Dragonball M, Chapter 1: Silent Menace Aproaches!

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

"It's a strange feeling starting from zero. That is the way all things begin, forged in the crucible of the naive mind."

The principle of Shoshin is manifest in the white of gi and belt. To truly understand something new, it must be engaged by a mind untethered to what had come before. The purity of the thing is not in its presentation, but in its understanding. Yet there were no markers here, no uniforms but the saffron robe of their host and the green of the memory-echo housed in the jade. Seasoned by battle and hardship, the three of them had their work cut out for them to recover what was lost.

"You want to do right by Balon and the history of the Dragons following in their every step with due diligence," he said, noting the snap of frustration mounting in Zaofan's movements. "The proper way, too, is a cage. Don't overthink it."



Ochazuke turned at the waist, casting a three-pronged finger strike forward, sinking his weight down at his core, his arm the coiling spring of the Dragon's maw.

The crucible of the naive mind burns all things away like slag from ingots, leaving behind the pure ideal, a thing to strive toward. Hearing Zaofan speak drew a short chuckle from him, the mirth in its weight opposed to the flatness of his expression focused in his execution.

"He was a champion for those who worshiped strength and bowed to the altar of might," Ochazuke replied. "He paved the path, but those who walked in his wake saw the place he went. They were just as complicit in propping up this image."

Resplendent as Turtle Island had been, Battersea's tournament was just a symptom of a rot that consumed it from within. Violence in the name of ego, so concerned with reputation and proving the smallest truth; by might alone, the worth to exist was proven. It was a thing that was driven into his very being there, on the cedar-board planks in the Grandmaster's dojo. The only objective for much of Ochazuke's life had simply been to win, no matter the cost. Behind closed doors he'd met many who would call themselves champions and would cast them down. Locked in the moment of violence, as legacies imparted to fists smashed into the flesh of the other, they'd sort out an unspoken understanding. Only the victor was worth anything.

"Battersea sat atop the tower. He didn't build it."



Still possessed of these thoughts, the teaching passed from another, the empty mind of action, and the little thread raking its silent drag in that remaining portion of his action. There was a little through-line through the generations, the inherited will from master to pupil, the strong to the hopeful, the now and the future.

Silently as he continued, he did not speak, yet would be remiss to ignore what Samson might say.

Samson nods.

“The rest will take weeks to decipher, but I have found one. Its located only about two hundred miles from here!” He says, excitement coloring his words.

“Shall we explore?”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

During the trial, Parsley was arrested for conspiracy and knowingly enabling a child predator. It was news that shocked the entire planet more than the trial itself. Parsley was famous, publicly for being a prodigy and privately for being completely untrustworthy. Many weren't surprised she was up to no good, but no one saw that coming.

Sarada had just one question: why? Why would her own sister, her flesh and blood, hand her over to a predator and assure him that he could do whatever he wanted to her? Even if she hated her guts, surely killing her would have been the more reasonable thing to do. Surely, pulling some strings so that she got sent to the Meat Market early would have made more sense. This... this was beyond genocide, enslavement, and all the other terrible things the Saiyans had done.

Anyone could say what they wanted, but not even a race as evil as the Saiyans would tolerate something like this.

Lettise was incensed when she heard about what her eldest daughter had done. Her rage was impotent, as the damage had already been done. Sarada really doubted she would fully recover from what was done to her, even if she managed to successfully move on with her life. To know that her sister was responsible was too much to bear.

When Sarada visited Parsley in prison, the cell was so dark that she could barely make out her sister's outline. She was sitting on her bed, arms folded, legs crossed, perfectly upright. It was as if this was a slight inconvenience that she was waiting to be straightened out so she could go home. It was as if she hadn't ruined her own blood's life.

“Sister,” she spoke. Her voiced was smooth and honeyed, like an Arcosian's. Her words flowed from her lips like a steady pour of water, never wavering, never betraying what she was feeling on the inside. “Come to visit me in stir?”

Sarada licked her lips. There was very little she wanted to ask her. 'Why' being the primary question; not only that, but also 'was it worth it'. Whatever reasons Parsley had for handing her over to Dashir must have been worth it to her at the time. Whether she still felt that way remained to be seen, but given what little of her posture that she could see, she felt safe to assume that she did. “No. I came to visit a bastard.”

Parsley never flinched.

“Mom disowned you, you know.”

“And?”

“Dad, too.” Sarada didn't have much of a relationship with her father, Guar. He wasn't even on the planet for much of the time, preferring to travel through space looking for fights. When the truth about Parsley came out, he made a rare appearance. They spoke, awkwardly, about what happened. It was rare that anything cracked his neutral visage, but this did it. Through gritted teeth, he called his oldest daughter an animal and a devil. No more needed to be said. “He called you a devil.”

“The nicest thing he's ever said about me.”

“Do you not care? Do you not care what you did to me?” Her anger was beginning to roil, but it was tempered by a desperate need to see some kind of humane emotion out of her eldest sibling. A need to see that deep down, she really did regret – even if only a little – what she had done.

She didn't answer. The silence was deafening, but not very telling. It could have gone either way; she could have cared and just didn't want to admit it, or she could have not cared and felt the answer was too obvious to state aloud. Or, perhaps she just wanted to **** with Sarada's head.

The third was the far more likely reason.

“Why, Parsley?” she asked, anger tinging the two words. “How could you do this to me?”

Again, she remained silent. It was said that at times, the best answer was none at all. This was not one of those times.

“Answer me!!” Her shout echoed through the silent hallway, but no reply came. “Is it because you don't know? Did you not actually have a reason? Did you just do it because you're an evil piece of ****?”

Each question received nothing but silence. It was maddening! All she wanted was a single word one way or the other. Just one. Hell, even an 'I don't know' would have sufficed. But to remain silent in the face of her own flesh-and-blood demanding answers of her was equal parts infuriating and painful.

“Because I hate you.”

The words cut through the air like a fatally sharp energy disc through a mountain. And even though she suspected as much, they still cut her more deeply than any knife or energy blade every could. And unlike those wounds, these would never heal. What had she done to deserve this? Was it because Parsley was mad she wasn't an only child? Given what she heard from those who actually were their parents' only child, it wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

“Why?” she asked, voice shaky from restrained emotions. She couldn't keep the anger and hurt she felt hidden well enough.

Parsley snorted, but gave no verbal response.

Sarada licked her lips again and swallowed. Her mouth was as acrid as a desert. Her fist banged against the wall of energy separating them. “ANSWER ME!!!”

Outside of a deep sigh, no answer came forth.

