My name is Akira Kazama, and this is not my story.

This is the story of a boy and a girl. It starts in a world like your own: a
world of science and physical laws, where fantastic things either don't exist
or are so rare that they may as well not. The boy named Aaron lived in this
world, and he became a fan of imaginary worlds where people lived extraordinary
lives. Worlds like those of Ranma 1/2, Sailor Moon, Street Fighter and King of
Fighters, Guyver and Tenchi Muyo and Hellsing and many more.

Then he died.

Ukyou Kuonji was an extraordinary young woman. When she was young she was
engaged to Ranma Saotome, whose father then abandoned her and ran off with the
dowry. Since then, she dedicated herself to training in her family's school of
martial arts, and renounced her femininity, living as a boy. One day, she
planned to track down Ranma Saotome and his father, and have her revenge on them
both.

Or so she told herself.

For reasons neither understood, the soul of the deceased boy named Aaron
awakened one day within the mind of Ukyou Kuonji. Ukyou's spirit remained also,
but two souls are not meant to live with only one mind or body between them. So
it was that the memories of Aaron flooded into Ukyou's psyche, and the memories
of Ukyou's past flooded into Aaron's. But something kept them from blending
together completely. It took them only a short while to come to an understanding
of the other, and to learn how to use Ukyou's body without their contradictory
thoughts making all action impossible.

From that point forward, they had only one goal - the separation of their souls.
To this end, Aaron suggested they seek out an item of magical power, a sword
capable of granting three wishes. Ukyou agreed, even though she did not trust
his knowledge of the 'future' or believe that she and all she knew was a fairy
tale in his reality. But she had her own motives to go along: she wanted to go
to Nerima, where the wishing sword was, so she could confront Ranma at the place
Aaron insisted he was, or would be.

In Nerima, the two found the Tendo Dojo, where they didn't find Ranma but they
did find Akane Tendo. After an initial misunderstanding Akane and Ukyou became
friends, but Ukyou never revealed the truth about her knowledge of the future or
the other soul that travelled with her. Akane did learn of Ukyou's true gender,
and they even came up with a plan involving Ukyou's apparent gender to keep
Akane from being unwillingly engaged to Ranma by their fathers.

When Ranma arrived in Nerima, things began to go wrong for the two 'soul-mates'.
Ukyou discovered she still had romantic feelings for Ranma, and Aaron viciously
quashed those and made Ukyou promise not to confess her feelings until after
they were separated. They were also confronted by the spectre of Aaron's friend
Chris, who had travelled across the dimensions with him but been trapped as a
ghost-like spirit skipping from one corpse to another. Ukyou, acting more on her
anger towards Aaron then anything else, drove Chris off and refused to allow
Aaron to reveal himself to his old friend. They also discovered that the
Guardian of Time, Sailor Pluto, had taken a personal interest in them.

The next day, they set off to try and find Sailor Pluto by locating her
companions, the Sailor Senshi. Unfortunately, they walked into the middle of a
battle between the Dark Kingdom General Jadeite and the Senshi. When everyone
(including Ranma) was rendered helpless by Jadeite's ability to absorb life
energy, Ukyou and Aaron found a dark power deep in their soul that allowed them
to disrupt Jadeite's plan. It also allowed them to barely escape Sailor Pluto,
who showed up to kill them shortly thereafter.

The mysterious power had a price, weakening and injuring Ukyou by its use. After
Ukyou returned to Nerima, she found that her friend Akane and Akane's sister
Nabiki had been kidnapped by a woman called Kodachi. Ukyou and Ranma set off to
confront Kodachi, only to discover Chris had killed her and taken her body (and
martial prowess) for himself. Chris defeated them both but was unable to get
what he really wanted out of Ukyou, so he released his hostages and left.

Ukyou and Aaron did not have much time to recover. They were tracked down by
Jadeite once again, who confronted them. Ukyou managed to drive him off by
blowing off his arm. This, unfortunately, only enraged Jadeite further. He
kidnapped Akane's sister Nabiki to draw all of Ukyou's friends to him at Narita
airport, where he and his companion Tethys would destroy him.

The battle at Narita was epic, and Jadeite managed to permanently scar Ukyou's
arm. With some help, Akane managed to destroy the trap that had stripped Ukyou
and the others of much of their power, and Ukyou then defeated Jadeite. The
helpless Dark General was destroyed by Sailor Pluto, who once again confronted
Ukyou with the intent to kill her. Ukyou was unable to defend herself, but was
saved by her friends - particularly a boy named Tsubasa, who had loved her from
before Aaron had entered her life.

The battle at Narita was watched by many, including Ran Hibiki, a teenage
reporter who made the story an international sensation. The world reacted as if
the existence of superhumans was a startling discovery, and forces in the
shadows watched with interest. On a more personal level, one of Ukyou's old
enemies, a boy named Hayato, was attracted by her fame. He challenged her to a
duel.

Ukyou accepted, even though she felt no reason to fight Hayato. But during the
course of the battle, he insulted her pride and sense of self. Ukyou tapped into
the dark power inside her again and shattered Hayato's spine, crippling him for
life. Horrified by her own actions, Ukyou fled.

Ukyou tracked down a boy named Ryo Urawa, a psychic capable of seeing the
future. He told her of a prophecy, a foretelling he and all the other
precognitives of the world had shared. In it Ukyou stood upon a dark plane
confronting a terrible enemy and with her first strike unleashed a power so
terrible it destroyed all reality. Sailor Pluto showed up shortly thereafter and
tried to kill Ukyou to prevent the terrible future she too had seen, but this
time was defeated outright.

