Dark Crescendo
Chapter Three:
Calling the Storm

All relevant copyright information is on Chapter One.

***** Sicily, Rose’s compound, 9:14 a.m. *****

"Siobhan, Andy...does she always fight in...that?"

"Alas and alack, yes. And in this case, not because she was expecting the weather to warm up later today." Siobhan was looking towards Mai, now in her usual battle uniform, with resignation, as was Andy. Dudley, on the other hand, had an expression closer to distaste. Mai was responding with a quizzical look. "I’ve been trying for several years to get her to adopt something more practical. And, as usual, she only adopts something worthwhile for stealth missions. Whenever she wears that oddity and we object, she keeps saying something about ‘freedom of movement’." Siobhan gestured at her own outfit, which covered her entire body except her head. "I think I’ve got plenty of movement potential with this, though. I still haven’t decided what the other factor with Mai is--hedonism, vanity, rebellion, something..."

"Pride, maybe?" Mai chirped.

"Enough blades," Siobhan grumbled, "and the pride’s going to turn to embarrasment. Remember that when we finally find Garlon and Onyx, will you?"

"Siobhan, their swords won’t get anywhere near my outfit." Mai’s voice had suddenly turned quiet, and her face was expressionless. "They’ll be dead before they can even unsheathe them."

"No, no, no, Mai. I know how much you hate those two--Andrew and I share the same feelings, remember--but that’s not going to guarantee success. They’ve managed to kill in combat some fighters that would wipe out the three of us combined! Garlon came close to killing Gill, and he’s easily Mars-caliber."

"I don’t care..." Mai whispered. "For the murder of Yousai...for the way they murdered Yousai...I will do what I must..."

Concern had by now materialized on Dudley’s face. "Siobhan, I don’t mean to intrude on anything personal--"

"I think we can guess what you’re talking about." Andy shook his head sadly. "Garlon and the Onyx Samurai are a pair of assassins, the former specializing in poisons. And he includes allergies in his expertise. Just after I left the Shiranui-jo to find Geese Howard in Southtown, Garlon and Onyx evidently received a commission to kill Yousai–we thought Isawa Yasuhiro commissioned them at first, but we’re not so sure anymore. We don’t know how he did it, but Onyx enabled Garlon’s entry into the Shiranui-jo, and Garlon..." Andy’s face darkened with anger at the memory. "He knew that Yousai was violently allergic to thyme. So he put a quantity of thyme oil into as many foodstuffs as he could. It was enough to ensure that Yousai died that evening...as his throat swelled to suffocate him."

Dudley’s mind churned with shock. To be killed in such a horrible, ignominious way..."Yousai was someone close to her, then?"

"Yeah. Her twin brother. Her younger brother, Katsuda, didn’t take it well either. He became a bounty hunter as soon as he heard about Yousai’s death. His real purpose is to find and capture Onyx and Garlon, but he hasn’t succeeded yet..."

Dudley looked at Mai’s face as she talked with Siobhan. He could not understand what they were saying, since they were speaking in Gaelic--from what King had told him, Siobhan had taught Andy and Mai the language during their shinobi training--but the weird calm on Mai’s face spoke volumes. She’s still grieving for Yousai...and it won’t end until his killers are brought to justice...

I think I’d end up feeling like that if one of my siblings were murdered so foully...but not by so much. Being the eldest of my family, there was a time when I had no siblings. But until his death, Yousai and Mai would have been constant companions...

A distant whirr became audible from the southwest during this time. The four fighters looked in that direction automatically, although Dudley immediately knew what it was. The whirr grew louder as its source quickly closed the gap, and began to descend through the overcast sky...

"That’s our transport to Marstjällik?!" Mai’s eyes had widened with shock. Andy and Siobhan, too, were startled, although they were doing an admirable job of keeping their responses contained. They barely noticed King and Rose rushing outside, and the former also gawking at the Wyvern. "That thing’s the size of a destroyer!"

Indeed, the Wyvern gunship was much larger than any helicopter had a right to be. Even with its vertical rotor and three horizontal rotors, situated right, left, and center, the enormous chopper did not look like it should have been capable of extended flight. In less than a minute, the vehicle had come to hover within a few feet of the ground, and gone into whisper mode.

"It would appear our flight to Sweden is here." Dudley walked up to the Wyvern, which almost on cue released a rope ladder. "Shall we?"

Siobhan finally managed to get over her shock at the Wyvern’s sheer size and power. "Let’s go," she said as she beckoned towards the others with her hand and rushed to the ladder. "All aboard for the Anti-Orochi Express!"

***** Thien Mansion, grand hall, 9:15 a.m. *****

"Those two are supposed to help us?!"

"Yeah, Iori. You got a problem with that?"

Iori stared balefully at Kyo. "I’ve seen their records in the minor tournaments they’ve fought in, and their techniques. The only reason they did so well was the absolutely pathetic skill level of everyone else. HIBIKI DAN could have done away with them without effort!"

Chris glared at Iori as he insulted him and Shermie. Apparently, Iori was less than pleased with having to fight alongside any kind of rival, whether martial--like Kyo, or artistic--like Shermie. Fortunately, Shermie had not been paying attention to him, since she was still reeling from the revelation of her true nature by the Daughter of Kingu.

Leona and Chris were busy trying to get Shermie out of her shock, with no success whatsoever. Shermie was staring at her open palms, her eyes--when they could be seen--blasted with horror. "Yashiro…why?…who are we?"

Sighing, Leona turned away and shook her head. "I’m getting nowhere with her," she grumbled. "The way she is, you’d think someone had just murdered everyone she knew, and injected her with a slow poison." She turned back, this time to Chris, her eyes pleading. "Can’t you do anything about her? No offense, but her dolor is hounding me." Especially since she’s reminding me of when Goenitz decided to tell me who I was…the "rightful" Daughter of Hecate…

It’s kind of ironic...the whole reason I thought I could bring her around was because we both seem to be ready and waiting tools for Orochi...and want no part of that...

Chris said nothing as he looked around. Hunding and Clark had gone off into the mansion’s depths for who-knew-what weapons for a search party, the recently revived Varrius was talking with Chizuru, and Kyo and Iori were busy insulting each other. I think that mirror gate Chizuru...I think that’s what her name is...and Varrius created did something to their heads, or at least Iori’s. He isn’t usually this talkative, even when he’s badmouthing someone.

"I...I have no idea, Miss Heidern." Chris clutched at his wrists. "Right now, I want to know what Yashiro was doing with Shermie’s so-called original." Tears began to form at his eyes, which were looking at nothing in particular. "Why did he betray us like this? I know he thinks he’s protecting the world, but...why?"

Leona’s heart tightened as she watched Chris fold into his misery. This was only the second time she had seen him, and already she felt a profound empathy for him. Maybe because the first time around, he had been distressed also, just with abject terror, not horror and sorrow.

She shook her head sadly. She had the grim feeling that this boy’s life was going to be ravaged for a long time by Orochi’s influence on his friends...

"Come on, Chizuru, admit it." Varrius smiled at the Kagura as he played with a few wisps of light on his fingers. "You’re eager to have a chance to cream Orochi’s agents this early. Somehow, I know helping Iori and those two Jinns squash Goenitz wasn’t enough for you. I know a battle-pledged when I see one."

Chizuru raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. "I hope that’s not how you facilitated the mirror gate."

"Now, don’t take it too seriously, my dear. I mean, don’t you have enough problems keeping those two kids from killing each other?" Varrius concentrated a bit more on the wisps, finally getting them to form a free-spinning pentagonal pyramid. "Keeping my heart a little light is how I manage to put up with my most demanding superior. You...let’s see...you’ve got the Kyo/Iori summits, one or two well-hidden secrets...at least what that last one entails will keep you busy even if Orochi gets killed. The Seishukuu Tourou alone..."

Chizuru blinked a few times, trying to recover. "You...you know about my family’s...?" she gasped.

The pyramid blinked out of existence. "Chizuru, given my position, and my past history, how am I not going to know? That history’s how I knew I could trust in you and anybody you brought. Not just because we represent somewhat like-minded corporate giants, or that you’re a Yata."

"..." Chizuru, for once, was discomfited.

"Okay, people, listen up." Everyone, even Iori and Shermie, turned to Clark, who had entered the hall with a small cloth satchel, out of which a few strangely colored ribbons were emerging. "Mr. Thien’s prepared a Wyvern-class helicopter--which he says gives new meaning to the word ‘gunship’--to get us to Marstjällik. En route, we’ll be meeting another Wyvern, this one coming from Sicily. I believe you requisitioned that one, Mr. Cicolini?"

"Um, yes." Varrius nodded towards Clark. "I was originally calling up one of my old comrades-in-arms. As it turns out, I ended up getting five other warriors in the bargain, one of whom owes me a favor anyway. Anyway, we’ll need to meet up with that second gunship before we actually reach Marstjällik. The skies there will be swarming with tenma, most likely, so the second gunship will need to be pretty close to us to benefit from the Orochi repellent Mr. Steel has with him."

Iori glared at the ward satchel. It did not look particularly innocuous to him, and he had a pretty good idea why..."And how am I supposed to get on the Wyvern if the wards are there?"

"Wellll...they wouldn’t hurt a partial-blood like you. You’d have to be fully bound to repel you. In other words, either a true and faithful Marid, or a tenma. They will sting if you actually touch them, Iori, but that’s it."

"What...what about...?" Shermie’s still-present shock prevented her from getting more out.

"I don’t know...this is the first time we’ve had to deal with a clone of a Marid. But I’m pretty confident that you can board the Wyvern with no trouble."

"O...okay." Shermie sniffled, and resumed staring at the ground. "I...I just want to find out what happened..."