It was clear that Sarada was just wasting her breath and her time. It was like talking to a brick wall. With a disgusted snort, she walked away, only confirming what she had already suspected when she got there. Her own sister hated her, and had for years.

It was so obvious in hindsight, and a lot of things made sense. The snide, passive-aggressive remarks that cut through her confidence like a hot knife through butter; the taking delight in Sarada's failures and shortcomings; the veiled disdain her every word carried whenever she spoke to her; it all made sense now.

Parsley hated her.

She hated Parsley.

“I hope you rot in that cell,” she shouted over her shoulder while she was still in hearing distance.

“Hmph,” came a grunt full of derision. “Do you actually think I'll be staying here for much longer?”

The sudden question stopped her in her tracks. She whirled around and walked briskly back to her sister's cell. “What?”

“You heard me,” she answered smugly.

It was obvious that she was just fucking with her head. This entire conversation had been Sarada asking question after question, only to either receive dead silence or some cryptic half-answer. She was getting sick of getting the run-around. “All I want is a straight answer.”

“And I gave you one. It's not my fault you're too stupid to figure it out.”

A growl rumbled from the pit of her stomach. She knew that Parsley was wealthy and famous. That meant that this was going to get swept under the rug. If it went before a tribunal, she was going to be able to afford the very best attorneys out of Turrip for her defense. She was going to either walk because of a technicality or be able to influence the tribunal enough to be found innocent of all charges. If that happened, there was no chance of her seeing justice. Vocadoan law prevent a person from being charged twice for the same time if they were acquitted the first time.

It was, then, imperative that everything go right this first time. She couldn't allow her sister to walk free, not after what she had done to her. “I'll make sure that doesn't happen.”

Parsley snorted derisively. “And how will you accomplish that? You already had your fifteen minutes of fame. Any more and you'll be accused of using your trauma to garner fame.”

“I don't give two shits about fame. What I care about is justice—”

“What you care about is pinning the blame for what happened to you on me. It's no one's fault but that bastard, Dashir. I never spoke to him about you. I just showed him your picture, that's it.” She leaned back on her bed until her back touched the wall. Her face was still hard to make it, but it looked like she was frowning. “I didn't know what he was or what he did to children. I was only making small talk and showed him a picture of my only sister. He said you were cute, and I said I'd bring you by for ice cream. That's it. How he managed to twist that into me wanting him to molest you is a mystery that only he knows the answer to.”

It proved to be the most Parsley had said during the entire conversation. Her words, they sounded true. Everything she said sounded like the truth. But, it couldn't have been. Dashir said she told him that he could have Sarada as long as he wanted, and that she'd keep the heat off him until she was forgotten about. That had to be the truth. “Dashir looked me in the eye and told me that you gave me to him. You gave your sister to a pedophile and told him to do whatever he wanted to me.”

“You would believe a rapist over your own sister?”

She tried hard to ignore the hurt in her voice, or the pang of distress and hurt in her own chest. “You... you admitted it,” she stated, sounding much more sheepish than she intended.

“Did I?” she questioned in reply. “I only said I hated you. Never said for what. For the record, I do hate you. I find you to be incredibly irritating and boorish. But, I don't hate you enough to pass you off like a prostitute.” She stood and approached the cell door. For the first time in months, Sarada looked at her sister's face. “You're my sister, no matter what.”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

The look on her face was earnest, her voice calm and steady. Her words sounded genuine, but that was the game Parsley played. She could make everything about her seem honest, even though she was lying through her teeth about something completely obvious. She was an expert manipulator and deceiver, and Sarada wasn't going to fall for it. “You're a fucking liar,” she spat. “You don't give two shits about me, and you never have. There's a reason Maiz won't let you near our brother.”

Parsley's face dropped slightly, hinting at the twinge of annoyance she was feeling inside. “Hmph. Is that what you think? I guess it was someone else who saved you from him, then, hm? Who was it, Sarada? Maiz? Mother? Was it Jack?”

Her breath caught in her throat. She swallowed it down shakily. “H-how do you know that name?”

She grinned like a predator on the hunt. “You'd be amazed at how loose Avoca's lips are when she's about to spend a few hours writhing in bliss.”

“What?!”

She shrugged. “I didn't mean for it to happen, honest.” For as much as that word meant coming out of her mouth. “She was upset because you two hadn't mated in months. She said you were ignoring her and wouldn't stop talking about 'that stupid Earthman' whose scent you carry like a musk. I offered to take her mind off it for a bit. After a little prodding, she acquiesced.” She walked back to her bed, never once taking her prodding green eyes off Sarada. As she sat, she grinned sharply. “Imagine that. You of all people meat mixing. With a man, no less. I guess you aren't as traumatized as you make yourself out to be.”

“No! It.. it's because he isn't a Saiyan.” Or, at least that was what she kept telling herself.

“Nah. Bullshit. A dick is a dick, no matter what it's attached to. Heh. Avoca just ranted about how you kept going on and on about how he pounded you into a pile of mush. Tsk. Guess it didn't hurt much this time, did it?”

“Shut up!” It was obvious what she was doing: riling Sarada up so that she forgot what they were originally talking about. Her mentioning Jack out of the blue had her shaken up, but she saw right through it. “Hmph,” she grunted brusquely. “Your tricks are becoming one-note, sister.”

“Are they? I figure an Earther wouldn't expect a monkey girl from space to ever want to see him again after going home, so he's probably already moved on.” She shrugged on shoulder lazily. “A shame, though. I hear Earth woman can be so fragile. If you weren't lying about the collateral damage you two caused, he's going to pound every woman he mates with into a literal pile of mush.”

She's just trying to distract me, but it won't work! Despite her resolve, she felt a twinge of doubt creeping into her heart. She told Jack that she only saw him as a friend, plus she had been showing much more affection with Ishtar than him. What if he took both those as clues that she wasn't interested in him beyond mating?

Wait. She was only interested in mating with him.

Right?

Yes, right. So, there was literally no reason for her to be so worried if he decided to bed some other woman. Of course, Earth women weren't as sturdy as she was, so he would have to hold back a lot. Plus, no one on Earth could please him the way she could. She remembered how his toes curled when she showed him all the things she could do with her tail.

But, nah, she wasn't worried.

“Whatever,” she replied with a shrug. “Let him move on. He'll never **** a woman as hard as he fucked me. Not that it's any of your business. If I were you, I'd worry about the upcoming tribunal and the sentencing they'll lay on you when you're found guilty.”

