed lucid.

"Yes, Nakira-sama. Everything will be all right," Takige lied. The words slid off his tongue sweetly and easily.

"Takige, Takige, my friend." Nakira lowered his sword. "They're all around me. They're telling me that I need to get away." He walked to the Master of Air, still holding his sword.

"No, no. I came to take you home. Sheathe your sword, and I'll take you home." Takige smiled.

Nakira drew back at that. Sensing further apprehension, and not wanting to prolong this despicable duty further, Takige raised his voice. "Nakira-sama, you must return home. We need your help. Your daughter is missing."

"My.. daughter? Saija? Saija is in danger?" Nakira whispered, eyes staring at nothing.

Takige hesitated, then said "Konyo. Your daughter is Konyo. Nakira, we need to go right now."

The mention of Konyo's name brought Nakira back to lucidity. "Konyo? I haven 't spoken to her in days, and she doesn't want me around anyway. I know that much," said Nakira. He let himself fall into a sitting position, and the sword Ofushkai slipped to the floor, clattering noisily with the impact.

"For the breath and soul of the Phoenix, Shiba, understand!" Magic flowed from Takige's mind into Nakira's, and Nakira's eyes widened. Takige drew his wakizashi, and Nakira began to cry as he understood what was to happen. The tears mixed with the sweat, and the resulting mixture fell to the ground between Shiba Nakira's legs.

"I'm sorry. Nakira, my friend, I truly am," Takige whispered. "Sleep, Shiba. Feel no pain." As he raised his sword, Nakira fell backwards onto the floor. A thousand thoughts flew through the Master of Air's mind, reasons for the murder of his Champion, memories of time spent with him, and the sanctity destroyed here.

The sword descended, and in one clean stroke, Nakira was gone.

All around him, Takige felt an old, powerful soul. Through tears, he whispered his heartfelt apology to the Kami. He felt no approval, and a vague disturbing feeling. The feeling did not pass, however, while the Soul flew to its new host.

Looking mournfully at Nakira's body, he whispered a prayer to the kami, and bent over. Already unclean and dishonored, he picked up the body of his friend. Another few words to the sky, and a portal opened.

Takige walked into the Way carrying Nakira's corpse. When he emerged, he was in the courtyard of Kyuden Isawa. A funeral pyre was already prepared for this solemn occasion.

Reverently, Takige placed Nakira's body on the pyre, and it was lit by a murmur from Isawa Hiroto.

During the ceremony, nobody spoke. They were all hoping they chose the right course of action, and that the Soul would return to help them soon.

They waited for Konyo.

Floating free, without light or darkness, Konyo drifted. The gray formless mists of Jigoku swallowed her years ago, and she had been alone for a thousand days. Curled in a fetal position, drifting without the luxury of gravity, she existed.

Time was strange, and as she thought of her imprisonment, another month passed.

Three years later, she heard a voice. Hokori, the Master of Earth. Last year, yesterday, an hour ago, she and he were taken. Taken? By what?

Darkness? Taken by darkness. The. wisps of darkness. they were spirits. Spirits had taken her.

"Konyo-chan, you can open your eyes now," he said. She opened her eyes, and as another minute passed, her vision was overwhelmed by the sheer nothingness, and the spiritual vacuum they drifted in.

He was standing(on what?) with a mark of Earth traced on the ground(what ground?). A sphere of crackling energy surrounded them, and he was reaching his arm out over the vast distance to touch her. Looking around, she straightened herself out. It was a dark room she was in, and the sphere of Hokori's magic was the only thing between them and the dozens of cackling, moaning, wailing spirits.

"Konyo, are you all right?" asked Hokori.

"I. think so," she responded as she collected herself. "Yes, Hokori-sama. I am fine. At least, for now."

"Good. I'd hate to think you gave into the madness so quickly."

"Quickly? We've been here for-" she snapped.

"Two minutes, Konyo." He sighed, a wearied look on his face. He looked older and fatter than ever. "Two minutes for me, who knows how long for you?"

"Years." she said, trailing off. "What do we do now?"

"I'm not sure we can do anything, in truth. We can wait for the Council to try to rescue us. or we stay here for eternity."

"Eternity." She sounded skeptical.

"In Jigoku, we are merely souls. You think that's air you're breathing? You think this room is real? What you see and feel, this simply how your will and soul interprets this place."

She remained silent, knowing this was not a problem she could solve.

He smiled a cheerful, hollow smile. "Don't worry. If we choose to die, we don't have far to go."

"Choose to die?" she asked, bewildered.