Ukyou returned to Nerima, but found herself suddenly bereft of friends. Tsubasa,
who had loved her, left her with a word of warning about the path she was
following. Tofu Ono, a doctor who had taken her in, forced her to leave. Ukyou
herself began to lash out at her friends, insulting and driving Akane away. She
also alienated Ranma's mother and the rest of Ranma and Akane's families as
well.

Ranma was her only remaining companion. He overlooked her bad judgement,
preferring to stay loyal to his friend. This proved fortunate, as a woman named
Rose appeared with Sailor Pluto to try and destroy Ukyou. Rose was more than a
match for Ukyou and only Ranma's timely arrival saved her life. But at the same
time Hayato reappeared, mysteriously healed.

It was around here that I first met Ukyou. She was recovering from her battle
with Rose at a school where friends of mine went. I was sent to Ukyou by another
friend of mine on a mission to 'cheer her up'. I'm not certain if I succeeded.
Shortly after I met Ukyou, Hayato reappeared.

He kidnapped Ukyou, taking her to a place where her friends couldn't help her.
There he revealed that he had made a deal with the demon Tethys. Tethys
inhabited his body, gaining his martial skill even as he regained the use of his
legs. The two of them working as one seemed more an unbeatable foe, especially
as Ukyou and Aaron were unwilling to draw on the dark power in their soul. But
somehow they won, and did so without using the mysterious power or killing their
foe.

Badly injured, Ukyou returned to Tokyo to try and find Sailor Moon. Sailor Moon
had, however, been attacked by the monsters of a powerful secret organisation
called Chronos, and driven into hiding. Ukyou was confronted by Chris, who had
switched bodies again but who was being driven mad, both by the same dark power
that Ukyou had so recently decided not to use and the recent discovery that his
former friend Aaron was alive and well as a spirit inside Ukyou. The battle that
followed was brutal, and Ukyou only survived because of the timely arrival of
Nabiki and her bodyguard Ryouga.

Nabiki had, however, not saved Ukyou out of the goodness of her heart. Ukyou had
made notes of the stories, the possible futures that Aaron knew, and partially
complete notes had fallen into Nabiki's hands. Nabiki wanted a favour from Ukyou
in return for her rescue - the whereabouts of the wishing sword. Ukyou agreed.
Ukyou was trying to turn over a new leaf, and as part of this effort she
promised never to use the dark power in her soul OR to take a life.

But Ukyou soon learned that those would not be easy promises to keep. A young
Sailor Senshi, one not yet awoken to her powers, had been kidnapped by a Spanish
assassin named Vega. We fought his henchmen, the Dolls, a group of young women
who had been brainwashed into suicidal obedience. To save their lives, Ukyou was
forced to use her powers to tie their life forces to the life of a man named
Mamoru Chiba. Mamoru had powers before this, but lost them in the aftermath. He
wished us luck as we went to confront Vega, Ukyou, Ranma, Ran, Ryouga and I
joined together to defeat Vega and save the girl. We succeeded, but Ukyou was
forced to take the young Hotaru away from her family because the whole household
had been possessed by demons.

Before Ukyou could decide what to do about the young girl who had been thrust
into her possession, or about the information she had given to Nabiki, tragedy
struck. Vega murdered Ran. Ranma, in a rage, tracked down Vega and fought him.
Vega was much stronger than Ranma, and even my help barely kept us alive.
Meanwhile Nabiki had taken the wishing sword. Ukyou tried to take it from her,
but at the last moment she decided to leave the sword with the unscrupulous
Tendo sister and come to help us instead. The help wasn't needed, since Ranma
finally defeated Vega. But Vega was still alive, and he promised to return to
torment us again. Ukyou stepped in and killed Vega, taking the decision out of
Ranma's hands without asking.

In the wake of this tragedy, Ranma wanted to leave Japan. Far across the world,
in England, a legion of vampires had descended and annihilated much of the
country. Ukyou and Ranma went there, taking young Hotaru with them, since her
father was tragically killed before he could be saved. I stayed behind.

I've always regretted that.

In England, Ukyou and Ranma found themselves confronting horrors they had never
even thought possible. They saved a young Senshi named Minako Aino from the
vampires, and evaded the undead headhunter Rip Van Winkle. In time they found
the last of the living resistance of England. But no sooner had they found
sanctuary then things turned sour again. Zoicite, another General of the Dark
Kingdom, was there as a spy, and Ukyou unmasked him. In spite, Zoicite revealed
to Millennium where Ukyou and the resistance movement was.

The wrath of Millennium was profound. Many died. Ukyou was drawn off once again
by Sailor Pluto and Rose, who confronted her away from the main battle. Ukyou
fought on, smashing Pluto's time staff and removing her ability to control time.
This alone would not have saved her, but at this point a man called Bison
appeared. The true master of Vega and the Dolls, he had grown intrigued by
Ukyou's power and wished it for himself.

Bison drove off Millennium, and attacked Pluto and Rose. The two chose to
confront him rather then finish off the weakened Ukyou. Ukyou, meanwhile, felt
her world crumbling. Young Hotaru, horrified by the carnage around her and
driven by the demon her father had placed into her soul, had awakened to her
powers and was attempting to destroy the whole world. Ukyou drew once again on
the dark power and managed to stop Hotaru. In the process she destroyed the
demon inside Hotaru and took much of the young girl's power.

In the wake of the battle, Ukyou began to think there was no way to escape her
fate. Step by step the future of the prophecy was unfolding no matter what she
did. With a heavy heart she sent Hotaru away, convinced she would be safer away
from Ukyou. She also drove Ranma away, playing on his lingering resentment from
when she had killed Vega. Then she journeyed to the heart of Millennium to
destroy them, and possibly die herself.