Parsley sighed deeply, as if talking to a child. “It's my word versus a convicted pedophile. You weren't present for this alleged conversation he and I had, so your own testimony means jack.” She grinned when Sarada flinched. There's simply not enough evidence for a conviction. Sorry, baby sister, but I'm not going anywhere. Except maybe to Earth, to pay this beloved Earthman of yours a little visit.” Her grin turned predatory. “Maybe I'll show him how a real woman mates. You don't mind, right?”

“**** you,” she snarled. “If you even think of touching him, I'll—”

“You'll what?” she challenged. “Kill your own flesh-and-blood? Over a man? How... cliché.” She laughed that haughty laugh that Sarada hated so much. It was like a thousand needles were digging into her flesh. She learned it from the Arcosians, which made her hate them and especially Koorimaru all that much more.

Sarada was seething. Low, simmering growls rumbled out of her throat with every breath. She would have loved nothing more than to bust through the energy wall separating them and beat the **** out of her, but there was no way that was going to end well. Instead, she breathed in deeply to calm herself, then breathed out slowly. “Goodbye. I can't wait to read about your conviction. Hn. Maybe the ladies in the prison ward will make you their bitch.”

“Hmph. Don't hold your breath sister. When I'm acquitted, I really do plan on visiting this mythical Earth I've heard so much about. I would love to see what about it made you so much stronger.”

There was something in her voice that startled Sarada. It was the sharpness of her words, or the terseness with which she said them. It was the thing that was lying underneath, barely detectable.

What was it?

Sarada didn't know. She didn't have the time to figure it out. She had other things to take care of. With one final look of disdain, she departed.

[Ptrvc]

Whistling sounded as a katchin blade cut through the still air, to be followed by a sharp, pop, as it rushed to fill the void. On a mountain somewhere in the North, Jack practiced his forms over and over again. Cut one, two, three, four, Cut two, four, one, three, cut four, two, three, one.

Sarada was off in space, everyone else was off doing something else. Even Manco had not shown up to bug Jack since the night they had camped out in detritus of their duel. With nothing better to do, Jack decided to practice his dagger forms, checking for edge alignment, efficiency of motion, that sort of thing. That was the trouble with practicing with daggers, you could not use the real thing, and the same training partner twice. Which was too bad because...

Because....

Something's not right...

He felt something moving a small distance off. Not a large amount of ki, maybe a bear or something...but it was coming straight for him.

Odd, with all the noise he was making, you would think a bear would stay away. Whatever, free lunch never hurt anyone. Well, not Jack anyway. Jack dug into his coat, to get out a capsule in preparation when the bear suddenly seemed disappear.

"What the hifl?" Jack swore, as he widened his senses. Bears did not just suddenly disappear. At least not while Sarada, Erosa, and Shaseem were not around, where could it...?

Jack was suddenly aware of a man standing before him. He was big man, but not extraordinarily so, a few inches taller, maybe fifty pounds heavier than Jack was. The man cracked his knuckles and then pointed at Jack. He held the finger outstretched for a few moments before bringing it to his neck and dragging it across slowly, in the universal sign that he did not, in fact, want to be Jack's friend.

"Listen, dude, I don't know who you are, or what you think you're doing out here. I am feeling generous however, so here's the deal, you take your sorry ass outta my sight, and I don't kick you're damn teeth out your aforementioned backdoor, you understand?

The Stranger just laughed, a deep, bellowing laughter that seemed to fill the entirety of the frozen landscape. Jack sighed, and sheathed his daggers, "Some local tough, thinks he's hot ****, huh? I'll just scare him, send him back ho-"

Before Jack could finish talking to himself like a weirdo, a fist that felt roughly the size of a Fistivus Ham smashed into his face, sending Jack fluttering away like his childhood hopes and dreams.

Jack hit the permafrost and rolled, bringing his hands up ready in a defense but there was nothing there. Jack looked around, puzzled, when he suddenly heard a high pitched, whistling sound behind him. He turned to face it, and almost immediately ate a boot to the gut, knocking the wind out of him completely, as well as bringing him down to all fours. The man above shook his head, seemingly disappointed as Jack desperately pulled another cigarette.

Jack raised his head and let loose with the Snake Eye's technique blinding the guy. He then pulled the cigarette out and unloaded into the Stranger, with Blackjack Bushwack after Blackjack Bushwhack neck, face, eyes, hands, wrist, knees, whatever target looked vulnerable. Everything he had, his body flooded with power born of anxiety and desperation.

Nothing.

The Stranger. Didn't. Flinch.

Instead he grinned, and sent Jack flying once again, this time cracking a rib.

Desperate, Jack began to charge his energy. He figured the Stranger would be on him in a moment, but the man seemed to be holding back, waiting.

His mistake.

Jack charged in, roaring his defiance loud enough to shake last night's snow from tree branches hundred a feet around. "Dead!" The man brought a fist back, cocking it ready to throw a counter to Jack's own burning fist. "Mans!" Jack continued, aiming for the Stranger's pearly whites exposed by a smug grin. "HAND!" Jack finished as he met the man's punch.

Everything went black.

The Stranger looked down at Jack's unconscious, one-armed body. It was not the worst punch he had ever felt but still lacking. "Too much flash," he said after a minute, shaking his head, "Reckon I got my work cut of fer me."

Jack awoke suddenly in his bed. In terror, he looked down towards his arm and saw that it was fine. Mostly fine...just a slight underdone feeling to it, like it had been in a microwave or something. He looked outside, through one of the holes in his room. "Early morning...what day is it?" Jack looked at the calendar but saw that it was the same day. Sarada had been gone for a few weeks, he was due to meet Totoma for brunch the next day.

"Wait...what...how?"

Jack looked around his room, to discover something had been placed at the foot of his bed. A card. He picked it up, only to reveal a King of Heart's, grinning as he shoved a sword through his own skull.

"The...****?"

[Yun Lao]

Every attack he threw, the drifter blocked with the flat of his blade and with each swing of that sword, Charco evaded. It was clear the swordsman was holding back and sizing him up with each attack and while the teenager's punches weren't as lacking, he had yet to delve into any of his techniques. Rearing back, Charco focused all of his might and chi into his fist and struck with an Ankylo Smash, and while the swordsman blocked like before, the sheer force of it flung him back, deep into the flora of the jungle.

For a moment, only the sounds of nature and beating of Charco's heart were the only things he heard, but suddenly the horrid sounds of metal shrieking and screaming came, followed by a tsunami of sharpened bits of metal. With each move he made to avoid being sliced or stabbed, more blades sought to intercept him. Nicks and shallow cuts accumulated across his body, leaving the boy bloodied by the time he managed to escape and take quickly to the air. In response, each of the individual blades that made up that monstrousity of swords turned and twisted until they all pointed upward at him. Breaking off from the center mass they shot upwards, creating a reverse rain of weaponry.