Varrius sighed quietly. Shermie’s depression was starting to get to him. She’d better not be like this when we reach Marstjällik.

Clark lifted one of the ribbons out of the bag, revealing the opal magatama attached to one end. "What do we do, just tie these wherever we can?" He looked into the bag. "Wait a minute...are you sure five wards are enough to protect one, let alone two, Wyverns?"

Varrius shrugged. "They’ll work fine if you keep them separate. If not for the fact he gets nauseous around them, Hunding would be protecting the compound with those, rather than relying on just the elementals. Anyway, once they’re separated, and tied to the gunship--yes, inside will do fine--the aura they project will be so wide, both choppers will be protected, as long as we’re at minimum safety proximity."

"Hm." Clark dropped the ward back into the satchel. "Are we going to carry these into Ralf’s prison, too?"

"I doubt they’d work there," Chizuru said. "My family has researched long and hard into the nature of the Orochi force. I can tell you that if you’re in one of the Marids’ shrines, no ward can possibly repel one of them or a tenma. The wards will prevent tenma from bringing us down in flames en route, but that’s all."

"No matter." Iori had raised his clenched fist a bit, which was already radiating violet fire. "As soon as the Marids draw my attention, I’ll burn them so well, you wouldn’t be able to fill a thimble with their ashes. I’ve been waiting to get my revenge for six months. NO ONE makes me lose control and--"

The sound of slow clapping interrupted Iori and darkened his mood further. "Nice to see you’ve kept your priorities straight for this long, Iori," Kyo smirked. "Maybe I should look into keeping a Marid alive for you to beat up on, instead of you trying to beat me up."

Iori wheeled on Kyo. "As I recall, my team managed to defeat yours last year!" He was totally unaware of the fact that most of the others were now more concerned with asking Clark and Varrius more questions on the mission’s logistics. Only Chris was still listening. Somehow, he was fascinated by these two.

"Yeah, but I still knocked you clear from fresh to knockout. I’ll admit you derailed Benimaru, and pounded me enough for Vice to beat me...but that’s it."

Iori quaked with anger at the memory of still being beaten by Kyo, unintentionally causing tendrils of fire to wave on his fingertips. Chris looked at the tendrils, interested in their independent motion. In their own way, they’re pretty...I wonder if Kyo or Hunding could make fire dance like th--

Chris stiffened and paled, as he remembered something Varrius had said...
‘...If not for the fact he gets nauseous around them, Hunding would be protecting the compound with those...’

Varrius had been talking about the wards. The anti-Orochi wards.

If they could sting Iori, who had a relatively weak level of Orochi taint...why would Hunding get nauseous around the wards...unless...

No...no...

Chris ran for where he had seen Hunding go just after Chizuru and her retinue had arrived. If he was right...

More reminders came to mind...A dim awareness of the Daughter of Kingu trying to get Hunding to join her...calling him a "traitor"...and the words Hunding had used...he could never be one of ‘them’, despite his origin...

...we’re kin...and Clark mistook me for the "Son of Moloch"...it can’t be...I can’t have Shermie’s problem, too!...

Chris finally found the room Hunding had mentioned the day before as being the "artefact repository"--where he kept all his magical items. Only now did Chris get an idea of its grandeur. The room was entirely panelled in walnut, with racks of magical weapons, armor, and staves occupying every interwindow space. Several closets promised more unusual talismans. The far wall was occupied by some sort of shrine...

...where Hunding was standing, tightening the ties of a simple, black cloth cloak. A silver chain with a plain disk was around his neck, and a longsword and his wand were at his waist. He had put on a tunic and trousers, both dull red. He noticed Chris’s entry, and turned to see him more clearly...

Isee...Hunding exhaled a sigh. He’s worked it out, most likely. "Chris...Are you here because of...our nature?" Chris nodded mutely. Hunding closed his eyes. "I’m sorry, but...we didn’t think it was a good idea to reveal your true nature. We were worried about how Yashiro would react if we did so. Our decision was to confront Yashiro first, and decide again whether or not to tell you afterwards."

"Uncle...I...I’m not angry at you about that." A hundredth of a smile formed on Chris’s downturned face. "What reason would we have had to believe you? But...what the Daughter of Kingu asked you..." As he looked up, Chris’s face became one of pleading. "Uncle...you were once an Orochi?"

Hunding sank down a little, resting his hand on the shrine. "Yes...that’s how I was born. But occasionally, a Marid is born without his mind totally in Orochi’s thrall. I was just such a child. After it became clear to my parents that I could not be ‘saved’, I was abandoned during an attack on a psionicist enclave in Cyprus. They didn’t know that some of those psionicists would rescue me, and help me keep my Marid nature from ever surging up." He turned his gaze to the two figures on the shrine. One was of a huge Japanese man with unruly white hair, wielding a no-dachi in his crossed arms. The other was of a red-haired boy, not much older than Chris, it seemed, armed with both a sword and...an umbrella? "I’ve been rescuing ‘imperfect’ and renegade Marids--or, as my non-beloved kin call them, Jinns--ever since. To that end, I studied sorcery, and began to develop spells to imitate my kin’s powers. In fact, those powers I used against you last night...those are in imitation of your original’s abilities."

"My...original’s?" Alarm started to form on Chris’s face. "Then...were the assassins--"

"No. The assassins were sent by someone who wants to see your originals dead. He just mistook you for them." Hunding returned his gaze to Chris. "Regardless of what Urien had in mind for you, our real threats are now the Heavenly Kings. Knowing Varrius, he assumed you and Shermie would accompany him and the others...but I will not make the same assumption." He took a deep breath, then looked Chris in the eye. "Chris...are you willing to come with us to Marstjällik? I do not doubt that your originals are ready to fight...and if they are, they will certainly seek a fight to the death."

As Hunding waited for a response, Chris wrapped his arms about himself and shivered, trying to figure out what to do. This sounds like it’s going to be much worse than the Amakusa Islands incident. I only had one enemy there, now I’ll have probably three to deal with--four if Yashiro fights with them...

...but I doubt he will. Chris uncrossed his arms as a calm filled him. He definitely wasn’t agreeing with the Daughter of Kingu. Between Yashiro’s misery from the Daughter’s actions, and her callousness, there’s only one conclusion I can think of.

He’s a prisoner of the Kings, like Clark’s friend, but also in some parts of their beliefs. And if we don’t rescue him from his error, how will we ever learn the entire truth?

Besides, I’m hardly going to be the only one there...

"I’ll...I’ll go with you. It’s the only way I’ll ever learn everything about my origins..." He held back a shudder. "...horrific as they are."

"Chris...don’t worry." Hunding knelt a little and put his arm on Chris’s shoulder. "Varrius and I are convinced that despite the way you were created, you won’t suffer the same malevolent impulses your originals do...at least, not because of your origins. Your ‘taint’--if it can even be called that--is so slight that you are essentially normal human beings, your martial arts notwithstanding. More importantly, you have the free will that the Marids hate so much. You really have nothing to fear."

"Thank you, Uncle..." Chris was silent for a few moments, then became rigid. "Wait. What did you mean by a taint?"

Hunding winced. I guess I don’t have a choice in this. "As far as Varrius and I can tell, you, Yashiro, and Shermie were created as a kind of ki conductor. Anything with the Orochi trace--even the small amount you have--absorbs radiant ki naturally. The Heavenly Kings need a lot of ki to break the Shinji seal that holds Orochi in its prison. The KOF tournament would be their best opportunity to get the ki, but they couldn’t attend in person, lest they be detected by anyone or anything sensitive to Orochi presence--a Kusanagi, a Yasakani, a Yata, a Satsui, et cetera. Therefore..." A final sigh. "...they must have created you three specifically to soak up the ki, without setting off anyone’s alarms, since your trace wouldn’t be strong enough. Then, they’d have air or sound tenma cart the absorbed ki to one of their shrines. Yashiro’s extra purpose, we think, was to ensure that the tenma could actually get the ki--the tenma couldn’t deal with you and Shermie, after all--and to head off any investigation." As Hunding finished speaking, Chris’s eyes became unfocussed. He then crumpled to a kneel, his entire body shaking with horror.

"No...no..." he whispered, "they created life...they created us...just to bring back their god...a god they’ve somehow gotten Yashiro to believe is the good guy..." Chris raised his head, his eyes filled with rage. The rage was so intense that Hunding involuntarily took a step back, even as his mind registered that the rage wasn’t directed at him. "I won’t...forgive their...atrocity...even if Orochi thinks it’s saving the world...

"...all they’re doing is manipulating us, manipulating Yashiro...what kind of salvation is that? I think they want to subjugate the world, not just ‘save’ it from us..."

"I guess you haven’t changed your mind." Hunding was managing to keep his face neutral, but his mind was rejoicing. I had a few tiny doubts even after that little incident with the Daughter of Kingu...but now I’m sure. If he can get this angry at the Heavenly Kings, they have no hold on him at all.

Son of Moloch, you great and utter fool...

You created someone worthy of being my nephew, even though you’ve sworn enmity towards me. Someone who knows what real justice is.

Someone who knows that humanity is worth something. That’s certainly better than you managed.

"I think..." Chris’s face became more grim than it had ever been in his existence. "I think once I tell Shermie all this, she’ll be happy to join us. The Heavenly Kings must be stopped."

Hunding took a few moments to take his nephew...yes, Chris was definitely his true kin...in, then smiled and gestured towards the grand hall. "So what are you waiting for? Let’s do it!"

As Hunding rushed out, Chris stared after him, a genuine smile forming on his face. After I realized who I really was, I didn’t know if I should think of you as my uncle. But that madness of a few minutes is over. Perhaps we’re not literal kin, but I see no shame in thinking us related. What shame is there in following Justice? He followed his uncle to the hall.