But she learned that Millennium had captured Hotaru and killed her. In a rage
she destroyed Millennium's flying fortress, but her will was broken. When Bison
confronted her, she was in no condition to fight him. But fight she did, until
Bison revealed that he had captured Ranma and held her one true love's life in
her hands. Aaron had, all unknowing, fallen in love with Ranma too. Neither
could stand to see Ranma hurt, so they surrendered in a moment of weakness and
despair.

That was seven years ago. Ranma was released and believes Ukyou dead. Akane
fights a hopeless battle against monsters that control her homeland and has all
but forgotten Ukyou. Nabiki has used the power of the wishing sword to make
herself the queen of a criminal underworld, and she seems to have forgotten
Ukyou as well. One by one, all the others have forgotten she ever existed, or
given up on trying to discover the truth.

Everyone except me.

My name is Akira Kazama, and THIS is my story.



                              C&A Productions Presents

                          A Work of Blatant Self-Insertion


                                   Hybrid Theory


                                Chapter 22: Forgotten


	Akira was surprised at how warm it was up here in the summer. She'd
always sort of thought of Scandinavia as a frozen wasteland. Once, when she'd
been very young, she and Daigo had watched a TV special about the "ice hotel"
they built there. She had been fascinated by the concept. The narrator had told
them that everything in them was carved out of ice, even the beds. She had asked
Daigo how the guests could sleep there without getting cold. He'd looked at her
and, with a completely straight face, had told her that he guessed Swedes just
had a higher tolerance for cold than Japanese.
	A font of cultural understanding her brother was not.
	Her cycle hummed under her as Akira drove down the Swedish highway,
trees passing by on either side. Her jacket was tied around her waist, the thick
knot keeping it from being dragged off by the wind. Her hair flowed with the
current and she had to resist the urge to close her eyes and just bask in that
soft cool caress of the open ride. Not that she was worried about crashing. Even
if she was going twice as fast as anything else on the highway, she knew that
her reflexes and senses were sharp enough that she could have driven twice again
as fast, on a highway twice as crowded, blindfolded and with one hand and still
not risked a crash. But appearances had to be maintained, and showing off like
that was one sure way to get yourself spotted.
	One more turn and the forest opened up and she could see Stockholm
spread out in the distance. She raised up in her seat, squinting to get a better
view. It was a pretty enough city. Stockholm was a city of water. Beyond it
Akira could see the wide midnight blue expanse of the Baltic Sea, and a large
lake was even closer. The city sprawled out from the water like a wave, a
strange juxtaposition of modern skyscrapers and ancient buildings. She slowed
down as she approached, allowing herself to just absorb the city as it grew
steadily to engulf her.
	This was probably the best part of travelling. Akira leaned back on her
bike, enjoying the feel of the city as it washed over her; the sights of the
buildings and the look of the people as they went about their daily business,
the sounds and the scents and the feel of the breeze; each of these was unique.
It went even beyond that. Every city had a different heart; a spirit to it that
a martial artist of Akira's calibre could feel like a wine steward could discern
vintages.
	Stockholm felt alive. It practically vibrated. Akira had been in cities
that had more energy: Hong Kong, for instance. But there was something special
about the way this city pulsed. It was like it was floating on a river of power.
Akira allowed a rare smile to grace her features as she enjoyed the feel of it,
cruising around the city without any particular plan or agenda.
	She got strange looks as she drove by. Not just because she was a
foreigner, though that was rare enough in these troubled times, she supposed.
She guessed it was her bike. Not many people had an old machine like this
anymore. She gunned the engine a little, just for fun, startling some people
nearby. She supposed even she would have to give it up soon enough. Gas was
scarce, with Chronos controlling most of the world's oil wells.
	The new hyper-combustion engines had replaced most old car engines these
days. France had exported the things to anyone willing to buy them, and they'd
caught on over the last few years. Akira didn't really like them. They may have
taken one tenth the fuel of a regular engine, but there was just something about
the old bikes that Akira appreciated. The HC engines didn't have the same kick
to them, the same feeling of naked power.
	Plus this bike had been with her for almost five years now. She'd picked
it up in Africa and driven it across Asia and back. It was covered in small
nicks and scratches and dents, a hundred reminders of the little adventures
she'd had over the years. This bike had survived landslides and explosions. She
had driven it through burning factories and outrun helicopters on it. She had
had to repair it a hundred odd times, gradually replacing everything from shocks
to throttle. This bike could off road as easily as an ATV and burn asphalt like
a racing bike.
	Plus she'd finally broken in the seat to the point she liked.
	Akira pulled to the side of the road, deciding that she was getting a
bit too melancholy over a simple motorcycle. Besides, it was time to start
getting to work.
	Akira's Swedish was non-existent, but her English had long since passed
fluent. Thankfully many of the people in this city spoke it, and after a few
aborted attempts she was able to track down a nice fellow who was willing to
give her directions. If he stared a little too long at her chest... Akira didn't
mind. The art of feminine distraction wasn't something Akira looked down on.
When you lived on the road as a hunted fugitive in half the world, you didn't
waste any resource on hand.
	The hostel Akira was directed to was in a rundown part of the city near
the waterfront. Here the scars of Millennium's hand still lingered. A few
buildings were still abandoned, a few more still had scorch marks and boarded up
windows. It gave the neighbourhood a brooding air, and the people within moved
about in a furtive manner. Here the city did not hum with life. The violence of
the war seemed to linger... like smoke in an enclosed room.
	The people on the street gave Akira more openly hostile looks as she
drove her bike up to the hostel. She ignored them for the most part, except for
a small group of young men with slick black hair hanging back near one corner.
There eyes didn't linger so much on Akira as on her bike. She frowned and
stepped off her cycle, turning to face them.
	They all made a big deal of looking anywhere but at her as she faced
them. Akira shrugged and turned back to her motorcycle. Then with a very slow
and deliberate motion she reached out with one hand and picked up the vehicle
that was half again as large as she was and carried it over her head as she
walked over to an alley she could deposit it so it would be out of the way. When
she turned back, the young turks were all staring at her. She smiled in a
vaguely threatening manner, patted her machine twice and entered the building.
	The old woman at the counter was fat, smelled of cigars and didn't ask
questions. She accepted what few yen Akira had left and handed her a key. The
girl gave her a genuine smile and then purposefully asked her where the local
arena was.
	The old woman gave Akira a half-lidded stare. Akira just did her best to
look innocent and hopeful, which was an expression she knew she projected rather
well. The old woman snorted and snuffed her cigarette out on the long abused
counter-top.
	"Not much call for sporting events, these days," the woman grumbled.
	Akira sighed. It always went like this. Nobody trusted the foreigner.
Not that Akira blamed her. She had no way of knowing if Akira was a zoanoid, or
a vampire or worse. Still, she wished that for once she didn't have to go
through this.
	"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about." Akira placed her
gloves on the counter and leaned over it slightly. "Every city has one. I should
know, I've been in most of them."
	The woman eyed Akira for another long minute. Then she made a sound like
a toad swallowing an insect and gave a wry chuckle. "Okay, fine. You a spectator
or a participant?"
	Akira frowned. She hadn't been above using the arenas to earn a few
extra dollars over the years, but that wasn't why she needed one now. What she
needed now was information. But she wasn't about to admit that.
	"Participant."
	"Not much to look at, are you?"
	Akira shrugged.
	The woman spat, managing to hit a garbage pail halfway across the room.
Akira was impressed despite herself.
	"Man you want to talk to is named Bert. You'll find him in the old town.
Tonight. This address..."