By this point, he was growing tired of dealing with swords.

"TYRANNO BLAST!!"

The stream of green energy consumed most of the projectiles, each of the swords deforming or melting before exploding into purple smoke, and those not destroyed were evaded. They too would exploded, although they remained metal as bits of shrapnel dug into his flesh. "The **** is up with this guy and his boner for swords?" He muttered to himself as he tore out and jagged pieces of steel from his body.

"Oi!" The drifted shouted from below, "Flying is against the rules!"

"Who said we had rules, fuckface?!"

"Good point!"

From there, a tower of melded weapons arose from the treetops from which his mysterious opponent stood atop of it, "Nice light show." The drifted said, "Hopefully that's not all you can do."

[Sion Reaver]

Totoma slowed his pace a bit so that Karine could gain some ground. At the moment, he wasn't entirely sure whether to go for the win or let Kari win. Hehehe, either one was appealing, really.

'Oh come on, I am totally a dashing hero. Why, I've saved countless people and... even a planet or two when I was a kid. And my poses are totally the stuff of legends!'

.

A soft giggled was the reply of the mental link. 'Not exactly in the traditional way.' She teased. 'But that's fine. I like as you are. A lot of the fantasies are fun, but they don't beat the real thing. And I have you.' Her voice was slightly coy at the end.

'But... um... speaking of fantasies, is there... anything you've... uh, fantasized about me doing that you want to try out? I... er...'

He went silent again, actually getting kind of embarrassed at this line of conversation, despite no one else being able to overhear it. Maybe it was because the 'big moment' was, he believed... pretty close and he was getting a sort of pre-emptive stage fright?

'...and, um... I heard somewhere that nosferatu... bite... while mating. Is that, um... true?'

Another momentary pause.

'...because if it is, I think you should know that Saiyans bite, too.'

This is what happens when one doesn't know when to stop talking. Seriously.

".........."


Karine didn't respond instantly through the link, though surprisingly she didn't seem embarrassed rather a bit thoughtful. 'It can be..and uh. I guess in a lot of cases.' She flushed slightly, more out of thoughts of her parents with some of their..marks. Her parents potential sex life wasn't anything she wanted to be reminded of at all, like most young adults growing up.

'To fantasies, give me some time to think about it and I'll get back to you.'

[Miburo]

"There's little else I can think of here on this wonderful blue planet," she said, her words sharp with a hint of mocking. "So many problems on the surface and the Federation still wants to reach out and spread it to the galaxy, it's a sick joke."

The name of her disowned pupil did not go unheard. She fell silent for a moment, the low trill of the transport's instruments interrupted only by a deep sigh.

"It's a disappointment is what it is," she said, "can't even fight for what he believes, now he can barely speak to it. Too little, too late here, at the end."

"....For a woman painted as a sadist by research, and aggressive by my own estimate, I didn't realize we were speaking of passive aggression." The Nevadian retorted, her riddles and ridicule of his comrade not going unnoticed, "I won't claim to understand him, but I can't imagine anyone who puts their life on the line as steadfastly as he does to lack belief....And I can't imagine Ochazuke as nothing, if not resolute. I would have you speak your words plainly, if you really had anything worth saying."

This bitterness.....She seems even more annoyed by him than by me, or even this turn of events....What the hell is up with these two?

"So we're on the same page here after all, and there are no saints even here in this little patch of heaven on top of the world," Kenshiko replied, "the way your men attacked, some fool might've figured it was retribution. Some comfort. turns out it's less a divine calling, at that."

She heard his dissertation.

"Honor among thieves? Here's another cliche: We reap what we sow. What's a few million out of the fat hand that controls billions? Just another inconvenient problem to be swept away and ignored. Doesn't feel pleasant to step on a nail, does it? But there'll be hell to pay so long as someone's watching."

She swept the sweat-slick fringe out of her eyes. "One more: To the victor go the spoils. Another little convenience of absolution. So long as you have your prize, by right of conquest, it's a clear conscience. You took your bones from us. We took it from some other fatcat like Pantaloon. They took it from some backwater they can exploit because they can't fight back."

Resting her weight on her shoulder upon the wall, she shift herself toward Held and faced him down.

"To change this world, the system that treads on others must be uprooted. Revolutions are an ugly craft, but the truth is something that lasts forever. Sacrifice is necessary for things to change, and no price is too high to pay for a dream."

She shook her head.

"Those were the Colonel's words. I believed in them once," Kenshiko said wistfully. The small smile roused on her lips fell as she fell her head back, her throat exposed to the shadows of the craft. "Do you think your plunder, your ill-gotten gains are absolved of the bloodshed just because we were on opposite sides of the battlefield? Render your justice from this while you count your fat stacks."

"I didn't come to your base for Justice, Kenshiko." Held explained patiently, despite his irritation at the sanctimony of a sadist and cruel criminal growing by the moment, "I came to save your world, not to render judgement, or to change it." He picked up a capsule and examined it, noting a tinge of fresh blood on the capsule, that clearly was not his. He grimaced slightly.

"I'll leave such things to beings with far more ability than I in that regard--"

The Nevadians train of thought was cut off, as he was so entranced by his riches, that he had perhaps dropped his guard.

“Please.”

Jinzi says, leaning against the doorway.

“You talk big but the truth is my money is clean and earned the right way. Yeah, I’ve gotten rich off of my inventions but they in turn have changed the world for the better, hell poverty is almost non existent thanks to Capsule technology. But sure, steal from me and it’s ok. So what. So what about the thousands that nearly died on the Capsule of the World? No cost to high, huh? Just like the World Government says right? How very humanitarian of you. I spend billions making a geofront to protect people from harm, all free of cost and out of pocket, but sure, it’s ok to steal from me because I’m the bad guy monster billionaire fatcat, right?”

Jinzi huffs and leads Willa inside, locking her into a chair after making sure her ki binders were affixed tightly.

“The truth is I’ve done more good in this world then you ever have, will, or could, and all without stopping to your level. You revolutionary types are all the same, all talk but no game. Break the system but don’t offer anything in its place. I prefer to fix it from within, but I suppose the less copious amounts of bloodshed and opportunities to loot from people turns you off, hmm?”

Willia.....

The Nevadian glanced at her for a moment. It seemed like ages since they had spoken, the last time being at the point of blades during the Capusle of The World tour. In her current state, she was a far cry from the confident, powerful warrior who took what she want with little concern to anything else.

But, she was merely a secondary concern at the moment.