***** Well of the Pleroma, 9:22 a.m. *****

Yashiro paced back and forth with impatience. The Heavenly Kings, ever since Onyx’s daisho had been primed for ki absorption, had been praying to Orochi non-stop. And none of the three captives had woken up yet. Still, Yashiro did not think he wanted to talk to any of them. Especially not Onyx or Garlon. And he definitely did not think the Kings would make good conversation partners.

Besides, they would probably smite him if he tried. Getting hit with an Odoru Daichi, a Star-Rending Whip, and/or a Limbs-Biting Blaze was not particularly high on Yashiro’s list of favorite things.

For the ninth time in five minutes, Yashiro let his gaze wander to the south, towards Hallstavik. Where Shermie and Chris were. He was kind of hoping they would show up soon. Even if the Heavenly Kings were planning to crush them almost as soon as they set foot in the shrine. At least there would be someone he counted among his friends there.

And yet...if battle did break out...who was he to support? His superiors to prove his loyalty to Orochi, or his friends to ensure that none were slain? He knew Shermie and Chris would not be slain--not with their particular functions as ki-catalysts--but anyone else, like Varrius, Hunding, Clark, or Leona...okay, maybe not Leona...

A groan from the captives caught Yashiro’s attention. After taking a quick glance down to the lower level to make sure the Kings had not noticed, he moved to the "prison". Sure enough, Ralf had finally woken up.

"Where the hell is that kid now--"

"Shhh! Quiet!" Ralf stared in confusion as Yashiro rushed to him. "Believe me, you don’t want to interrupt their prayers! Their response to that tends to be rather painful."

"Huh? Okay, buddy, who are you?"

"Nanakase Yashiro, rock star and loyal servant of Orochi and--although I’d prefer not to be indentured to them--of the three remaining Heavenly Kings." Yashiro pointed at the prayer circle.

Ralf craned his neck forward as much as possible--the energy bonds were not allowing much leeway--and managed to see the Orochi threesome. "Yeah, I see what you mean. There’s the high-and-mighty Son of Moloch...who’s gonna find himself at the foot of this mountain after I get through with him. Not to mention some weird chick and...your twin brother?!"

Yashiro grimaced. "Worse. My original."

"Original? What are you talking about now?"

"In other words, he was cloned from the Son of Kali."

Yashiro squeezed his eyes shut. He really had not been looking forward to this. "Good morning, Garlon."

"‘Good morning?’" Garlon shifted his gaze to the thick cloud cover hanging over the shrine. "Between my getting caught by the Son of Kali, and this rotten weather we’ll be having, I’d say I’ve had a pretty wretched morning today."

Ralf stared at the prisoner stuck on his right. "Is this how I get to meet the infamous Garlon? I was hoping we’d be on opposite sides of the battlefield!"

"Do you really want me to grant that wish?" Garlon smirked at Ralf. "Look, I’ll admit that you’re at my power level, but what are you going to do about my comrade-in-arms, who happens to be stuck on your left?"

"Your comrade-in-arms…?" Ralf turned to look at Onyx, who was still unconscious. "Oh. Another weirdo. He looks kinda familiar, but…" He grunted dismissively. "Give me a while, and I’ll give him the what for."

"I’d prefer you give me ideas on how to get out of here!" Garlon struggled, futilely, against his bonds. "I have heard about your battle prowess, Mr. Jones. I would appreciate your assistance in fighting the Heavenly Kings, since one of them had a hand in defeating both me and Onyx. You might be the edge we need…again, once we get out!"

"…I told you, oneechan, I’m not going out today…"

"Hey, Onyx!" Garlon’s mood had brightened considerably. "Wake up and smell the…the…okay, there isn’t anything to smell."

Onyx let out a quiet sigh. "Just give me time to completely wake up after what that air tenma did to me." He shuddered in his bonds. "How much force did it put into that throw? All I really suffered was that Hoeru Daichi, with my armor dampening it–"

"Onyx, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what your Liege told you about the way a full-power Hoeru Daichi would hurt. As in, two or three and you’re out--since you must have been taking at least a little punishment from the metal tenma, I’d think two would have been enough for you. And I suspect that the air tenma in question set its winds to hurricane speed before it tossed you out. Which means that’s how fast you were going...So there’s nothing to be ashamed of..."

Onyx exhaled heavily, and craned his neck back. "Even so...six years with my armaments, and this is the first time I’ve been left with an incomplete set. When we get out, tell Yasuhiro I need a month to retrain myself so I don’t make mistakes like that again."

"Look, armor and swords or not, you’re not bloody Superman. You nearly got turned to gelatin by those three Blood Archons a year back, remember. I think we found out your equipment’s limits then."

"You mean those three Blood Archons and that army of skeletons, wraiths, liches, and ghouls."

Ralf was doing his best to tune out the two assassins’ conversation--rather well, considering that he was between them. He kept trying to shift himself to at least loosen the bonds’ contact. He didn’t succeed. "Hey, Yashiro..." The Orochi replica turned to face him. "Could you, you know, help out a bit? If we can’t get out, just make these bonds more comfortable."

"I have no way to do so. My superiors probably could...but I don’t think you could ever convince them to." Yashiro stared down at the Heavenly Kings, still oblivious to the events on the upper level, with angry eyes. "‘Most devoted servants of Orochi’, indeed...So why do they want to exterminate humanity?!"

"Probably because that’s what Oro-cheeky wants, if that run-in with Goenitz was any indication."

"No, Ralf. I understand where you’re coming from, but you’re still wrong." He looked at him sidelong, keeping both Ralf and the Kings in his view. "Orochi Himself has visited my dreams with visions of the perfect world He would restore. A world unpoisoned by chaos, war, strife, confusion, everything in perfect, beautiful order...how can genocide lead to that, and not ruin? The Heavenly Kings will ruin our goals if they get their way. But I know they won’t in the long run, because Orochi will not suffer them to. Despite the Son of Kali’s rage, despite the late Son of Anshar’s ravings--you knew him as Goenitz--Orochi is the God of Perfection, not the God of Hate." Yashiro now turned fully towards his captives. Even Garlon and Onyx had stopped their talk to listen to Yashiro. "There have been so few of us who know His real nature in recent years, especially now with the current batch of Heavenly Kings all violently opposed to humanity. But it is they, not us, who will be rebuked when Orochi returns to part the pure and the corruption, and adopts the righteous of humanity in the final battle against the advocates of the Hyle."

"Okay, I think I got most of that. But...what’s the ‘Hyle’? I’m guessing our Australian friend here and his samurai pal know, but I haven’t read the glossary."

Yashiro allowed himself a fraction of a smile. This isn’t so bad after all. "The Hyle is essentially the set of those universes, realities, whatever you want to call them that are primarily chaotic in nature. More often than not, they’re also full of demons that want nothing more than to turn our world into a cesspool of strife, like Ambrosia, and the Satsui Lords. Orochi, though, represents the Pleroma, those universes that are mostly ordered and tranquil. It is He who will forevermore protect our world from the Hyle’s influence. No war, no crime, no sorrow...when you get down to it, pretty far removed from the Son of Anshar’s ideas."

"Three words, Yashiro," Garlon muttered. "Orochi is lying."

"Is your prejudice really so strong, Garlon? Never mind," Yashiro said as he turned away from the assassin. "I know Ralf is worthy of salvation, but you and Onyx are a different story. Onyx, in particular..." He turned his eyes to the bound samurai, who stared back calmly. "Had you succeeded in killing Chris..."

"I thought he was the actual Son of Moloch. Mistaken identity. But I would never have regretted my actions even if Chris had died. Innocent casualties are an unavoidable, if regrettable, byproduct of war. And you and we are at war." Onyx closed his eyes. "The Orochi Alliance, the shinobi clans Bushin and Shiranui, Mochizuki for good measure, the Prism, the Order of Thoth and Anubis, the Blood Archons, the remnants of C.A.N.Y. and Shadaloo...so much we have to fight against. Yet nothing can dislodge me from where I am. I serve my Liege as fervently as you serve yours...and the two lieges cannot coexist."

"Oh, please," Garlon groaned. "You’re not going to try to convert Yashiro, are you?"

Onyx laughed quietly. "No, remember that my Liege doesn’t want worshippers, only followers to restore what he originally intended."

Yashiro simply turned away from the assassins and looked back towards Hallstavik. Ralf kept watching him, trying to sort out everything he had just learned.

I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as fervent in their beliefs as Yashiro...except maybe Goenitz, and I’d rather not remember him. Kind of hard to believe that someone as decent as him could have the same god as Goe-nutsy. But Garlon’s probably right...

His faith’s based on a lie...

***** Swedish airspace, 9:35 a.m. *****

Hunding and Varrius had been fortunate that the weather was heavily clouded over much of Sweden that day. Even at the altitude it was flying at, the Wyvern Rose and her party were taking to Marstjällik would have been very noticeable. The only downside was that the crew was unable to tell the exact moment of such occurences as actually reaching the Swedish mountains, or crossing over each of the many northwest-southeast rivers of the nation. That is to say, they could not keep an exact track of progress. Currently, the Wyvern was hovering, waiting for a rendezvous with the Hallstavik Wyvern.

This is not to say that the crew was doing nothing. Indeed, certain of them were engaged in conversation...

"I don’t get it. If you’ve managed to restore your company from what Gill did, and Varrius is calling in your favor with this little job, why are you still after him?"