*

	The old city had survived remarkably intact. The buildings were still
mainly relics of an older era, connected by a series of narrow alleys. Akira had
to park her bike quite a few blocks away and walk the rest of the way. The place
was in terrible disrepair, and a lot of the area was poorly lit at this late
hour. Then again, that just might have been a mandatory blackout. Millennium
hadn't attacked Scandinavia since the disaster five years ago, but that didn't
mean they weren't willing to do so again.
	Bert turned out to be a small man with a wiry frame and a rat-like
mustache. His eyes glinted like flint and he had a nasty habit of rubbing his
nose with the back of his hand between sentences. He chuckled as he led her
through a series of short tunnels from the waterfront.
	"The take here is one thousand kronor flat, plus ten percent of the bets
if you win," Bert informed her as they made their way through the tunnels. The
air here smelled of the sea. They must have been old smuggling tunnels, Akira
guessed. Probably refitted recently from the looks of it.
	"Ten percent?" She frowned and crossed her arms. "That's a little light,
isn't it?"
	Bert looked at her oddly. Then he chuckled. "But you wouldn't know."
	"Know what?"
	Then he grinned and opened the door at the end of the tunnel. Akira
blinked, rubbed her eyes and blinked again.
	It wasn't an arena. It was a stadium. Row upon row of seats stretched
downward into the bowels of the earth, with marble columns that looked
impossibly delicate supporting the arched ceiling overhead. The fighting pit
itself was fifty meters across at the least, covered in soft sand with weapons
hanging from hooks along the wall; everything from brutal-looking clubs to
modern assault rifles. The rest of the stadium stretched out three times that
distance, with tier after tier of seats. And most of those seats were full. The
noise was deafening. Men and women screaming and cheering, bet takers
circulating with receipts and pouches full of cash, all underscored by the
intoxicating beat of violence as it played out in the arena below. There was no
way that somebody had just found or reconfigured something like this under
Stockholm. Somebody had made it specifically.
	Akira's eyes instantly found the sponsor's seat. It was on a dais that
jutted just out over the arena slightly, offering the best seat in the house.
The dais was flanked on both sides by long silk curtains and a lush divan. But
there was nobody there tonight.
	"I see..." Akira coughed into her gloved hands. "So, who built this
thing?"
	Bert laughed. "Who else?"
	"Zoicite..." Akira's managed to say it without any emotion leaking into
her voice. Truth be told, she didn't know exactly how she felt about that.
Zoicite was a name whispered about in the underworld. He was one of the Dark
Kingdom's top generals, and that was about all that was known about him. It had
taken Akira almost two months to track him down.
	The community Akira belonged to was an eclectic one: martial artists,
mystics and monster hunters that wandered the world from one city to the next,
owing no allegiance to any of the major powers, hunted by Chronos as terrorists
and by Millennium for sport. These arenas were how they met and fought.
	The only thing universal among them was the joy of the fight. It drew
them together, burned inside of them as a need to test themselves against their
peers. Every one of the people in the community wanted to be the next Ranma
Saotome or Ryu, legends who had never been defeated. At every corner of the
globe one could find some place where they gathered, to test themselves, to pass
on rumours and to earn cash for the next leg of their endless journey.
	Zoicite was a name a few in the community knew. He wasn't a warrior, but
he was well known throughout Scandinavia as a fan of the underground world that
Akira lived in. And Zoicite knew something about Ukyou. The leather of Akira's
gloves creaked audibly as she clenched her fists, even over the roar of the
crowd.
	"He's not here tonight," Akira commented, trying to keep his voice idle.
	Bert looked at her sharply. Then he grinned. "I'm afraid the card for
tonight isn't exactly the kind Lord Zoicite prefers to watch."
	"I see..." Akira forced herself to relax. "And if I wanted to meet him
in person?"
	Bert grinned, looking even more like a rat then he had before. He rubbed
his nose and giggled. "You're not his type."
	"I didn't ask if I was his type." Akira frowned and stared him straight
in the eyes. "I asked how I could meet him."
	The grin faded from the rat-faced man's features and he backed up a
step. He cleared his throat and rubbed his nose again, more nervously this time.
"I suppose something could be arranged. Lord Zoicite is a very busy man,
however-"
	"How much?" Akira cut him off.
	Bert considered that for a second. "There's a woman here tonight. She's
been touring the region recently, stopping off at the arenas. So far, she's been
undefeated and has become something of a fan favourite. Against a relative
unknown I guess the bets will go heavily in her favour..."
	"So I beat her, I get to see Zoicite?" Akira didn't like skating around
the issue.
	He smiled. "And if you gave up your share..."
	"Done." Akira agreed, grabbing his hand and pulling it up for a firm
shake. He blinked in startlement and his hand hung in the air for a few moments
after she released him. She started to walk past him. "You better call her down
to the arena. I don't have all night."
	Akira paused at the lip of the pit, placing her hands on the edge and
peering over. A pair of zoanoids were down there, going at it tooth and nail.
They were leaving long red lines in the dirt from their wounds and Akira turned
her eyes away. She hated watching zoanoids fight. There was no poetry in their
attacks, just savage power. Still, it surprised her that they were allowed in
this city. From what little Akira knew, this place was all but owned by the Dark