Held was silent for a moment, stunned at Jinzi's surprising candor towards Kenshiko and the others. The billionaire had always been calm and collected---A bit erratic to be sure--and to see him otherwise was quite surprising.

...I guess it makes sense he'd be so pissed. They've been hunting him down like a dog, and they then take the chance to piss all over his work. I guess I should applaud his restraint in this case.

"I'd say something about how we should all cool down, but I suppose I should be happy that we've reached a point where bloodshed isn't feasible." He said with a sigh, "But, you know there's no way to please everyone, Jinzi."

He looks at a Held.

“I’ll pay you in echange for whatever monetary loot you got from them, and I’ll make sure whatever valuables you give to me will go back to their owners. No blood money for the good Sergeant to concern herself with.”

The Nevadians quick mind had prepared a counter offer, poised to negotiate and discuss the finer points of money, the nature of the world, and the divine providence of 'Finders Keepers'. The resolute expression on the mind of the scientist had gave Held the impression that this was not a point of negotiation for him.

"Urgh....I suppose we all have our sticking points, eh?" Held replied with a sigh, "And I suppose it's not the worst deal for me....But, what are you doing to do with the money? I can't imagine you'd be content to have it sitting in your own vault, could you?"

I'd imagine if he's this serious about it, the idea of keeping that money around would feel like it tainted the rest of his own...

[KingofPie]

Two stones! Technically three stones, but one broke...so now....two! Sasheem was back beneath the waves once more, though far from the Merpeople, in an underwater cave. Now, he wanted nothing more than isolation for a short time so as to unlock the stone's true power. The Majin held one of the stones, both embedded in his palm so they wouldn't drift off in the ocean waters.

...Anytime now.

...

Any second.

...

Any minute?

...

Why weren't the damn things working?!

Sasheem began to bash the two stones together, but even with all his strength, thus didn't make so much as a dent. The green stone almost slipped out of his grasp, but luckily for the Majin, he was able to stretch out and grab it before it drifted away.

What was their secret?! What happened with the red stone that was different. Sasheem had to stop and think for a moment. Let's see...with the red stone, Sasheem had absorbed it's magic. And given that these were two more magic stones, if he did the same with these, he'd grow even MORE powerful. Sasheem then did so.

Next, after their big fight with Fife...and the weird thing inside Fife, Kami had broken the red stone, which in turn shattered it and broke a part of his toilet. Kami was a great deal stronger than he, so it stood to reason that in order two break both of these stones he'd have to grow stronger...and in order to grow stronger, he'd have to take the time to fully absorb the power of the remaining stones.

And to do this, Sasheem had to do one thing he despised, which was...meditate. Gathering the mystic energy would be hard work, but Sasheem figured he could manage it. This would be different than meditating to power his ki, however. Sasheem had to meditate to increase his magic enough to break the remaining stones. Thus instead of clearing his mind, he had to concentrate on the source of his Majin magic.

Sasheem thought back to the past few months and the events he witnessed and experienced.

Kelpie's anger at her family's castle being taken over...

Kelpie's father's anger over Sasheem destroying their family's livelihood...

The anger the ex-Raider felt at his situation...

The betrayal and rage Captain Brig felt once he realized Sasheem had deceived him.

And beyond that, there was more. From his allies. From his enemies still left alive. From all around the Earth.

Sasheem fell into not sleep, but hibernation, hiding his ki so as to be undetectable...using the stones to dwell and harness the negative feelings of hatred and anger that permeated the Earth...

***

In an near-empty parking lot in Capital City on a relatively quiet night...one of the stars seemingly dropped out of the sky and fell to the Earth...but wait! This was no star...instead it was a ship, colored a sleek black and blue. It's front hood emblazoned with a golden emblem of the Galaxy Police.

A hatch opened atop it as a inposing, caped figure emerged, silhouetted by the moonlight. He wraps himself in his cape and sniffs the air before striking a pose, holding his right arm out to his side and pointing directly ahead with his left at absolutely nothing, while kneeling down on one knee.

"Injustice...this planet reeks of it," He stated, flipping around his pointing finger and forming it into a clenched fist. "For those who cry out for peace, my heart aches for thee!" He rose up, shaking his clenched fist in the air, before spinning around and grabbing his cape.

"The Master Strategist! Galaxy Police Elite Katchin Squadron! P-!"

"SHUT UP IT'S MIDNIGHT!" a voice called out from an apartment window behind the parking lot, whoever was yelling it, managing to toss apartment shoe out at the new arrival to Earth.

"Ah, I see! My apoligies, civilian!" The alien shouted back, speakin louder than he was previpusly, before turning back around and whispering, "The Master Strategist! Galaxy Police Elite Katchin Squadron...P-Sta!" He announced, quietly, while forming his hands in the shape of a P.

"Begin...the mission!"

[Monstrous Bird of Qin, Ou Ki]

A soft giggled was the reply of the mental link. 'Not exactly in the traditional way.' She teased. 'But that's fine. I like as you are. A lot of the fantasies are fun, but they don't beat the real thing. And I have you.' Her voice was slightly coy at the end.




".........."


Karine didn't respond instantly through the link, though surprisingly she didn't seem embarrassed rather a bit thoughtful. 'It can be..and uh. I guess in a lot of cases.' She flushed slightly, more out of thoughts of her parents with some of their..marks. Her parents potential sex life wasn't anything she wanted to be reminded of at all, like most young adults growing up.

'To fantasies, give me some time to think about it and I'll get back to you.'

So the rumours were true. Huh, must be a way of... marking mates, he guessed? Or maybe it just felt good, like a... mini version of what happened when they drank blood? Whatever the reason, it would be... interesting to see if Karine, uh... gave into that instinct. Totoma was fine either way, since it was more the process of discovering new things about his love that excited him.

'Y-yeah, I just sort of... kept talking when I should've shut up, there,' came his response to her 'i'll get back to you' comment. After that, he went silent, though the link was still open. He remained silent for a long while.

Totoma mostly kept his eyes on the ground, watching the ocean--and the occasional island--pass him by. He could sense Karine gradually gaining ground on him, though at this point 'winning' the race wasn't foremost in his mind. Rather, he was... thinking. About himself, about Karine, about the future, what sort of person he wanted to be. Finally, after a long while, he spoke.

'...so, uh, I learned a new ability from Miss Ishtar the other day. Haven't quite mastered it, and I want to put my own spin on it eventually, but you may have noticed that I haven't been as... ravenous the past few days. She calls it Haurvatat, and it's basically the ability to subsist only on water... somehow.' There was a pause, and then Totoma added: '...it's kinda weird, not being peckish in an hour and starving in two. Weird, but nice.'

There was another, more extended pause.