With that, Hokori's form twisted, and it became like all the other faceless spirits floating around her, for the ward was now gone, and they were all around her. Binding her, confining her, caressing her, mutilating her, torturing her. A soft voice hissed in her ear, "We can help you end thiss. sssuffering. All we want is your naaame."

She screamed in pain and desperation, and she summoned all her will to defend herself.

It held the demon spirits at bay for a while, but her defenses were crumbling fast. She spoke a word, a single word, in prayer to the kami.

And. her prayers were answered. Swiftly and smoothly, she felt a soul join with her own. She began to glow with a divine radiance, and the demons fell back, in awe and terror. It whispered to her, this new soul.

I am Shiba Nakira. You, my daughter, are the Champion now. Suffer not as I did, and leave this horrid place to take your rightful place at the fore of the clan. Our strength is needed now, more than ever.

His voice seemed so clear, and resonated deep within her soul. Somehow, she knew he was right. Standing tall, she walked calmly, along a path of sheer will to the vortex she entered in.

She saw the hole in the world, the eye that would dilate to allow her to return home. Her heart surged with joy at the thought of escape.

And that was how she was caught. Forgetting her defenses for just a moment, the spirits without name or face slipped in and stole something from her, something more powerful, more important than she could afford to lose.

The Oni stole her name. When the hole opened, and Shiba Konyo returned to the land of the living, a spirit stole away with her, invisible and intangible.

The sunlight danced across the twin faces of Shiba Konyo and Oni no Konyo as they emerged.

"This is the end, isn't it? The end of all we are?" asked the Malekish. The dark green of the deep forest surrounded the three Naga as they spoke in the heart of the Constrictor city of Iyotisha.

The Lord Vedic, the Abalasha shook his head. "The Akasha may live on, but we ourselves are damned." Malekish glared at the Vedic, who did not pause. "The darkness you feel is the brother of this one, the Syakesh."

A large Cobra stood in front of the Malekish, tail coiled and head down, in shame. Mutations showed on the Syakesh's body, most notably it's barely noticeable hood. The scales were the mottled green of the Constrictors, though in the dim light, it was difficult to tell. The size of the Naga, Malekish noted, and drew the obvious conclusion. An abomination, he realized, and shuddered. Two bloodlines, by Atman it was unholy. He could feel the Akasha urging him to recoil from the unfortunate creature in front of him, but held fast.

The Abalasha continued, "They were twins, Malekish. The same egg hatched two of the People. You know how rare that is." Malekish nodded, and the Vedic continued. "It is so rare that it has happened only five times in memory, and that is including the birth of the Eyes of the Atman. The birth of these two was no accident. The soul they had was an old soul, only recently reborn."

Malekish shuddered. He had an inkling of what the Abalasha was going to say, and it was not something the astrologer wanted to hear. Abalasha continued without pause, "The Vedics who maintained the barrier protecting us from the Shahismael-" The mention of that name instilled panic in the Malekish, and the audience grew yet more troubling. The Shahismael was once the leader of the Asp, but was imprisoned in a soul-prison outside the Akasha for bloodlust and slaughter of other Naga. The rage of the Shahismael was said to be so strong, it would drive the Akasha itself mad if it were released. "-produced some startling information. The Shahismael was repentant of it's crimes. It truly wished to be reborn and cleansed."

Malekish frowned. He harbored doubts and suspicion, and he was certain he was not alone... though he could not sense the reactions of the others. Such a being should be exterminated, to not pollute the Akasha in the future. Dangers great and unknown would befall the People should the first warlord be released and reborn.

After a meaningful pause, Abalasha continued. "The Shahismael had repented of it's crimes. The madness had left it, after almost three thousand years of imprisonment. To begin the rehabilitation, we split the soul in two, and steered it to be born as twins, to better keep track of it. That was our great mistake. The composition of the soul is not the only thing that tells us who we are. I myself have part of the Oseuth's soul in me, but I do not act as he did. The mind is a powerful thing, and most unfortunately, the mind of this one's brother is evil. He drew upon the magic of the body, and fled to the Shadowlands, swearing vengeance and loathing."

"He is a wound in the Great Akasha now, and he is the Kashrak in this new life. His proximity to the forces of the Foul are slowly corrupting him further, allowing him to burst the ritual of pearl and jade, the only thing that keeps us pure. The Ashlim is leading a force to recover his body before he destroys us all. Alive or no, he needs to be returned to us."

Malekish was silent, as he allowed the impact of the Abalasha's words to sink in. If the Vedics could allow such an atrocity. if they could violate the trust placed in them by the Akasha and every individual Naga. such a thing was too horrible a thought. To be betrayed by the Vedic.