Kingdom. Then again, Tethys was renowned for her soft touch.
	Akira fidgeted uncomfortably at the thought of the Dark Empress, then
purposefully sidestepped the memories.
	A loud roar erupted across the crowd and suddenly everyone was standing.
Akira looked down and watched as one of the beastmen was being dragged from the
arena, the larger and more muscular beast raising its arms in triumph. At least
the other one was still alive, Akira mused. Then the thing in the arena paused.
	It was looking right at her. Akira cursed inwardly and maintained her
outward cool, pretending like she hadn't noticed. But the beast had gone silent,
and it was staring at her long and hard now. The stone under Akira's hands began
to crack, but she kept her expression neutral and didn't meet the thing's gaze.
	Finally the zoanoid was led out of the arena by an official. Akira
forced her muscles to untense. Her every instinct told her that it was time for
her to go. She wasn't as wanted by Chronos as Akane or Ranma, but she wasn't
exactly an honoured citizen either. By all right she should turn around and walk
straight out of this stadium. She shouldn't stop until she'd found her bike and
then she should ride right out of the entire country.
	But...
	Hidden loudspeakers suddenly blared to life. They were screaming
something in Swedish so Akira couldn't make out what it was. But she did
recognise her name when the man screamed it at the top of his lungs. For a split
second Akira's common sense warred with her emotions.
	Akira vaulted into the arena like an acrobat, using her hands on the lip
of the pit like a springboard. She spun and twirled in mid-air, letting her hair
and the jacket tied around her waist flash and whip around her. When she reached
the apex of her leap she spun into a tight ball and added a little chi to her
momentum, coming down at the floor like a meteor. She landed in a crouch, her
arms extended to either side like wings. The sand burst up around her, flaring
out in a brief hemisphere before settling to the arena floor in a cloud. The
crowd roared and Akira smiled.
	They had come here for a show, after all.
	Akira rose slowly, adjusting her gloves one at a time. She was already
tuning out the crowd by the time the door on the far side of the arena opened
and her opponent stepped out. Her entrance wasn't nearly as spectacular as
Akira's had been, but she made up for it in sheer presence.
	Akira felt her breath briefly catch at the sight of her. She wasn't tall
or short, and her build was slim... almost delicate. But muscles rippled on her
thighs under the skin-tight jeans she wore as she walked. Her face was stunning,
perfectly shaped with large lips and thick lashes, not the least compromised by
the golden tattoo that adorned one side of her face. A thick lock of snow-white
hair fell over her right eye and her ears were pierced multiple times. She wore
a midriff-baring leather jacket over a tight navy blue t-shirt that molded
itself to her breasts. A thick belt flopped around her waist, hanging off one of
her hips, and on her left thigh a sword had been tied. The sword looked old-
fashioned, with a jeweled hilt.
	The sight of the sword brought Akira back to herself. She blinked and
willed away the distraction. The crowd was roaring and cheering as the young
woman, no... little more than a girl actually, made her way into the arena. She
turned and waved to the crowd, soaking in the attention. Akira caught a brief
glimpse of the symbols sewn into the back of her jacket.
	Mirai. The Japanese word for 'future'.
	Finally the crowd died down and the woman turned to level her gaze on
Akira. Akira met it without letting much show on her face. The girl grinned, a
grin filled with good cheer, and said something in Swedish. Akira shrugged and
raised her hands to indicate she hadn't understood.
	"Japanese?" the girl asked in Akira's native tongue. Akira blinked.
	"Yes," she replied evenly.
	"Hey cool," the girl's grin widened. "You're a long way from home, taka
taka."
	"I guess that's true," Akira said, pausing to consider the statement. It
rang false to her, but she couldn't pin down why.
	"My name's Angel, what's yours?"
	"Akira."
	"Looks like you'll be more of a challenge than most of the scum this
place rounds up," Angel called cheerfully. She grabbed the hilt of her sword.
"Though it would be a shame to cut up such a pretty face."
	Akira blushed despite herself, then shook it off. "Don't hold back on my
account. I've faced worse than a sword in my day."
	Angel let out a short sharp laugh. "I'm sure you have." Angel tilted her
head to the side, considering something. "Tell you what..." She crouched on one
knee and reached down with both hands to untie the sword on her thigh. For a
moment Akira wondered if she was going to toss it away. Then the girl stood up,
still holding the hilt from which the ties dangled. "I'll make this a friendly
match." She looped the ties around the crossguard on her blade a few times then
cinched them tight before finishing the process off with a quick knot. "Here,
why don't you examine it?"
	Akira caught the softballed blade with one hand then tossed it back
without even looking at the knot or ties. Angel blinked. Akira shrugged. "Do
whatever you want."
	Angel smirked. "Fine."
	The fight almost ended there. Akira fell back as the sand exploded
behind Angel, and she came in fast enough to leave a wake. The sheath of her
sword almost caught Akira right on the temple. Almost. Akira grimaced as pain
shot down her wrist. She had parried that blow badly, caught it on a joint.
Angel continued smirking and then she was attacking again. Akira fell back again
and again under the girl's onslaught.
	She was fast. Much faster than Akira had expected. Plus she wielded that
sword with the skill of a master. It wasn't just a weapon for her, it was an
extension of her arm. They way she spun and thrust it spoke of years and years
of familiarity. That wasn't a blade Angel had picked up yesterday; it was a