'...but miss Ishtar's way of teaching it was... very do or die. She reminds me of mom in that way.'

He was trying to make small talk, to pass the time until they got to Capital City, which... should be pretty soon, if he had his numbers right.

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

The frigid mountain air hung between the two women as Ishtar waited for Asha'rah's response.

Happy as the greeting had been, what was asked after was hardly of a similar bent; and despite the all-but overpowering need to traverse the heavens themselves to return to Ilargi, there was a flickering trepidation. And so the golden-eyed Oni waited. Never once paying mind to the chill that sought to sap her strength and slow her mind; or how the wind whistled and howled as it threatened- feebly- to cast each from the summit of the world. And in that was a curiosity of its own. This mountain, standing so tall as to give a view of the curve of the Earth itself, was not a place for even the bravest of the Earthlings.

Yet here they stood, and waited, and held council.

And just what had been the purpose of this venture, Asha'rah ?

But Ishtar was not alone. Beside her stood a pup blacker than coal, streaked with bone white patterns across its skull and back. Its ki had the air of the supernatural about it, lending it the 'smell' of one fresh out of the underworld. Yet...

"I doubt I could compare to the company of one as cute as Anubis," she said, giving the pup a bow of acknowledgment, "but I would enjoy walking this path with you as well."

In the end however, the answer came quicker than to be expected.

And after an offering of praise for the Tulpa- to which Anubis himself responded in kind, bowing his head as a show of understanding and respect- Asha'rah offered her answer; and in the end perhaps spared Ishtar herself a fate she could not have hoped to know.

She strode forward to meet Ishtar, then directed her attention to the last vestiges of the Northern Star in the morning sky. It would be much brighter soon enough.

"The stars await us Ishtar. They promise old ghosts to face, and new beginnings to forge. Let us see how we face them together."

At this, Ishtar glanced towards where last she had known the position of Tatenen, and Ilargi; before returning her eyes to Asha'rah's approximate own.

"We leave in the morning, then. I must offer my goodbyes to Sarada."

So it was then, the path was set ... and as the two returned to the Lookout for final preparations, something began to stir on the shard of a shattered moon ...

----

???, Shard of Ilargi

On the fragments of a moon shattered in the throes of anguish, the last of a long-forgotten Order, found its mind awoken once more. And the first thought of this relic's newfound consciousness was a simple one.

How many days ?

It could not say for sure. The stars were wrong ... So wrong.

Yet before the Fall ... that fateful day when the Deceiver. The Defiler .. the Corrupter of the Moonsworn, had ruined that which it had been created to protect; it had been gifted a final means of preparation for the task it had been given. The ability to see the past, and know the future. So it relied on such now. Turned its mind back to that catastrophic ending, so that it might determine a number ... so that it might look ahead and she what was yet in store. And in realizing such truths, it found within itself a momentary pang of anger.

Approximately One-Million, Eight-Hundred and Sixty-Eight Thousand, and Seventy.

Five thousand, one hundred years. Five millennia since that abomination had corrupted the High Priestess, and been allowed into their holy order. Nearly sixty-two thousand months, since the Moonsworn had purged the corruption with blood ... and nearly two hundred and sixty-two thousand weeks ... since that ruinous daemon had shattered the Moon. And had the creature died, in hits thrashing ?

No. It yet persisted, and even more, it returned.

And so it was known now, the reason for its awakening. The time had come to finish what had been started all those years ago. To complete the purification of the Order so that it could be rebuilt, and restored to its former Glory. Before the High Priestess had fallen victim to the seductions of an Outsider. To one neither a Daughter of Iah, nor a Child of Ilargi. And imbued as it had been, with the fragmentary might of all those dozens of Moonsworn; and gifted as it had been with the might of the Priestesses themselves ... it knew it had such power.

And as it rose, and gazed towards the heavens as it awaited the return of its ancient enemy, and as it felt all those flickering fragments of Ka, and Ki, and soul glimmering in the core of its being. It knew.

It was the Last Moonsworn ...

It was Legion.

And its quarry would be here soon.

---

One Month Later, Tatenen's Orbit

The first few weeks of travel stood out, for Ishtar in particular, given the nature of what had been learned, and felt, and shared, between herself and Sarada. After all, the Saiyan's prideful return to her home, Vocado, had been felt and experienced by the golden-eyed Oni herself. And as the girl offered Ishtar her pride, and accomplishment at achieving the rank of Elite in a mere three months, the Oni had offered her own happiness.

Over the course of the next few days however, what positive emotions had been experienced in Sarada's return; had shifted. And despite the distance, Ishtar knew what that meant. The girl had made good on her promise to confront her own echoes of a painful past, and as Ishtar experienced all of the pain and suffering spawned in this moment; she offered what comfort, and reassurance she could. Reminding the girl that along with those other victims of this beast, Dashir, there was yet another who was there for her. And when that confrontation was finally ended, Ishtar had continued to provide the Saiyan with a positive stream of emotions as best she could. Hoping- somewhat childishly even- that she would not be forgotten in the noise of Sarada's three-month stay. A thing she wished for, even more than she wished to learn the truth of her past that had forced the two to separate in the first place.

Such reactions, and effort on Ishtar's part to stay connected- in so small a way- with Sarada, had not been missed by Asha'rah however, and as the weeks continued on as the two women had traveled; the Oni had discussed with Asha'rah the connection of Aka Manah and offered insight into her past. Telling the former Goddess of Creation, of how she had been pulled from the Timeless Garden with promises of knowledge, and the method of how such knowledge had been realized. In this time, as well, the two had trained together, Ishtar eager to show Asha'rah- the one responsible for her salvation months before- the training that had been offered her by Sarada, and the refinement of such training at the hands of Tasure. Effort too, had been expended by the golden-eyed Oni, on fostering her relationship with Anubis, the adorable abomination who was a thought-form Daemon made manifest. And so it was that the weeks bled into a month ...

And despite the trepidation, and uncertainty she now felt upon achieving the goal that had pulled her away from Sarada, and the comfort found in her presence and embrace; The golden-eyed Oni could not say that the month-long journey had not been one of new insights, strange happenings, and enrichment. And all of it, good and bad, had been thanks to the company of Asha'rah; and the bond that was shared- even across the vast distance between the Oni's destination, and Vocado- with her lover, Sarada. Yet the time had come now, to discover the truth of the echoes that had rippled across the cosmos to summon her now ...

So as the craft slowed, and made ready to make landfall; Ishtar approached the smallish window and pressed a hand against it as she stared out at what had taken her, and Asha'rah both; a month to find.