"Because there is still something that I haven’t reclaimed, Miss Shiranui." Dudley leaned against the inner wall of the Wyvern, looking out a window at the cloud surface. "As part of his attempt to keep Gill from completely destroying the family company, my father tried to appeal to his taste for fine art. Among Gill’s tastes in art are high quality cars. With Varrius’s help, I’ve managed to recover all the objets d’art that became collateral, except for a 1957 Rolls Royce that Gill absolutely refuses to relinquish, because of ‘sentimental value.’ Personally, I think he’s just holding on to it to spite us both." He chuckled. "He actually went so far as to say that he would only give it up if I, Varrius, or Hunding could defeat him in combat. I intend to do precisely that, to make it clear to him that he has no influence left on my family."

"And this is gonna help Varrius put Gill in his place?"

"Indeed, Miss Shiranui."

"Okay, I think I understand now." Mai crouched to adjust one of her sandals. "I just get worried when I hear about deals with members of criminal organizations. Although I guess my problem comes from my experience with the Seishukuu Tourou."

"Oh, yes, I believe Varrius has mentioned something about Mr. Isawa. One of his least favorite people, I might add. The same goes for Gill, especially after his blackguard brother forged an alliance with him."

"Whew, the list is growing." Mai stood up and put her hand to her chin. "Let’s see...us, the Conaghans, the Bushin, the Mochizuki, Gill, Varrius...I wanna know how he lives with all those enemies!"

"Well, with Sukune and Kazuo in the way, and also Wadi’a, Onyx, and Garlon when he’s particularly lucky..."

Mai rolled her eyes as she heard the interloper. "Thanks for the reminder, Siobhan."

"You’re welcome, Mai-daimyo."

Mai rubbed her eyes with her hand. "Would you please not call me that? I’m not daimyo yet, and if I can ever find Katsuda and get his agreement, I’ll never be!"

A long sigh emanated from Siobhan. "Mai, face it. You are the next daimyo, like it or not. I know you were counting on Yousai being the next in line, but with him dead...well...the decision’s already set!"

"Honestly, Siobhan, do you actually think I could ever be a competent daimyo? I don’t have my mom’s willpower, or verve, or..." Mai drove her palm onto the ship’s wall, as Dudley and Siobhan watched silently. "I am not Shirasu, Kazuyoshi, or even Hisaichi," she whispered. "I’m an excellent shinobi, yes, but what else? I can destroy majutsushi, defeat Isawa sorcerors, create or neutralize any of 139 different poisons--fatal and otherwise--decode some of the most intricate computer viruses ever...but how am I to run a clan of four different families? How am I to govern our interactions with the Emperor and the other shinobi families, to keep the Kisaragi and Mochizuki off our throats, to stave off the Isawa family’s schemes?"

Dudley bowed his head and murmurred "I think I underestimated what her brother’s death did to her. She seems almost manic-depressive, with that oscillating self-esteem of hers..."

"You’re just unlucky. The nadirs are actually pretty infrequent." Siobhan approached Mai and rested her hand on her shoulder. "Mai...take it easy. I have never heard of a Shiranui daimyo who did everything on his or her own, not even Shirasu himself. You’ll have quite a bit of support--Andrew, the daimyo of the Taiyozaki, Shinzawa, and Yamada, Kage if the Taiyozaki get the bad fortune of Shiroko as their daimyo, Fuha Jin and our other sympathizers in the Kisaragi...If you’d just start developing some confidence in your administrative abilities, you could be a daimyo on par with Kazuyoshi."

Mai raised an eyebrow at her. "What administrative abilities?"

"They’re there. You do remember that raid on Hosokawa Shinjiro and his friends that you coordinated, I hope. I think that was the most successful attack on a majutsushi enclave the clan’s ever known in two hundred years!"

A faint smile crept onto Mai’s face. "Yeah, and now Shinjiro’s brother is out for our blood. {sigh} I don’t know, I just...I just want a normal life..."

***** Elsewhere in Swedish airspace... *****

"All I’m saying is this: We’d better get this over with, fast."

"You don’t sound too enthusiastic about this, Kyo-san."

"C’mon, Clark, what makes you think I’d want to engage in this kind of world-in-the-balance fight every year?!" Kyo crossed his arms and gazed off towards the clouds. "I know what I’ve gotta do. I just wish my duty wouldn’t mess up my life on such a regular basis."

Clark smiled and adjusted his cap. "Then don’t enter the KOF tournaments. Ralf, Heidern and I enter precisely because we anticipate such trouble. I don’t see why you would have to enter, unless Orochi were definitely involved."

"I wish. But after Goenitz squashed me last year, I had a feeling that...that I had to enter the tournament, even though I didn’t know he was a Marid. I don’t know why...maybe Chizuru was pulling some unseen influence..." Kyo smirked. "Iori, of course, would say that my bad kharma was catching up with me."

"Well, between Goenitz and your losing to Iori last year, I think he would have reason to believe that."

Kyo waved his hand dismissively. "Feh. If it weren’t for Vice, I would have won easily. Unlike Iori, she obviously knew how to not be careless."

Iori, meanwhile, was listening from afar. Kyo’s last statement had not done wonders for his mood. "Me...careless?" he rumbled to no one in particular, despite the fact that Chizuru and Chris were nearby. "How can His Idleness call me careless, when he has still done nothing to earn everything he has?"

"He was talking about self-control, not effort. He’s kinda right, Yagami--from what I’ve heard, you probably would never have made it past your third match without your two teammates."

"A mere novice like you, child, should not presume to judge those more experienced."

"Don’t. Press. Your. Luck." Chris glared up at Iori. "I’m starting to reconsider my opinion that Minoru’s more of a jerk than you. Locking you two up together might be the best cure."

"You had better be referring to Itsuki Minoru."

"Who else?!"

"Hosokawa Minoru. A majutsushi. He sent two of his lesser students to kill me two months ago. They died instead. Even with the minor demons they summoned, they had no chance against me." Iori squeezed his eyes shut as his hands clutched involuntarily, and violet fire seeped from between his fingers. "I have never before seen such idiotic carelessness on anyone’s part, not even Kyo’s. Minoru must have known that those two would be killed..."

Chizuru, in the meantime, was steadily growing more and more concerned. The only time she had seen greater rage on Iori’s face was when she had first explained to him what had happened after Goenitz cursed him with the Riot of the Blood. Even during his anti-Kyo rants, his anger had never reached such levels. "Iori, please...calm down..."

"I can’t," Iori hissed, "not when I still remember their vitality, their enthusiasm, wasted by one with about as much concern for life as Orochi--"

"You? With concern for others--even mahoutsukai? I would never have expected that from you." Chris’s left eyebrow had risen to match his honest disbelief.

"I want to avoid the world, not kill it. Do not think that I am so stupid as to not know the real source of my pain." Iori opened his right hand, causing the flame there to disappear. "Although Kyo...Kyo...a living mockery of justice is what he is...He dares to reap without sowing or sharing...And Hosokawa and Orochi...both sowers of pain and nothing else..."

Chris was dumbfounded. "I don’t believe it...you actually dislike the pain of others...? I kind of thought you were the apathetic sort..."

"I know more about pain than anyone else in the world. I wouldn’t wish what I have on any save those whose kharma demands it. And of those, Orochi and Hosokawa both deserve such even more than Kyo. Orochi for what it did to me, and Hosokawa...Hosokawa for everything I hate. Love of pain, cowardice, simple sociopathy...At least Kyo has some measure of honor..."

"{ahem} Iori?" Varrius was craning his head out of the cockpit, scowling. "Not so close to the cockpit, please. We’re trying to begin contacting the other Wyvern just now."

Confusion spread across Iori’s face for a fraction of a second, before he realized that he had been raising his voice. He managed to conceal his glower by not looking directly at Varrius. "My apologies, Cicolini. Do what you will--I will certainly not interfere in anything that hastens Orochi’s failure."

Varrius watched as Iori proceeded to stalk towards the Wyvern’s rear, keeping his course as far away from Kyo as possible. "Pleasant, isn’t he," he said. "Even my boss never manages to be that...um..." Varrius tried to figure out an appropriate adjective.

A fraction of a smile appeared on Chizuru’s face. "He’s just never been very comfortable with either his curse or his duty. His soul’s been seared by Orochi’s taint...I think it’s only been since Goenitz’s death, and the first Bloodriot, that he’s been blaming Orochi, not the world, for what befell him."

"It shows," Chris sighed. "The Daughter of Kingu and her friends should have made a clone of him while they were creating us."

Chizuru shook her head. "He would never have stood for anything like that. Honor, justice, nobility--they’ve been latent in him all his life, just sublimated by his rage. You just heard the reasons why he hates Hosokawa. I’ve seen firsthand his horror at having to kill, both when confronted by necromancers and when under the Bloodriot. And I can see mirrored in his eyes his yearnings, his fears..." She cast her gaze downward, and her voice began to quaver. "So much righteous anger...so much pain...Even my feelings towards Goenitz after he murdered my sister eleven years ago might not match..."

"Oh, man," Chris murmurred, looking in the direction Iori had gone. His annoyance towards him had decayed into a fledgling sympathy while Chizuru had spoken of him. "I know judging by appeareances is a bad idea, but with him..." He trailed off when he looked back at Chizuru. She was still looking at the ground, but now, a couple of tears had trickled down her face. Somehow, Chris understood that she wasn’t crying over his sister. He turned to face Varrius, who was registering some surprise at what he saw, thus confirming Chris’s suspicions. One massive discovery after another today, he thought, as Varrius returned to the cockpit and Chizuru regained her composure. First Shermie’s original, then my original, then Iori’s little core of goodness...and now, someone might actually be in love with him? If we’re lucky, we can cap it off by getting Yashiro to realize what he’s really serving...

Chizuru, meanwhile, was still quavering internally over the memories of Iori’s plight. She still remembered so well when she had finally relocated him after KOF ‘96. Apparently, sometime after the triggering of the Bloodriot, Iori had been teleported out of the arena by an unknown infiltrator (she strongly suspected a certain Australian assassin infatuated with a certain ex-Hakkeshu). She remembered his utter terror at his loss of control...at being made to kill two people he had no wish to destroy.