As quickly as he could, he slithered out of the room. Refusing to allow tears to come, his mind whirled with possibilities. He could inform the Akasha, but the simple fact that he hadn't already known what was going on indicated that the damage had begun. Reaching out with his shared soul, he felt the presence of other Naga. and the connection was fading already. The damage had begun.

As Malekish got in his car, he thought of a world without the Naga. Unsurprisingly, he could barely conceive of such a thing. Perhaps the Nezumi would .disappear less. The Crab forces on the Wall would be weakened. The Shishomen would return to the silence of the Great Sleep.

And it could not be altered. Could not be avoided. Nothing he could do or say would prevent this catastrophe.

Malekish returned to his home in Nirukti, and without thinking, without feeling, coiled in his home. He wrote a note on the wall, and then numb and in shock, he drifted away. In the peace of sleep, he didn't think of the pain or the future. For the first time, he felt no premonitions. The Vedic's mistake ensured that, as the wound - the Kashrak's hate - spread. He slept for years, not feeling, not caring, hardly being.

On the wall was the cryptic message, "I will awaken for the Cure."

Such began the Third Burning of the Land, and the Akasha retreated.

YogoTech, Incorporated was the largest corporation in Rokugan. It was located in a large five building complex just six li south of Shiro Yogo and each building was used for it's optimal purpose. The first, and smallest building was the office where the bureaucratic managers worked. The second, largest building was the factory, where the until recently priceless tetsukami were mass produced. The third and fourth were laboratories, and in them toiled hundreds of workers, trying to design the next great product.

The fifth, however, was not used at all. It was a small bring building in the center of the complex, and was under lock and key at all times. Huge wards against intruders were carved into the walls, and the power of the wards prevented even dust and wind from impacting the walls. The ancient warding magic of the Yogo was put to full effect guarding it, and as a result, it was avoided by almost every employee.

Yogo Hacharui, the man responsible for the recent success in the field of tetsukami, was one of the few the ward allowed to pass through unhindered. On this day, however, he did not journey alone. His young and beautiful colleague, Iuchi Arumiko, accompanied him, her arm and his locked around each other. To the casual eye, they could have seemed to be lovers, but the vast age gap between the two made it an unlikely proposition. Not that either of them would have minded, but neither of them had acted upon their interest, and over the course of a few years, blossomed into a deep platonic love instead.

They walked wordlessly through the ward, and entered a hall that appeared to be the same as any other in the complex, with its bulletin boards, offices, and glass doors. They remained silent even as Hacharui unlocked a set of double doors, and walked in, Arumiko in tow.

What she saw was staggering. A large pulsing ball of dark purple light, six feet across with energy crackling around its edges hung in the center of the room. Just below it, a metal disc with various kanji set, inlayed in the tiled floor.

"This. I can feel the energy coming from this thing. It's amazing!" exclaimed Arumiko. She began to walk towards it, one arm outstretched, to touch it.

"It is, at that." Seeing that she was about to ask him to identify the ball of energy, he continued. "That is your third power source, Arumiko-chan. I created it four years ago, with a team of Isawa scientists, when we discovered the process of binding spirits to metal. The others dismissed it as nonsense, but I saw the potential... Well, I'm sure you've heard the story a thousand times. Suffice it to say that this is what makes YogoTech possible. The mass production of tetsukami is only possible with this energy supporting it, working in tandem. This tetsukami energy flows all through Rokugan, and not a ken-an beyond it's borders. It also happens to be an incredible secret, one that you are now entrusted with. You do understand what that means, right?"

Arumiko, still facing the energy globe and away from Hacharui, spoke almost flippantly. "Of course, Hacharui. I know full well the consequences of betrayal." He knew that she spoke truth, too. He had told her of the dreaded Traitor's Grove the year before, and she remembered it still. "But. what happens if something were to happen to this thing? Without this power, the mass produced items wouldn't function any longer."

"Think about the tens of thousands of suits of tetsukami armor we have in use at the moment. Imagine all of them, now. Without the spirits inside, they're just steel and iron. Oni and zombies can rip through iron. The military losses alone are staggering, and that's not even considering the other clans' soldiers," Hacharui warned.

Arumiko took a deep breath, and turned away from the energy. Walking towards Hacharui, she mouthed two words to him. He saw what they were, and was not surprised. 'Big Mistake'. He agreed. If something were to happen to this building. but that was simply an argument for more defense at this location.

That evening, Yogo Hacharui phoned Bayushi Yamato, the Scorpion Clan Champion, and requested more soldiers stationed at the YogoTech complex.