Ilargi:

And as the Oni stared at the shattered remnants of a long dead moon, she could only wonder what would be uncovered.

[Cthulhu_of_R'lyeh]

Sarada leaned into the kiss, and almost wished she had the nerve to ask Ishtar to join her. The intentions were clear enough, but her not verbalizing them meant she wanted to go at this alone. For now. Next time; if it wasn't too weird for the Oni, that was. They weren't technically related, even though they called each other cousin.

"Thanks," she spoke when the kiss was broken and her query answered. With a knowing smile, she turned and quickly walked into the sleeping quarters. She entered quietly, in case the red Oni was asleep.

Ishtar made a note of Sarada's unspoken desire to mate with both Oni, before watching her hurry away towards the sleeping quarters so that she might make good on her desires to bed Nunlil as well. There was a flicker of jealousy at the knowledge as she envisioned such, as well. After all, it was not simply her cousin mating with a random woman ...

It was Sarada.

Yet in the end it was not the Oni's decision to decide who Sarada enjoyed herself with. Besides ... it was embarrassing enough for the Oni, realizing that her feelings for the Saiyan had begun to develop beyond what had been planned for. Letting jealous filter through the connection simply enhanced that. So after some effort on her part, the feelings passed.

---

Nunlil was not asleep, when Sarada approached her in the sleeping quarters. She was simply relaxing after a full day of her own training; and after acknowledging the Saiyan's presence the pink-skinned Oni offered her a knowing smile. After all, the Oni could sense that the girl was slightly stronger than she was now. Her reason for seeking the Oni out was almost painfully obvious.

"Ishtar mentioned you might be stopping by ... I can only guess at why."

Leaning back against the bed then, Nunlil chuckled.

"So let us get right to it. Here, or elsewhere ?"

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Ishtar made a note of Sarada's unspoken desire to mate with both Oni, before watching her hurry away towards the sleeping quarters so that she might make good on her desires to bed Nunlil as well. There was a flicker of jealousy at the knowledge as she envisioned such, as well. After all, it was not simply her cousin mating with a random woman ...

It was Sarada.

Yet in the end it was not the Oni's decision to decide who Sarada enjoyed herself with. Besides ... it was embarrassing enough for the Oni, realizing that her feelings for the Saiyan had begun to develop beyond what had been planned for. Letting jealous filter through the connection simply enhanced that. So after some effort on her part, the feelings passed.

---

Nunlil was not asleep, when Sarada approached her in the sleeping quarters. She was simply relaxing after a full day of her own training; and after acknowledging the Saiyan's presence the pink-skinned Oni offered her a knowing smile. After all, the Oni could sense that the girl was slightly stronger than she was now. Her reason for seeking the Oni out was almost painfully obvious.

"Ishtar mentioned you might be stopping by ... I can only guess at why."

Leaning back against the bed then, Nunlil chuckled.

"So let us get right to it. Here, or elsewhere ?"

So, Nunlil wasn't asleep, but rather resting after another fruitful day of training. Good. What was better was that she knew exactly why she was there and cut right to the point.

Here or elsewhere. It didn't matter much to Sarada, but she opted to choose the latter. Privacy was a thing for a reason, and while it didn't bother Sarada in the least, it would have been considerate to take the others into account. Besides, if mating with Nunlil was anything like mating with Jack was, they would be better served being as far away from everyone as possible.

"Elsewhere," she answered while licking her lips. She gave no reason. It didn't particularly matter, and she didn't want to waste anymore time. With that said, she offered her hand to the red Oni so they could be teleported to a place they could have to themselves.

[The Dog]

In one of the Capsule Corp labs, Midori sat in front of one of the computers, looking over the files she had planned to download into her 'mind'. It was frankly staggering, including all the various science fields she would need to do this as well as a few broadsword-based fighting styles. The information ready, Midori took a deep, calming yet unnecessary breath.

She hadn't been lying to Asha'rah when she said this was dangerous. Downloading it into a human's brain would cause them to suffer a massive seizure and likely result in brain death from the brain being overwhelmed by it. If this went wrong, she'd likely suffer either the loss of everything that made her who she was to make room for it, or she'd suffer a fatal system error and shut down permanently.

But she had to do this, so she wasn't relying on Shiro to spoonfeed her everything and she could give the same kind of help to Shiro. Grabbing a cord, Midori plugged it into the computer and the port in her head. Grabbing the mouse, Midori hovered the pointer over the download barrier, staring at it as if it would allow her to know if this would work or not.

'Nothing ventured, nothing gained.' Midori thought, and with a mutter of "Plus Ultra." she clicked the button.



Midori was frozen in place, hands gripping the armrests of her chair, eyes wide and pupils pinpricks as a seemingly endless deluge of information was being downloaded directly into her mind. It was overwhelming, drowning her in all the information she'd desired, almost as if she'd wished for this on a monkey's paw. It was actually beginning to hurt, starting mild at first but quickly growing into a throbbing headache, like her head was going to explode.

She was gonna die. They were going to find her body in this chair hooked up to this computer.

Then, all at once, it was over. Midori slumped back in her chair, eye staring at nothing as she tried to regain her senses as her mind worked on sorting her new information. She wasn't sure, but she was certain that she had survived, though her head was in incredible pain.

Now, as soon as her brain finished sorting the information, she could finally get to work.

[grampagen]

"....For a woman painted as a sadist by research, and aggressive by my own estimate, I didn't realize we were speaking of passive aggression." The Nevadian retorted, her riddles and ridicule of his comrade not going unnoticed, "I won't claim to understand him, but I can't imagine anyone who puts their life on the line as steadfastly as he does to lack belief....And I can't imagine Ochazuke as nothing, if not resolute. I would have you speak your words plainly, if you really had anything worth saying."

This bitterness.....She seems even more annoyed by him than by me, or even this turn of events....What the hell is up with these two?

"I didn't come to your base for Justice, Kenshiko." Held explained patiently, despite his irritation at the sanctimony of a sadist and cruel criminal growing by the moment, "I came to save your world, not to render judgement, or to change it." He picked up a capsule and examined it, noting a tinge of fresh blood on the capsule, that clearly was not his. He grimaced slightly.

"I'll leave such things to beings with far more ability than I in that regard--"

The Nevadians train of thought was cut off, as he was so entranced by his riches, that he had perhaps dropped his guard.

Kenshiko fell silent for a moment. Held's challenge seemed to stir something in her apathetic, taunting mask. Ripples shook and scattered the image, revealing a distorted something as it disturbed something beneath.

“He's my last living student.”