Iori almost never let his fear, or his latent compassion, alloyed as it was with anger towards the world, show to anyone, outside of his aversion to violence in general. But that was when he was still sure of himself. If only for one or two days, ten minutes’ worth of an uncontrollable killing frenzy--even if some of it was in an uninhabited mountain area, courtesy the infiltrator--had completely undone that.

It was possibly the first time Iori had ever cried in his adult life, albeit he had been shedding more tears of terror than tears of sorrow. Still, had Chizuru not found him so quickly...he might have gone completely insane from the Bloodriot’s repercussions...

It was not something Chizuru liked to think about...

In any case, during those two days, Iori had experienced something else he’d never known before--real kindness. Just about everyone else he’d known either ignored him, manipulated him, both, or wanted to fight him. But Chizuru chose none of those options. And her kindness was born not just because of his destiny against Orochi, but simply because he was human, and so did not deserve the pain of the Bloodriot and the Ya Otome. Even though Iori himself did not value himself as a human...because he had difficulty recognizing his humanity for what it was.

After those days of protection and succoring, Iori had managed to find a role as a lead guitarist in the newly-formed Arashi Samurai. Although his band’s schedule kept him on the move throughout Japan, and Iori preferred to take his own, usually exceptionally cheap lodgings (much to Minoru’s irritation) wherever they travelled, he and Chizuru managed to meet many times. Although Iori still couldn’t bring himself to name his connection with Chizuru as friendship, it still had that very quality. Whenever they met, she had seen in his eyes gratefulness for her presence. And the fledgling warmth of heart towards existence that was still muted by his self-hatred...

His goodness was definitely there in his persona, fighting to overpower the misery of his past. But ever since he had met Chizuru, the former element was gaining more ground. After every time they met, Chizuru admired Iori’s emerging noble qualities, his resolute soul, more and more.

And then, more than admired...

Two months ago, she had admitted to herself that she loved Iori. She knew of the Western concept of a knight in shining armor. Iori was something similar–the ronin looking for a worthy cause, and currently frustrated from lack of anything worthy. It hurt to see that frustration, that inability to see anything beyond the troubles with Orochi and Kyo...to see the future that would accept him, succor him...especially since Chizuru knew of a cause that would satiate his hunger to do something worthy. But, he would only see what was there if he opened his eyes on his own...

Oh, Iori...Chizuru’s eyes began to tear again as she looked towards Iori’s new hiding place. When will you be ready to hear my love for you? When will you recognize your real destiny?

I would fight Hiisi and Tlaloc themselves for you...I can’t even tell what I’m fighting more for now...the actual defeat of Orochi, or saving you from it...

*****

When we get to Marstjällik, I’ll come out.

Iori had finally managed to find a place to rest alone in the Wyvern. Admittedly, that place was very noisy, being where the dorsal weapon systems engines and part of the tail motor were encased, but no one else was there. For Iori, that was what mattered.

No Kyo, no Chris, no alternately moping and grim Shermie, no Leona...

...no Chizuru...

Iori sighed as he looked out of the window at his chosen resting point without watching the clouds below. He still didn’t know what to make of Chizuru...

The Yagami had been wealthy as assassins even after the 1802 flight of about half the clan to the Isawa, seeking the promise of a cure for the taint Hiroto had brought about. Iori had a feeling that such a cure had been found--after all, the Isawa had never been rent asunder by angry Yagami...

But the price--working for a group of sorcerors heavily involved in smuggling, assassins’ work, and who knew what else--was much too high...

Even if it did mean that before he reached the age of forty-five, the Bloodriot’s insistent call would irrevocably annihilate his sanity...His father only had a few shreds of sanity left. The über-assassin, Tsuruchi, was completely insane. Iori wasn’t sure he was that far removed...

He could still see it...

His hands tearing flame-bordered gouges into Mature...less than twenty-four hours after they had last shared his bed...Mature collapsing into a capacious pool of her own blood, which was boiling and emitting violet fumes in places...

Vice was not so clear--and not just because, unlike Mature, she had successfully protected her virginity. She had had time to mount a defense...and then that swordsman had appeared...

He knew he had inflicted horrendous wounds upon Vice...He could still remember the sound, at the end, of her shoulder blades breaking, her clavicle cracking, as he crushed her with a full Aoi Hana from behind, then the swordsman stuffing him into a portal that sent him to some very desolate mountains...

He had probably created the portal before he shattered Vice’s back...He couldn’t be that sure that Vice had died, but it was very likely, nonetheless...

The truth of the matter was that there were very few people Iori ever really sought the death of. Kyo, Goenitz, Hosokawa, Orochi...maybe Geese...but that was it. Any death not of them...that had not been his intent.

And three of those deaths, he had had absolutely no control over...

Considering his past, was it any wonder his own bandmates feared him? Likewise, to a much lesser degree, most of the other regular participants in the KOF tournaments?

Chizuru was the only one who ever associated with him willingly, without selfish ends and with complete trust. The only person who believed in his soul’s competence. Thus, she was the only person he respected outside of himself.

Not to mention the only person he actually ever liked being with...

From what he had seen of the original Arashi Samurai--that is, all except himself and Minoru--Iori had a very good idea of what real happiness was. And it was something he had never experienced, thanks to the circumstances of his existence. If it weren’t for the consistent press of his curse, though, he would probably know it with Chizuru. What he felt in her presence certainly came close...

Or perhaps, if he for once ignored his curse’s presence, Chizuru really was his best friend, with everything that phrase entailed. After all, he never felt reticent about discussing anything with her...so long as she was the only one present, that was...

An unbidden image came to Iori’s mind–him and Chizuru alone at the top of a strong tower, perfectly safe from all else, Orochi included. In accompaniment, there came the idea that such a tower would have been of Chizuru’s devising, especially for Iori.

Perhaps Chizuru’s endeavor’s to help Iori hadn’t reached that high a level of determination (desperation?), but he didn’t think he would mind. At least the company would be good…

As though on cue, more images appeared. This happened at times–Iori’s mind dwelling on the idea of being with Chizuru. The circumstances of those images had a very wide range, but the theme was the same–parity with Chizuru. Iori would have liked to keep the images with him…if they didn’t have the habit of moving uncomfortably close to the kind of territory Mature had held…

And considering how she had ended up…

Iori sighed quietly. As much as he would love to be in Chizuru’s range all his life, it was perhaps better to maintain some distance. He knew what his ultimate fate was, and he could not bring himself to let that fate blast Chizuru in the process…

Even if his heart felt a pain completely unrelated to the Ya Otome whenever he resolved that…

*****

"I do not care," Varrius said as he seated himself back into the co-pilot’s console, "if we have to attack the Devil’s Tower and raze it to the ground, we are finding the secret to the de-tainting of the Yagami!"

Hunding looked quizzically at him. "What was that all about?"

"Chizuru," Varrius said, his face set as steel. "I’ve seen that kind of concern often enough both in the Order and the Prism. Trust me, Hunding, she’s in love with Iori. I will not see her hopes dashed by the Bloodriot. I absolutely refuse to see love thwarted!" Fire danced in his eyes as his voice steadily rose. "Maybe Gill has forgotten all the forms of love, but I haven’t! Once we get back from this mission, I don’t care if he thinks there’s something more important for us to do, we are taking a fleet of Wyverns straight to Dauphine, blowing everyone out of the Devil’s Tower--Graf Zeppelin or no Graf Zeppelin--and taking all the biomantic research there!"

"What...?" Hunding quickly glanced behind him to see if Chris or Chizuru had noticed Varrius’s outburst; they hadn’t, having wandered further towards the Wyvern’s back. "Even with Urien around, I haven’t seen you explode like this for a long time, Varrius. You’re usually more collected than this. Why are you being so emotional and melodramatic now?" Hunding peered at his old friend. "The last time you got this fiery was five years ago, for Thoth’s sake. That was during...of course. It’s Rose, isn’t it? That’s got to be what’s bothering you..."

All the fire and steam seemed to deflate out of Varrius at once. "{sigh} I...suppose you’re right. Ten years here...but I know I did the right thing..."

"Well, you did. Granted, I wouldn’t want to have the kind of responsibility you have, juggling loyalty to both the Order and--sort of--the Prism, but it’s a good thing someone did. Before you came on the scene, quite a few of us were worried that Gill would start ending up like Urien. And now...look at what’s become of the Order..."

"Yes, I know..." Varrius leaned back. Hunding felt himself fill with worry when he noticed how troubled the Italian’s eyes had become. "But...I do sometimes wonder, like now, if I’ve really done enough. Gill still has those delusions about the ‘madness of unrestrained free will’. I don’t think we’ve yet managed to get across to him that his despotism should only be temporary until all the ills we know and hate--C.A.N.Y., the Bakemono, and so on--are gone forever. In fact, I sometimes wonder if...if we really managed to keep him from being like Urien, after all...That’s when I wonder if my sacrifice...my betrayal...abandoning my chance to win Rose...were worth it..."

Hunding smiled wanly. "I don’t think any of us in the reform movement has never had such doubts about our efficacy. Maybe we’re just becoming more realistic--you too. You didn’t complain about the last three defections to the Prism, all from our movement."

"I think that was because I was exhausted from keeping Urien and his Seishukuu Tourou friends out of the old Cyprus base. Ever try coordinating plans with a bunch of preserved brains whose souls left long ago, becoming little more than super-computers with a ridiculous ego? Taking on Yasuhiro one-on-one might be easier!"

Hunding’s attempts to formulate a response were interrupted by a repeating chime from the control console. "Ah, about time." Hunding hurriedly adjusted the controls to fully open the communications channel. "Rosa Montecchio? Dudley Vaughan? Anyone?"