Kakita Noru was not a happy man. Ever since the Shikibu army invaded, he and the other emergency workers had been flooded with calls for aid. Three hundred in a single hour, with ten alert teams on call. People all over the city were dying, Oni were running rampant, and the Palace itself was being attacked.

And he was called to an investigation because a tax collector's apartment had been broken into.

Otosan-Uchi, the father city of the Empire, was under siege and he wasn't even called to battle. Such a waste.

As he climbed the stairs to the third floor apartment, he and his men checked their equipment. By keeping to a standard procedure, being ready for anything, morale was sustained. The other four men signaled their readiness. Noru drew his katana. Nodding to his men, one of them kicked the door with sufficient force to knock it open. He walked in, on guard for anything.

The scene he saw shocked him. The victim, Miya Sanon, lay on the floor twitching. Next to him, a mutilated gaijin corpse was sprawled on a blood-stained table A pile of dust lay near Sanon, in a disturbingly humanoid shape. The window was smashed and a cool breeze blew through the room.

"Noru-sama!" announced the team's shugenja, Asahina Chikai. "The Taint, it's unbelievably high in this room. The thing that broke in. it must have been one of those Oni."

Noru nodded. Waving to Sanon's gibbering form, he instructed his men to carry Sanon. "Get him to a hospital, now!" As the four other men obeyed their commander, the Crane studied the apartment further. Looking through all the doors, he saw that no other rooms were disturbed, and that valuables lay in plain sight. He walked to Sanon's bedroom dresser, and saw a small plastic card on it. Picking it up, he read the title of the scrollcard. 'Touch of Decay,' it read. Noru paused, then enlightenment dawned.

"Ma-" he tried to say, but his soul was sucked out of this body, and he collapsed to the floor, lifeless.

Outside the building, the four men heard a loud explosion and saw a bright flash of fire as the building collapsed. As the team scrambled to get away from the falling debris to safety, Chikai felt tears well up inside him. He had been a close friend of Noru, but he swallowed hard and ordered "Let's go. There's nothing more we can do except get Sanon-sama to Asako Medical, as ordered." It was an emergency situation, and he had no time to mourn. Later, he told himself. Later.

In the van, Sanon slowly regained his focus. Sitting up, he asked groggily "What's happening? What's going on?"

Chikai put his hand on Sanon's shoulder. "You are safe, Sanon-sama. You were attacked in your apartment, but we got you out just in time. You did get Tainted, however, and I need you to drink this tea so you can get better."

Sanon merely looked ahead. "Who am I?"

Chikai sighed. "Your name is Miya Sanon. You are a tax collector for the Imperial Revenue Service. My name is Asahina Chikai, and I'm going to take you to a hospital, where you will be well treated."

"Asahina?" Sanon asked, still dazed.

"Yes, Asahina." Chikai nodded.

"C-crane. I'm safe, then?" Sanon whispered, his strength fading.

"Yes, Sama. You are safe. Rest now," Chikai said, but Sanon was already asleep.

While Sanon slept, Chikai tended to his wounds, both physical and spiritual. The bruises healed easily, but the Taint was another matter. Chikai poured a small dose of a rare and expensive tea down Sanon's throat, hoping that his suffering would be alleviated. He was rewarded with a new prognosis. The Taint was subsiding down to the minimal, incurable level that many in the Empire suffered from.

And in Sanon's body, the soul of Asahina Yajinden howled silently in pain.

The cavalry had arrived, and it was effective. Thirty thousand Scorpion elite troops had arrived at Twilight Point, the current base of operations for the counter-invasion. With their tetsukami armor and weaponry, they were as a wave rolling over the land, clearing all Shadowlands creatures. Oni and goblin alike were smashed, beaten, and burned until there was nothing left. Together with the Lion, Crab, and a small assortment from each other clan, the mighty Scorpion armies were saving the day. Rokugani soldiers encroached closer to the Festering Pit each day.

At least, the Scorpion propaganda said that.

The truth of the matter was that the Scorpion were holding the line. The leaders of the Scorpion armies sent the lesser troops, the gaijin, to face the horrors of the deep Shadowlands. It was on the sweat, tears, and lives of those gaijin men that Rokugan was surviving.

Needless to say, it was galling to be treated that way. Lt. Asoth Hotep, recently promoted within the Senpet legions, seethed. He lost men every day; good friends sacrificed and forgotten on the altar of Rokugani pride.

But he fought on.

The Kuni Wastes were the current field of battle, and it was a particularly bloody battle. Somehow, guns didn't seem to work, and thus the human soldiers were vastly overrun by the physically superior Oni and zombies.

Hotep, assessing the situation from the back of his jeep, decided that this battle was a lost cause. Picking up his microphone, he barked orders to his men. "Fall back!" he ordered, "Tighten the formations!" Slowly, and with many casualties, the soldiers obeyed their commander.