No obfuscation of the matter, only the simple truth. She spoke tersely, the smoulder of her admission betraying the bonds of nostalgia and a hint of longing, in spite of her voice quavering as if to absorb the rude upturn of an dark joke.

“Dossiers and documents. How convenient. They don't tell you what it's like to live it,” she said. “To answer the call and lift up another life from nothing. The responsibility for the people who depend on you, to accept the duty of those who came before you.”

Her fangs disappeared in the shadow, a streak of red reflection catching the light of the control panel in a path down her face.

“And to feel everything moving you forward drag you down, knowing everything precious taken from you is carried on by a pretender fool,” she said, “you don't know what that's like, Xeno. But I didn't have your papers before you decided to come in and fill your pockets. That's enough of an estimate for me."

"Hell, I don't even know your name.”

Willia.....

The Nevadian glanced at her for a moment. It seemed like ages since they had spoken, the last time being at the point of blades during the Capusle of The World tour. In her current state, she was a far cry from the confident, powerful warrior who took what she want with little concern to anything else.

But, she was merely a secondary concern at the moment.

Held was silent for a moment, stunned at Jinzi's surprising candor towards Kenshiko and the others. The billionaire had always been calm and collected---A bit erratic to be sure--and to see him otherwise was quite surprising.

...I guess it makes sense he'd be so pissed. They've been hunting him down like a dog, and they then take the chance to piss all over his work. I guess I should applaud his restraint in this case.

"I'd say something about how we should all cool down, but I suppose I should be happy that we've reached a point where bloodshed isn't feasible." He said with a sigh, "But, you know there's no way to please everyone, Jinzi."

“Please.”

Jinzi says, leaning against the doorway.

“You talk big but the truth is my money is clean and earned the right way. Yeah, I’ve gotten rich off of my inventions but they in turn have changed the world for the better, hell poverty is almost non existent thanks to Capsule technology. But sure, steal from me and it’s ok. So what. So what about the thousands that nearly died on the Capsule of the World? No cost to high, huh? Just like the World Government says right? How very humanitarian of you. I spend billions making a geofront to protect people from harm, all free of cost and out of pocket, but sure, it’s ok to steal from me because I’m the bad guy monster billionaire fatcat, right?”

Jinzi huffs and leads Willa inside, locking her into a chair after making sure her ki binders were affixed tightly.

One might suppose this little Capsule Corp Banter, about what's inside these Capsule Corp Capsules, in the confines of this Capsule Corp Ship would be enough for Jinzi Pantaloon to rest upon contented. It's not every day one finally manages to meet the face of a brand, and by the shadowed expression on her face, Kenshiko had found exactly what she wanted. Drifting her gaze listlessly towards him as he entered the craft, it was clear she'd expected nothing in the first place. He'd offered her and Willa a modicum of comfort before they were to face their sentence, but now that there was no audience to play to, he'd finally said his piece.

She saw the Colonel there bound in her energy-shackle irons. Kenshiko's gaze fell, impassive, as the Master Sergeant looked right through her Commanding Officer. An errant strand parted before her eyes where she locked them absently between her and Jinzi.

“It bothers you doesn't it? Not having complete control,” she said, her voice falling unbecomingly soft. “All the lovely things you've designed, all the monuments to yourself you've built, all the little things you raised up, the thought that they just might one day break down and come to nothing...”

She paused. Something between a cough - or perhaps a laugh - seized her speech. Kenshiko pressed her trembling lips together for a moment and swallowed. What she held in was broken with a long sigh, hollow resignation burning out of her like smoke.

“Congratulations. You're one in a handful. It's all so simple a thing, up until something doesn't line up with your simple vision. Then it just needs to go away, forgotten. Well I won't let you forget,” she said. “Grinthorn's been the Prime Minister for how long? In the name of unification, how many acceptable losses do you think he allowed, turning a blind eye masking it with speeches about justice, and moving up, up, up?"

"Every day I've heard their stories. Broke bread with the survivors. Their voices weren't heard, these lives lost to a closed-door vote. Can you give them back their lives? Who fights for the forgotten?”

Her unblinking eyes flit to the Colonel for a moment, and an unspoken tension filled the air before returning to the space between the parties gathered, the firmament of spirit released to nothing, empty.

“The truth is I’ve done more good in this world then you ever have, will, or could, and all without stopping to your level. You revolutionary types are all the same, all talk but no game. Break the system but don’t offer anything in its place. I prefer to fix it from within, but I suppose the less copious amounts of bloodshed and opportunities to loot from people turns you off, hmm?”

He looks at a Held.

“I’ll pay you in echange for whatever monetary loot you got from them, and I’ll make sure whatever valuables you give to me will go back to their owners. No blood money for the good Sergeant to concern herself with.”

“Truly, you are the biggest humanitarian,” she continued. The rebellion bled out of her voice as she straightened herself where she sat prisoner. “That sort of **** sustains you, eating the hopes and dreams of other people. Makes you feel real big before you slap your logo on them. What a winner.”

The faint outline of the red axehead insignia on her chest, dyed in blood, faded to black in the darkness. It became increasingly unclear just to whom the fallen Tiger Master was speaking to right now, Held, Jinzi, or Willa.

“The truth is you really can't stand people at all, can you? Not unless they follow in your vision,” she said, “Why don't you just shrink down the world and stuff it into your pocket?”

[grampagen]

Samson nods.

“The rest will take weeks to decipher, but I have found one. Its located only about two hundred miles from here!” He says, excitement coloring his words.

“Shall we explore?”

"If you have the means to get there safely, then we'll see it done," Ochazuke said, pulling a sleeveless white shirt over himself.

He hadn't known him long, for their acquaintance broken by the the grace of Zaofan's deed. Yet Samson's passion was unbecomingly boyish for a man his age. Certainly he could not blame him. After a life held hostage, toyed with under a fickle dictator like Simon Battersea, the possibilities now must seem endless. His spirit was infectious, defying Ochazuke's expectations for a man he'd initially been quite suspicious of.

In fact, the fall of the Dragon Monks when he'd first heard of it had filled him only with thoughts of darkling humor and irony. Those who'd dedicated their lives to guarding their hoarded treasure fell in their purpose, stolen from under them by someone greedier and much more miserly than even they he'd seen as worth nothing short of mockery. Generations gathering untold sums of precious things to one place, reaped by the hand of one who simply wanted it more with the means and might to seize it. A martial artist must always be ready, much less a legacy art that never seemed to leave the confines of its litany of worldly attachments to represent itself.

He'd thought them cowards that deserved their fall before. Today he understood not all things of value stood in a monuments. The Dragon School's second chance rest on the three of them, and soon they would see the shape of the history they inherited in common.