"Yes, this is Rosa Montecchio." Rose’s voice and image came over the channel. "Do you read, Wyvern?"

"We read you loud and clear." Hunding quickly glanced at Varrius; indeed, he had become more relaxed very quickly. Yes, I’d say he misses her. "I have your coordinates; we can rendezvous with you in five minutes, and reach Marstjällik in another six minutes. Is everyone ready for the likely battle?"

"I believe so, yes. Morale appears high among us all. Can I trust the same applies to you?"

"My only concern is how well some of our people will fare with Yagami Iori. Specifically, Kusanagi Kyo and Chris Andersson."

******

Mai had recovered from her depressive fit some time ago. At the moment, she was standing just outside her party’s Wyvern’s cockpit, listening in on Rose’s conversation with Hunding.

"Morale appears high among us all," Rose was saying. "Can I trust the same applies to you?"

It had better, Mai thought. If we’re going to be near a mountain’s summit, we don’t need anyone getting so scared that they end up just getting in the way. We nearly lost the Shinzawa Grottoes to the Kisaragi fifty years ago because some of the Taiyozaki there lost their nerve. If we hadn’t recently gained the Yamada’s support...

Hunding’s voice could be heard from the cockpit, albeit faintly. "My only concern is how some of our people will fare with Yagami Iori."

No big deal, Mai smirked mentally. Just put him on one flank, and his detractors on the other. Yeah, he might get lonely over there, but this is the guy who apparently killed Goen--

Mai’s thoughts were interrupted when she heard Hunding’s next sentence. "Specifically, Kusanagi Kyo and Chris Andersson." The second name was what startled Mai. What?...Chris Andersson? As in the Ukuuchuukan no Mikoto? No way...

"Something wrong, Mai?"

Mai turned to see King. "Wrong, no," she responded. "Weird, yes. So help me, I just heard the pilot of the other Wyvern say that a member of my new favorite band is on board."

"You’re sure about that?" King moved closer to the cockpit so she could get a better idea of what was happening...

Hunding was speaking. "...known as a musician, but he’s also a very capable fighter. He trained under Asahara Kisada himself! He and Shermie won’t be lacking for motivation, either, since their band’s leader is one of the Marstjällik hostages."

"Nope. You didn’t hear him wrong." King smiled at Mai. "Just try not to go after them for autographs."

Mai contorted her face into mock disappointment. "Not even after the battle?" She exaggeratedly turned her back on King. "I think they’d be honored..."

Rose, meanwhile, was continuing her conversation with Hunding. "Let’s see...you, Varrius, Shermie, Chris, Kyo, and Iori are on that Wyvern. Who else?"

"Kagura Chizuru, Clark Steel, and Leona Heidern are the remaining three. Those last two are here because their third member, Ralf Jones, is the other hostage. From what I know of your personnel, there shouldn’t be any personality clashes, except, perhaps, anyone with issues about Iori."

"No, I don’t think so either...Besides, everyone here is eager to fight the Orochi Alliance. If there were any clashes, I’m sure they would be ignored in favor of the battle itself."

Hunding laughed gently. "The same is certainly true here. Leona and Clark are looking for revenge, so too are Shermie and Chris--particularly given some things the Kings did regarding them, which I won’t go into detail about--and the Shinji are duty-driven, as are Varrius and myself."

"I see...but tell me, Hunding." Rose now looked slightly confused about something. "From what Varrius has told me, you’re...well...normally much more uncertain and cautious about things than this. When did you become this calm?"

"I’ve been wondering myself." Hunding’s eyes closed as he recalled the day’s past events. "I suppose it’s just that I’m about to confront the greatest foe of my life. Not C.A.N.Y. Not Amondule. Not Urien. The Orochi Alliance." His eyes opened again, now filled with steel. "I’ve finally realized how much I’ve been yearning for a chance to confront the madness that would have either enslaved or destroyed me if Gill’s forces hadn’t rescued me. I can’t really rest...not until the shadow that has chased me for my entire life is brought down. I suppose it’s like how you feel about Bison."

Bison...? Yes, I suppose I see..."I understand your point, Thien. Although he’s not important in this. What is important is, that we are ready to destroy the Heavenly Kings. And I see no reason to believe otherwise, from what you’ve told me."

"Good. So...it would seem to be time to fight the devouring darkness. Again, I ask you...are you all ready?"

Rose smiled as she remembered the Wyvern’s other occupants. "Ready."

***** Well of the Pleroma, 9:49 a.m. *****

Why the hell am I feeling so damned nervous?

Yashiro gripped the upper level’s railing tightly as he watched the skies beyond the shrine. The Kings had already gone beneath the shrine to perform their pre-battle prayers and rituals. Yashiro, having Free Will, was not invited, since he was "impure". In fact, the Kings had no intention of emerging until the warriors the Son of Moloch and Daughter of Kingu had encountered had landed at the Well. Their reasoning was that they, as Orochi’s "perfect servants", were too pure and holy to be looked upon first by their foes. Instead, they would behold them first.

Now, Yashiro was left alone with the three prisoners, and the glittering energy well that held Onyx’s daisho. None of the four felt like talking.

Yashiro shuddered as he felt concern and fear for Shermie and Chris course through him. Gotta keep control, here...Gotta remember what we’re trying to do with this battle. Still...that new idea the Kings had, of actually inviting three tenma to help out...They’re definitely spoiling for a slaughter of humans...

Onyx, meanwhile, was still trying to adjust himself in his bonds, to see if there were any way of at least getting more comfortable. This is ridiculous. I’m starting to get the impression that these bonds are supposed to get tighter with every movement! And the energy itself...ugh...I think the only place I dealt with fouler energy was the majutsushi enclave under Iwo Jima. At least there, I could cut up those barriers and spelltraps with my daisho...His eyes suddenly lit with understanding. Of course...that’s how we can get out...Onyx looked over at Yashiro. Granted, we’ll never get Thrall-san there to get us out right now, but...he’s concerned enough about his would-be rescuers that he’ll want to join in the fight, especially with three tenma added to the ranks. The assassin smirked behind his mempo. And of course, why would he turn down help from a mercenary and a pair of swordsmen? Especially if the battle gets really desperate...which I’m sure it will...

"Onyx." Onyx turned to face Garlon. "Figured out anything about the prison?"

"I know how we can get out, yes." Onyx’s eyes were absolutely serene.

"HOW?" Garlon and Ralf uttered the word as one.

"Well...we’ll probably have to wait until the battle is well under way..."

Yashiro frowned when he heard Onyx. Wonderful. The last thing I need is for those three to get out and thwart the rescue of Orochi after the battle’s gone into full swing. He shuddered. Or rather...after others may have died...

A distant whirring sound caught Yashiro from his thoughts, as well as the prisoners. Yashiro leaned forward, trying to see what was making the noise. Then, he found out the source--a pair of giant helicopters, descending through the clouds and flying straight for the Well.

"They’re here," he whispered. "They’ve come..."

A wide grin etched itself onto Ralf’s face. "Awwwright. Orochi flambé, anyone? Because our three friends are about to get burned to a crisp..."

Yashiro, although he would have agreed with Ralf’s sentiments, wasn’t paying attention. Rather, he was amazed by the fact that there were two gunships. Just how large an army did Hunding and Varrius field...?

*****

"Clearing cloud cover..." Varrius rubbed his hands together with anticipation. "In just a few minutes we’ll be enjoying a little ‘talk’ with the Heavenly Kings about the merits of kidnapping."

"That and more," King said over the commlink. In addition to audio, both crews were sharing a visual shot of the area in front of the Hallstavik Wyvern–so far, nothing but clouds. Even so, both gunships’ crews had gathered in the cockpits. "What do you suppose we’ll have to fight?"

"Just the three remaining Kings. We’ll outnumber them pretty well." Varrius’s confident smile lessened a little. "At least, unless they actually thought to let tenma on the Well. So we should hope that they’re still bound by their laws of purity, their ritu–People, are you seeing this, too?"

The Hallstavik Wyvern had just broken through the clouds, and sighted the energy beam emanating from the Well’s center. "I’m seeing it," King muttered. "I take it that the beam’s not normal?"

"Anything but! I can’t tell what kind of energy it is, except that it’s some kind of containment field, and more."

"Well, what’s it containing?" Shermie asked.

"Give me a few moments to zoom in." Varrius worked the controls to get a closer look at the beam. In just a couple of seconds, both gunships had a clear picture of the beam’s contents.

"What...?" Clark was completely unsure to make of the new picture. "Daisho? What’re the Marids doing with those?"

"I don’t know...but..." Leona hesitated as she peered at the graphic. "I think I know those daisho from somewhere..."

"Anything we’d know about?"

"No, King...I remember them from my missions–that’s it! The samurai in the Amakusa Islands had them!"

Clark started at the mention of the Amakusa Islands, while Chris blanched. "Oh, God, no," Chris whimpered. "I really don’t want to put up with that creep today."

"What? There’s someone else there?" Shermie did not look happy with Chris’s words. "That’s all we needed--somebody to get in the way of Yashiro’s rescue!"

"Actually, I don’t know if our mantis-symbol friend would ever help Orochi out...but he tried to kill me once..."

"‘Mantis’?" Andy asked. "I know of someone who might fit the description–someone I’m not keen on meeting myself–but...are you sure this is the Onyx Samurai we’re talking about?"

"Onyx?" Mai didn’t like the implications of what was going on. Siobhan made no reaction; she had heard, all right, but she didn’t want to risk missing anything while responding. "Chris...um...did this samurai have black-and-white armor, and a hexagon on his kabuto?"

"Yeah! And that mantis emblem on his armor, as your friend said. Why, do you know him?"