An explosion rocked the jeep as a group of zombies managed to destroy a supply truck several yards away. The one Rokugani soldier under his command, the young and inexperienced Yasuki Matsuro, did his best to ignore it and concentrate on the job at hand. Though he had been in several battles, and played a crucial role in most, he still became nervous on the front lines. It wasn't a fear of death, more like a habit of hesitation. Because of this, and Matsuro's keen mind and fresh perspective, Hotep had Matsuro stay with him during larger battles to assist with the strategy.

"We can regroup here, just over those hills," Matsuro said, pointing to a nearby location on a map of the area.

"That's the plan." Hotep watched in silence at the battle, still raging. The first loss since his arrival, and he was not pleased at all.

"Oh." Silence.

"The orders have been given. We wait."

"Waiting. This is what war's about. Waiting until we die," Matsuro mused. "I think I prefer the patrolling more."

Hotep smiled at the younger man. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off suddenly by an Oni falling from the sky. It had four arms, wings, and a tail. And very sharp claws. It mauled Hotep with a swipe of it's claws, knocking him to the ground, and out of the fight. Matsuro was not as fortunate, as the Oni devoted it's attention to him. The startled driver, hit the gas pedal, hoping to escape.

Hanging half over the side of the quickly-moving vehicle, Matsuro struggled with the Oni. It loomed over him, rage and hatred in it's eyes. In a quick-thinking move, he managed to lock it's arms to the side, and the demon snarled and hissed in frustration. He felt a growl rise in his throat, and he surged forward, hissing "Twenty million die" in the Oni's face. The demon fell back, hitting a steel bar with it's back. Growling back, it lunged at the young Crab, grabbing his arms with a pair of its own, and in an instant drove it's other arms into Matsuro's chest.

The Oni howled in victory, and hoisted the Yasuki's body above it's head. Confidently, it walked to the side of the jeep, crouching in preparation to fly away with it's trophy.

Three gunshots rang out from the other side of the jeep, and it fell over the edge, tumbling to the ground with Matsuro still in it's clutches.. The jeep, not slowing, passed it by.

Then, a huge flight of those demons darkened the sky. One of the flying Oni dove and plucked the Senpet from the jeep before it entered, and without stopping, soared back towards the Shadowlands.

Sometimes, an Oni will take a captive.

Nobody ever wants to see an Oni. They're vicious, evil, and almost universally cunning. And sometimes, they're really, really disgusting.

Hitomi Hatsuyoko crouched on a hill overlooking a seemingly innocuous heimin village, looking into one of the huts with a pair of borrowed binoculars. Otaku Nakano lay on the ground, peering at the village. Above and behind them, Hoshi Ki stood and watched the two.

In the central hut, she saw five Oni, slug-like in shape, surrounding a sixth, much larger Oni. That one, she knew, was the Overlord. All six of them were consuming vast amounts of rice, at an unearthly speed.

Nakano spoke, "They're eating all the food. That doesn't seem very diabolical. I usually expect more from Oni."

"Ki," Hatsuyoko began, "why is it that I'm the one who has to kill that thing?" She craned her head up and looked at Ki.

"Oh. if they eat all the food, there won't be any left for the rest of us," said Nakano answered his own question.

Ki sighed, and pointed to her chest. "You want me to kill it with those?" she asked. Nakano suppressed a grin. Ki buried his face in his palm and sighed again. Then, he placed his hand over his left breast.

"Oh, my heart. Right." Nakano groaned.

"And this is the right thing to do, Ki?" she asked, reassuring herself. Ki merely nodded.

Hatsuyoko closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and released it slowly. Opening her eyes, she saw Nakano, still looking at the hut. She stood up, ready to walk down and face the Oni Overlord, but found Nakano's hand over hers, pinning it to the ground.

"How can you walk down there so nonchalantly? I mean, no samurai is supposed to fear death, but." Nakano's voice trailed off.

Hatsuyoko stared Nakano in the eye, and said simply "This is my destiny. Either I succeed or fail, but I must this."

Nakano sighed. Quoting her daimyo again, she said "The path of the Dragon is never an easy one, but it is one that must be walked."

"Sure, sure, but you're not even preparing for the fight. It's as if you want to lose, or you're just supremely incompetent."

"You think like a gaijin, Unicorn," she snapped.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" he retorted. "You can't do this alone, without preparation, and without the right tools."

She looked at Ki, and said softly, "I have all the tools I need." With that, she walked down to the hut containing the Oni Overlord.

TO BE CONTINUED