weapon she had been using for years. It was as much a part of her as her hand or
her foot.
	Akira concealed a smile. Well, she hadn't had a challenge like this in
years.
	Her hands came up again and again, batting aside the girl's increasingly
swift blows. Yet even as the strikes accelerated, Akira's defence kept
improving. The power of Akira's chi flowed through her, responding to attacks
she couldn't even perceive, to ones that Angel hadn't even started yet. The girl
was making an amateur mistake. Even as her speed and concentration increased,
they were rapidly passing the point where Angel could consciously direct each
blow. She was striking from pure muscle memory for half her attacks, starting a
dizzying array of patterns, each more complex and intricate than the last.
	Against a lesser foe, they might just have overwhelmed on sheer speed.
Even the most skilled fighter could only stay a step ahead of the pattern for so
long. Akira herself probably would have started letting blows slip past her
guard eventually, if the girl managed to keep upping the pace with each strike.
Thankfully, she had far more options than just defending herself.
	Akira breathed in, relaxing her muscles even as she upped her speed
another notch to compensate for the strikes. She listened and found the sound of
her heart beating, the pulse of her blood in her veins. And as the blood flowed
around her entire body, so did her chi, her very spirit. She concentrated
and her hand came up, a ripple of chi passing up her arm leaving goosebumps in
its wake. Her palm deflected another blow, and Akira felt her chi resonate
through the blade, flowing down it like a stream.
	The effect wasn't spectacular. In fact it was so minor that nobody but
Akira even noticed. But the minor vibration had thrown off Angel's pattern just
the slightest bit, throwing her next blow less than a centimeter off target.
There Akira met the blow again, and again her chi pulsed down the blade,
throwing the pattern off. For almost a second Akira met the onslaught, pushing
Angel more and more off balance without the girl even realising it.
	Then Akira smiled, a dangerous wild smile. Angel blinked as Akira
touched her blade one last time and suddenly the girl found the weapon jerking
in her hands. It slipped past Akira's right cheek, missing by less than an inch.
But Angel wasn't able to halt its momentum, and her thrust was carrying her one
step off balance.
	With a roar like a crashing wave Akira slammed her palm into Akira's
stomach. For a moment time seemed to slow to a crawl as Angel floated gently
backward, her toes reluctantly parting from the floor. Then the sand around them
exploded in all directions at once, a great wave that blasted across the arena.
Angel blasted ahead of that wave, driven like a cannonball. The wall halted her
flight with a resounding boom that shook the stand on that side of the stadium.
Cracks spiderwebbed out from the impact point.
	Akira started forward, her boots clacking on the hard stone her attack
had exposed. Angel was staggering to her feet, clutching her stomach and
hissing. But she was still holding her blade in her other hand. And she was
grinning.
	"Not bad, old timer," Angel said, managing to keep the pain out of her
voice. "Round one to you." She gestured Akira forward with her blade and Akira
obliged her.
	She came in straight, firing off a jump kick aimed right at Angel's
head. The girl stepped back, then ran backward up the wall, flipping over
Akira's head just as the blow shattered the abused stone. She landed behind
Akira, her sword already slashing out before she even reached the ground. Akira
bounced back from the cloud of debris, arching back like a gymnast. The blade
passed just over her nose. Then she was hand-standing on the soft dirt. Angel
spun with her inertia, turning her entire weight behind a sweep kick. Akira
frowned and pushed off, launching herself into a reverse cartwheel that landed
her behind the girl.
	Angel muttered a curse and spun her blade in her palm, reversing her
grip and thrusting it backward at Akira. The older girl danced backward away
from the probing weapon. Angel didn't pause to let Akira regain the momentum.
Her body completed its spin, coming to face her opponent. She was crouched on
the ground, one foot still extended from her missed sweep. Her hand whipped
forward, carrying her blade with it. Akira was far too distant to strike, but
the target was not her.
	The edge caught the sand, geysering a line of it into the air and
blocking her from sight. Akira snapped herself to a ready position and waited a
single heartbeat. But when the dust settled, no attack had come and the girl was
gone. Akira spun her head and extended her senses, trying to find her opponent.
	With a gasp she felt a power coming straight down on her. She rolled
onto her back, snapping her body into a handstand kick. Angel caught her feet
with one palm and her other continued its downward thrust. The tip of the
sheathed weapon just touched the end of Akira's nose before it reached the limit
of its length. Akira let out a sigh.
	Then she allowed her hands to fall out from underneath her. Angel
blinked as she and Akira both plummeted, but Akira was bending herself backward,
impossibly limber. The tip of the sword struck the dirt and Angel's arm snapped
ramrod straight as she balanced on it for a fraction of a second. That was all
the time it took Akira to sweep it out from under her, before launching herself
backward with a thrust of her other leg. Angel managed to land on one foot a
half dozen meters away.
	Akira shook her glove, dislodging some grit from it, and frowned. That
had been close. Angel only smiled, then her form flickered and she was moving
in, juking side to side. Akira firmed up her stance, and then the sand pile to
the side of her exploded. Akira wasn't about to let the same trick work twice.
Her hand came up and she let her aura loose just a little. The sand burst back,