"Too...damn...well," Mai growled. "You apparently ran into my brother’s murderer. I kinda hope that the fact of his swords’ presence means Onyx’s dead."

"I wish it were so, Shiranui-san," Varrius transmitted, "but that’s not the case. I just checked over the rest of the Well–look who I found."

Mai, Andy, and Siobhan returned their gaze to the vidscreen, which was now focussed a little to the left of the beam. "I see what you mean," Siobhan murmurred as she saw the bound Onyx. Beside her, Mai and Andy wilted a little as their hopes for a dead Onyx were thwarted. "Although, if these guys could kidnap this nutball..."

"...we have a severe problem," Chris finished. Now extremely worried, he faced Hunding and Varrius. "I don’t like this. When I had to face off against Onyx, I found out firsthand how powerful he is. The Kings would have to be godlike if they could capture him–"

"–and Garlon," Hunding added with amazement. "I can see him in this rightward shot, along with Yashiro."

"Both the assassins?" Dudley’s voice was incredulous. "Mai and Andy told me about those two wretches. Chris is right–if Garlon and Onyx could be brought down by them...This won’t be an overwhelming victory at all–we’ll only be about even!"

"What are you people all so worried about?" Iori rumbled. "We have among us three Shinji representatives, two sorcerors, two psionicists...There is no hope for the Kings. They will be destroyed. Especially when I bring myself to bear upon them..."

"Hey, didn’t think you’d be our voice of confidence," Chris smiled. "Ease off on the surprises, though. We can’t fight very well if we’re too stunned." Understanding, albeit somewhat nervous chuckling echoed along both directions of the commlink.

"Child..." Iori rumbled.

Varrius rolled his eyes at what he was once again hearing. "Gentlemen, please replace the cap. We need harmony for this little operation to go through." He smiled as Chris and Iori became quiet. "Thank you."

"Actually, Signor Cicolini," King said, "I think we’re as harmonious as we’re going to be. We just cleared the cloud cover ourselves. Considering how likely a fight’s going to break out in the few minutes after we set foot on the shrine..."

"Point taken, Mademoiselle King." Varrius took one last look at his console and the view from the cockpit, then set the Wyvern to hover. He sprang out of his seat, Hunding following him. "Okay, people. It’s time to set foot on the shrine and say hello to Orochi’s finest. Who’s first?" Varrius reached the rope ladder hatch to find Shermie already situated to descend. "Okay, I guess you’re first. You were awfully quiet during the flight--I take it you were preparing yourself for this."

Shermie adjusted the collar of her blouse. "There’s too much for me to lose. Yashiro, ensuring that the Kings can’t use me like they used him...You’d better believe I’m ready. And I won’t be not ready until this shrine is rubble..."

*****

Yashiro, Ralf, Onyx, and Garlon watched as the rope ladders unfurled from the hovering Wyverns. "This is it, Yashiro," Garlon said. "Do you still want to help your not-quite-god’s return? Or do you remove a certain Ankoku Byakko, Seiryu, and Suzaku from our midst?"

"If I knew of a way to do it dependably, both." Yashiro was issuing mental command after mental command to his muscles to relax for once. "If this actually goes through, we’ll be spared the trouble of having to parasitize the KOF tournament and sacrifice Kushinada Yuki. But the fact remains that we need at least two true-blood Orochi descendents to effect the recovery. And I have no idea how long Onyx’s daisho need to soak up and catalyze ambient ki to ensure that the recovery will actually happen. So, even though I’d love to fight with Shermie and Chris, no, I can’t interfere."

"Thanks a lot," Garlon growled. "Still, let’s see who we’ve got. Shermie, Rose, Iori, King--ANDY?!"

Onyx noticed his friend’s shocked look. "I think he would have noticed the daisho well before he actually landed, Edward. He probably found us, too. I wouldn’t worry--he wants to save the world--"

"They, Onyx." Garlon’s voice and face had become even more worried. "Mai and Siobhan have disembarked too--ditto your friend Leona."

"Alright, they’ve got a small patrol only too happy to slice me to...well, try to slice me to shreds, but my point is that if they have any intelligence, they’re going to save us for after the Kings."

"Don’t expect me to protect you in that case," Ralf smirked. "Especially since I finally remembered you. Remember the Amakusa Islands?"

Onyx stared at him. "You have to ask after Leona and Chris have appeared?"

"HEY, GARLON! ONYX! ENJOYING THE ACCOMODATIONS?"

"Well," Garlon muttered, "Mai obviously doesn’t mind taunting us before the big battle..."

"I gotta admit," Mai called with a lower volume, albeit still enough to reach the upper balcony, "seeing you two up there tells me all kinds of horrid things about our opponents. But at least dragging you back to the Emperor should be a snap!"

"Shouldn’t you be more worried about preparing for battle?" Garlon called back.

"Varrius wants us to form a ring around the rim of the shrine--he says that’ll make it easier for us to surround the Heavenly Kings when the fight begins." She gestured to the ring rapidly forming to Varrius’s gestures. "I don’t want to just stand around for the few minutes it’ll take the Kings to notice us, so I thought I might take a little time to get you to really feel what it’s like to be powerless."

"You’re not doing a good job."

Realizing what he was in for if he stayed near, Yashiro rapidly walked towards Onyx’s end of the balcony--partly to avoid the argument, partly because Shermie and Chris had positioned themselves at that end. Just as he was about to look at them, he felt a terrible pain in his heart--as though he had rendered himself unworthy of them...

No, he thought fiercely to himself. If anyone’s to blame, it’s the Kings for making me hide Orochi’s truth from them. He managed to get himself to look at them. He was a little relieved to see that their faces were filled not with anger, but with...confusion? They want to understand. "Shermie, Chris...don’t worry. There’s no way Orochi will let the Kings prevail over you."

"Yashiro, please," Shermie implored, "come down from there and help us! We can get you out of Orochi’s deceptions if you’ll listen to us."

"They’re not lies. Orochi seeks the world’s perfection, and I have to avoid intervening if His restoration is to come true." He smiled wanly. "I’ll help if it’s the only way you can survive, but..." Yashiro closed his eyes. "I can’t believe it--I’m helping Orochi’s blasphemers bring Him back to this world. Maybe I am His only true servant at this time."

"Far from it."

Yashiro started as he heard the voice that was not his, and still his. He bent his head over the balcony’s railing, and saw the mountain’s wall slowly grind open, commanding the attention of all at the shrine, even Garlon and Mai. Varrius had barely enough presence of mind to use his remote units to command the Wyverns to fly back through the cloud cover. As the wall-doors opened further, foul violet and blue light radiated out, creeping towards the well holding the daisho. Once the opening stretched almost to both stairwells, the grinding stopped. Then, the source of the light began to emerge.

In front of it, the Daughter of Kingu, Son of Kali, and Son of Moloch, resplendent in their militant uniforms. Shermie felt a familiar horror pulse through her body on seeing the Daughter--and a related horror on seeing the Sons. Chris for his part, merely stared slack-jawed at the three unholy warriors who matched him and his two best friends exactly in appearance, if not in demeanor. Behind them were three tenma--an earth tenma, and the light sources, an electricity tenma and a fire tenma.

Most of Hunding and Rose’s party found themselves looking back and forth from the Kings to their doubles and back as the wall groaned shut again. "What are we dealing with?" Dudley asked finally. "Twins? Clones? Androids?"

"Clones," the Daughter smiled. "Except for the Free Will, absolutely perfect." She turned her gaze towards Shermie.

"Like hell we’re perfect clones of you," Shermie snarled.

"You are," the Daughter persisted. "In the case of us two, we have the same DNA, the same capillary networks--even the same egg cells. At least, we did when we created you."

"Wha...same egg cells? You couldn’t have done that with body tissue...how did...?"

"We’re their shadows, Shermie." Yashiro nervously shifted his grip on the railing. "They literally split ki shells from their bodies and souls, gave us actual material form, improved us"--he paused to glower at the Kings--"with Free Will, and sent us out. I was supposed to make sure the purpose actually went through."

The Son of Kali smirked at Yashiro, as the tenma managed to convey the same, even though only the earth tenma had a face. "About time the ‘true servant’ showed some humility."

"‘Purpose’?" Kyo stared down the Kings. "What were you three scheming?"

"I wouldn’t call it exactly scheming." The Son of Moloch was beaming. "We just set things in motion, and once Yashiro did his work, you’d essentially do the rest of the work for us."

"WHAT! Why the hell would we do your work for you?!"

"The harvesting of ambient ki," Chizuru said. "Having Orochi bodies, if not quite Orochi souls, ambient ki would stick to them like magnets. From there, it could be conducted to break the Shinji seal."

"Smart woman," the Daughter grinned. "All we had to do was get Yashiro to conduct himself and our other clones to a place where many of the mighty clashed." She raised her right palm to the sky and allowed electricity to gather about it. "I believe you get the picture...?"

"The King of Fighters tournament..." King whispered. "You were going to use it for your own foul purposes..."

"‘Foul?’" The Son of Kali affected a yawn. "Just like the Free-Willed to get everything backwards."

"No," Hunding said, "they’ve got it right." He unbuckled his wand from his belt. "Despite what your false god says, humanity has a right to exist–as does the Hyle."

"Wrong on all counts," the Son of Moloch sneered. The sneer deepened when he noticed Hunding’s armaments. "Oh, really nice--the Sword of Lemminkaïnen? You think a Seelie artifact’s going to help?"

"Of course. The Sword was meant to deal with threats like you." Hunding shifted his wand to his left hand, then unsheathed the Sword with his right. As he did so, energy flashed along its length. "As well as rakshasi, oni, the agents of Tlaloc, Hiisi and Louhi...have some respect for those who would protect all, would you?"