pushed away by a sphere of expanding force that kept it from coming anywhere
near Akira.
	But Angel wasn't finished. Instead of following the cloud of sand in,
she darted to the other side of Akira, her sword flashing down and sending up
another blast of sand to obscure Akira's sight. Akira met that one with her
other hand, pushing the sandstorm away. Angel's grin only widened and then she
was moving behind Akira, producing another geyser. Akira spun and crouched,
catching the cloud with her palm and sending it flying back. Again and again she
moved and spun, her aura flaring and snapping about her, gradually growing so
intense that the naked eye should have been able to discern it. And Angel just
kept moving, always staying one step out of range, her sword and arms flashing
as she sent up cloud after cloud of sand.
	"Clever girl," Akira commented aloud. "You guessed I have more power
than you. But every time I do this, I expend energy." Akira backhanded another
cloud of sand away with her aura. "While it takes you almost no energy at all
just to send up a cloud of smoke. What's more, you know I can't risk letting
these clouds obscure my vision: any time I lose sight of you, it's an invitation
to another attack."
	"Why thank you," Angel commented wryly, not pausing in her assault. "I'm
rather proud of it."
	"You should be." Akira smiled again. "But allow me to show you why that
doesn't have a hope of working." Angel frowned, and then her eyes widened a
fraction of a second before Akira let loose.
	Her aura exploded around her, a raging vortex of blue light, a force of
raw chi strong enough to send the sand near her flying away in all directions.
Angel threw up her arm, blocking the worst of it from hitting her face. But even
as she stopped for that, Akira was already moving. Her hand snapped out and
latched onto the other girl's wrist, just below her sword. Akira jerked her arm
up, wrenching Angel's up as well. The girl twisted painfully to prevent her
shoulder from being popped out. That left her side wide open as Akira gathered
all her power, shrinking her aura down to a pinprick in front of her other hand.
	When she slammed it into the girl's side, the sound was like a glacier
cracking. Angel screamed as her body was jerked backward by the pressure, but
Akira held her arm up and didn't let her fly free. The force nearly snapped
Angel's arm like a twig. The ground beneath them both shuddered, concentric
circles forming as the force of Akira's technique rippled through the world like
waves across a pond.
	Akira raised an eyebrow when she saw that Angel was still conscious.
That had been one of her strongest attacks, one step down from an attack that
could have done permanent damage, maybe even killed her. The girl was slumped in
Akira's grip, however, her legs dangling above the floor. Akira was just tall
enough to hold her an inch off the ground. Finally Angel coughed and her sword
fell from her limp figures.
	"Yield?" Akira asked somberly.
	"Heh," Angel grinned weakly. Up close the light glinted off the golden
tattoo on her face. It looked like stylized lightning bolts. "I guess you win
round two..."
	Akira allowed herself to smile. "Don't sweat it. You almost had me a few
times..." Akira trailed off and her head snapped around.
	The crowd was roaring, screaming, their excitement reaching a fever
pitch. Half the crowd was egging Akira on. Cries of 'Finish her!' were being
picked up by more and more people. They jumped and they waved and they roared
like wild animals.
	But Akira barely saw them. Way up, beyond the crowd and beyond the
screams and beyond the seats was Bert. He was standing with five women. Five
women Akira was certain she recognised. The oldest was a statuesque Chinese
woman with long black hair and a form-hugging suit of silver silk embroidered
with a pastoral scene. She carried a long rake over one shoulder. Around her
were four young girls, each with a more ridiculous hair style than the last.
Bert was speaking, and although Akira couldn't hear what he was saying, the
message was clear when he pointed down into the center of the arena.
	Akira cursed. She should have obeyed her instincts.
	"What's going on?" Angel murmured.
	"Sorry to hit and run," Akira apologised, setting the girl down. "But I
have to get out of here."
	She released Angel and began to sprint for the exit. She began to curse
herself even more. She should have taken a few minutes to familiarise herself
with the layout of this place. As it was, she might end up running down a lot of
blind alleys in the tunnels.
	"She's running away!" someone, a young girl, called out in Japanese.
	"Stop her," an older, more authoritative voice snapped. But it sounded
oddly reflexive, not really filled with any malice. Still, Akira wasn't about to
pause and debate the motives of her attackers.
	She almost made it. A green and red blur arched over her head and landed
in front of the exit. Once done it resolved into two young ladies. The taller
one was the redhead, clothed in a skimpy little bikini that desperately wanted
to show off curves the girl just hadn't developed yet. The shorter one had green
hair done up so that large balls of it hung from the sides of her head and
dangled from an elaborate headdress. She wore a slightly less revealing outfit.
	Akira hissed and glanced over her shoulder. Angel was hanging in the
air, her heels held together and her arms splayed out on both sides. She was
struggling, but nothing was holding her. Then Akira saw the shortest of the
girls, the one with the blue hair, holding up a little doll towards her and
giggling. As the girl twitched one of the arms, Angel's arm twitched in
response. The tall silver-clad woman was staring straight at Akira, her pretty
face creased with a frown. The pink-haired girl stood just behind her.
	"Take her, too," the woman ordered.
	That settled it. Akira spun around to face the woman and assumed a
stance. She wasn't about to abandon somebody to... whoever these were.