"Not if they’re not approved by Orochi."

"Orochi this, Orochi that. So why are you using the weapons of the Onyx Samurai--one of Orochi’s most ardent foes?"

"Ha. We’re not going to be keeping the weapons after they’ve served their purpose. We’ll let Orochi Himself destroy them," the Son of Kali smirked.

"A purpose for the crystal daisho, hm?" Siobhan looked skeptical. "How about explaining it to us, rather than forcing us to wait for God to tell us?"

"I suppose it will impress upon you the inevitability of Orochi’s rule. Then you can start obediently awaiting your annihilation." He gestured at the daisho. "The Sekken Suru Tsume and Gekiretsuna Tsume. Two of the most powerful weapons known to anyone on this world, Free-Willed or Marid. They were partly meant to protect everyone’s favorite evil samurai from harm by conducting, converting, and dissipating offensive energies."

"Yes, they were. And in case you’ve forgotten," Onyx snarled from his prison, "they didn’t like being picked up by you."

The Son of Kali shrugged. "So? The procedure is automatic--they couldn’t withhold it if they wanted to. So, we decided to put them where they could be put to good use. If you thought we were ki magnets, the receptacle the Tsume are in makes us weak in comparison." He gestured to the energy well. "The Tsume will have no choice but to soak up all the ki that’s about to be released. Thing is, ki tends to self-magnify a little when it comes into contact with pleromatic energy--like the receptacle."

"Therefore," the Son of Moloch finished, "our ambient ki will be magnified twice--once when it reaches the receptacle, and again when the Tsume spit it back out. After that, it’ll gather beneath the shrine, ready for use to break the Shinji seal and restore our almighty Lord Orochi!"

The gathered Free-Willed warriors soaked all this up for a few seconds. That was when Iori spoke. "Not if I have a say in the matter."

"You don’t." The Daughter of Kingu stepped forward. "Much of your family has been rather...lax...with regard to following Hiroto’s wisdom. But the pact holds--you will serve Lord Orochi."

"No." Iori stepped forward. "I have not forgotten Goenitz’s post-mortem insult. And I definitely haven’t forgotten what Orochi turned my family into. After the way you’ve used me, tried to corrupt me more than I already am, into Orochi’s slave...I will never forgive you or your so-called god!"

Yashiro, meanwhile, was watching the proceedings intently. "Come on, come on," he muttered, "get going. With all these people, you’re going to get slaughtered."

"Even with three tenma helping them out?" Garlon sounded less than confident.

"Bah. They still have a chance. They’ve got a 5:3 advantage numerically, and tenma are not exactly the most intelligent of elementals. I guess I’ll get both wishes after all." He smiled beatifically.

"I hate to tell you this, Yashiro," Onyx said, "but I think I see another crimp in your hopes."

"What?" Yashiro was less than patient with this new pessimism.

"Well...it’s the way your original and the Son of Moloch seem to be concentrating while the Daughter of Kingu and Iori are arguing. I wish I had some idea of what kind of quasi-mahou they’re doing."

Yashiro rushed over to the railing and looked over. As Onyx had said, the Sons were apparently preparing some kind of spell...

"Let’s get one thing straight, Orochi slime," Iori hissed. "You cannot control me. Yes, I’ve fallen into the Bloodriot several times--but I’ve always gotten out. I’ve never been in it for more than a minute, and fortunately, ever since Mature and Vice, I’ve only ended up killing assassins and mahoutsukai. My life is my own!"

"No, it’s not. Not yours, not Leona’s, not any Marid-blooded’s. We belong to Lord Orochi, and only Him."

"Now see here..." Leona now stepped forward to confront the Daughter. "I’ve taken enough garbage from Goenitz’s dream messages. The last thing I need is to hear the same stupidity from your mouths!"

Kyo cast a nervous glance at Varrius. "Um, when are we gonna have to back them up?"

"Soon," Varrius replied. "Those tenma are probably planning to trample us if we make the first move--they can do it, too. That electricity tenma alone could kill one of us in fifteen seconds if that one isn’t watching it carefully. That’s why we’re in a ring--we can surround the Orochi forces, and cut them off from one another by getting two or three warriors concentrated on each one."

"It is not stupidity." The Daughter drummed her fingers together. "It is the truth. Nothing can ultimately stop the power of the perfect. Nothing. It would be so much easier for you if you joined us on your own. Your souls would certainly be succored by Orochi if you accepted His word of the Hyle’s death."

"Go to hell," Leona growled. "I’m not going to participate in the world’s destruction. What I am going to do is rescue Ralf, and bring death to you three and your pet monsters!" The tenma visibly bristled at being called "monsters".

"I think not," the Daughter whispered. "We think not."

We? Yashiro frowned. She must mean the other two Kings. But how would they be--Of a sudden, Yashiro understood, with a sick feeling, what the Sons were doing. "No...NOOOO!!" He rushed to the left stairwell. "I WON’T LET YOU BLASPHEME OROCHI BY INVOK--"

"Silence, Yashiro." The Daughter pointed in front of him, summoning a sphere of energy for him to ram into. On contact, the sphere broke, blasting Yashiro back to the landing.

"What?" Chris rapidly shifted his gaze to Yashiro. "Yash, what is it?"

"STOP THEM!" Yashiro desperately picked himself back up. "STOP THE SONS!"

"You’re too late, Yashiro." The Daughter indicated the Sons, who had finished their prayer to Orochi. "As are the rest of you," she told the assembled warriors. "You were too cautious."

"Too cautious?" Leona raised an eyebrow. "How do you fi--" Leona’s words stopped short, then became a pained gurgle as she fell to her knees.

"What?" Iori turned fiercely to the Kings. "What did you just dooOOOAAGHHH!!!" Iori, like Leona, fell to a kneel, coughing up blood.

The other warriors, meanwhile, were all in shock. "Sacre Dieu," Shermie whispered. "What...happened to them...?"

"The Riot of the B-blood..." Chizuru choked. "The Sons were secretly invoking Orochi’s power over them..." Iori...no...not after all we’ve done...She stared at the Kings with anger swiftly turning to rage. "Release them! I will fight to the death to save them!"

"Absolutely not." The Son of Kali’s face could not have been more smug if he had put in ten times the effort. "They’re in Orochi’s service, now, and that’s where they’re going to stay."

"NEVER!!" Clark rushed at the Kings. "Maybe if I put one of you out of commission now, I can undo your hold!" He had just enough time to finish the word "hold" before he found himself blasted back to the shrine’s rim...

...by a Moon Slasher.

Clark blanched in horror as he saw what the Bloodriot had done to Leona. Blood flecked her lips, her posture was hunched, and her face was twisted into a monstrosity of rage. As he listened, her breathing sounded strangely metallic...like she’s become something other than human...one who can think only of destruction, like the Satsui...

Iori, meanwhile, was not faring any better. His face, too, was contorted into unmitigated rage. What was particularly distressing was the pale violet smoke that occasionally seeped from his mouth.

"I believe the phrase is, ‘hot stuff, huh?’" The Son of Kali basked in the horror of the remaining warriors. "13:8 numerically, except the eight are infinitely stronger and more durable than the thirteen. Even better, the Shinji troika’s guaranteed to be set against itself. Anyone want to object before we start the killing?"

Andy was especially horrified. "I’ve fought many horrors of mahou for the Shiranui," he whispered, "and I’ve almost never met anything so atrocious as this..." He turned and noticed that Mai and Siobhan were feeling similarly. He nodded to them. "As soon as Varrius gives us the go-ahead, I say we take the Sons." The two shinobi-ko nodded their silent assent.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" Yashiro railed from the landing, finally recovered from the New Moon Thundercloud and his own horror at the fates of Iori and Leona. "The Bloodriot is an abomination of everything Orochi stands for! The Bloodfrenzy was supposed to be a gift for those who allied with Orochi, to give them the power to fight the corrupt–not be a means of slavery!" He was already charging down the stairs. "I won’t let this atrocity go unpunished!"

The earth tenma, though, had different ideas. It rotated its entire torso to face Yashiro, and fired crystals in succession. As they exploded, they blasted Yashiro up the stairs again, this time managing to knock him out.

"We didn’t need this," Garlon muttered. "Now how do we get out of here and stop the unsealing? Those tenma will never let anyone get up the stairs, let alone take your daisho out!"

"I think he’ll wake up quickly," Onyx responded. "Those explosions weren’t particularly strong." He turned to Ralf, who had become deathly silent and pallid when he saw Leona fall to the Bloodriot. "Look, I’m sure we’ll get out of here. When we do, I’m sure we’ll get Miss Heidern out of her predicament." He looked at the bottom level. "At least, I hope we get out, before Orochi’s raising is guaranteed."

"That was your last chance." Hunding stepped forward towards the Kings, holding the Sword of Lemminkaïnen forward and his wand behind. Like Chizuru’s, his face was flushed with fury. "I will not stand by and let you twist the just to your own insanity." From the corner of his eye, he saw Chizuru ready to back him up. "The invoking of what Yashiro correctly called an ‘atrocity’ is one of the few things I shall never forgive. Since you obviously won’t release them on your own initiative, our only choice is to destroy you, and the Bloodriots with you. Only our deaths will stop us!"

"All right, then." The Son of Kali dropped into his attack posture. "It’s time you throwbacks got your long-scheduled living hell! Prepare to die!!" He did a beckoning gesture for the other seven. "In Orochi’s sacred name!"

Here it comes..."Everyone!" Varrius pointed at the Orochi warriors. "Get ready to cut them off from each other!" Although, we’re going to be so much weaker with Iori and Leona there, and not here...

And, as one, the Heavenly Kings, the tenma, and the enslaved Iori and Leona rushed the Free-Willed warriors...

End Chapter Three

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