*

	Cologne's eyes followed the nervous man's hand as he pointed down into
the arena. Of course she would be in the arena. That was what had drawn her
here, after all. She gestured sharply for the girls to follow her and she began
to make her way down the stairs to the floor. She allowed her fighting spirit to
leak a little bit from her body, and the crowd parted unconsciously away from
her, the way animals moved away from a predator. Cologne smiled. It was nice
having enough chi to be able to do things like that again. It really was the
little things you missed when you got old.
	Cologne noticed the other woman staring at her. She wasn't really short,
not for a Japanese girl anyway. Her long hair fell down in thick locks to her
shoulders, forming a bob-cut. She wore a pair of tight leather riding pants that
were creased and worn with years of use and had the matching jacket tied around
her waist. Her grey-brown muscle shirt did little to conceal her more feminine
qualities. Cologne narrowed her eyes, certain she recognised the young woman
from somewhere.
	Then she turned and sprinted for the exit.
	"She's running away!" CereCere shouted, her voice sounding slightly
more offended than normal.
	"Stop her," Cologne snapped, gesturing to VesVes and JunJun. Considering
the condition of the other girl, she doubted she would need them for her actual
mission, and those two were the best equipped to handle a woman who could run
that fast. The two gave a sharp nod almost in unison and then exploded forward,
their bodies nothing more than red and green streaks to the untrained eye. Even
Cologne would have had a hard time following their magically enhanced movements,
had she been paying attention.
	She was only halfway down the stadium, but she leapt the rest of the way
to the arena floor with a brief kick of her ankles. CereCere and PallaPalla
followed, each landing on the other side of her. She looked down briefly at the
woman who had given her so much trouble.
	Angel was young, a child really. Her ears were overpierced and she had a
strange tattoo of a lightning bolt creeping up the side of her face. It was hard
to believe this young thing could possibly be a tool of such a monster, but
Chris had a way of twisting those around him. Really, Cologne told herself,
she'd be doing the girl a favour.
	"PallaPalla," she indicated. The girl removed a doll from... somewhere.
Cologne had long since given up trying to figure out where the Amazoness Quartet
placed their magical spheres and other tools when they weren't in use. She
giggled as she pointed the doll at Angel, then lifted it into the air. The girl
rose in response, her body suddenly going rigid, held fixed in the same position
as the doll. Angel snarled. She was still conscious.
	"Just insurance you don't run away," Cologne explained. "I've been
tracking you for weeks. You really shouldn't have stayed in one area for so
long."
	"Who the hell are you, old woman?"
	Cologne felt her eyebrow twitch. When Frederick had convinced her to
undergo the process, her age had been reversed back to its prime. She was as
svelte and beautiful as she'd been when she was twenty-five, according to the
technicians. Hardly what Cologne considered old.
	"Watch your tongue," she warned, and turned to regard the other
combatant. Really, Cologne should have just let her go. It had been sheer
instinct to order her held. The woman had paused in the middle of the arena,
VesVes and JunJun blocking her escape route. She was looking back over her
shoulder at Cologne and the others, her expression frustrated.
	Then something she saw caused her to frown, and recognition hit Cologne.
She'd seen that face more than once on the wanted lists. Well, Frederick would
never approve of this mission if he knew its actual purpose, so if she handed
him an S-Class criminal he'd probably be mollified enough not to dig too deep
into what she was actually doing.
	"Take her, too," Cologne ordered.
	Akira turned to face Cologne fully, and her body firmed up into a
fighting pose. It might once have been tai chi, but time and experience had
hardened the stance and modified her motions to the point that Cologne knew
better than to judge her by that art's standards. But she herself only smiled.
This would be a good test of the girls' abilities. Five years of training had
honed them, now it was time to see if they could pull off what Cologne needed.
	JunJun made the first move, as always. Cologne reminded herself to have
a talk with her about her impulsiveness later. In the time it took that thought
to cross Cologne's mind, JunJun had already closed the distance between herself
and Akira. She came in low, then stopped abruptly and snapped her hands up and
straight, like a crane raising its neck. Akira parried the blow with disturbing
ease, then fell back as VesVes came in at her from the other angle.
	The girls laughed and cheered as they struck and danced with Akira. But
even with their magically enhanced speed and strength, they were no match for
the girl. The two of them together were just enough to force Akira to back up
step by step, her hands moving in subtle patterns that looked deceptively simple
yet warded off every blow.
	"Wow, they really suck," Angel offered.
	"Be quiet," Cologne snapped, but was unable to keep herself from
spotting all the openings in her students' forms. But she wasn't the only one.
Akira, she realised suddenly, had changed her stance. She was no longer just
parrying. She was leading. Forcing the girls' attacks more and more often into
each other. In a few seconds they would be thrown totally off balance and
then...
	"CereCere!" Cologne barked.
	"Right, right..." She stepped forward and with a gesture the pink orb of
her magic appeared floating above her palm. "It's up to me to save the day
again." CereCere smiled and snapped her ball forward, and suddenly a flurry of
rose petals erupted around her. The petals drifted forward, and despite their
lazy motion, crossed the space in the time it took Cologne's heart to beat once.
	Akira's head snapped around and she did two things at once. Her right
hand came up, and there was a soft blue flash. The petals scattered, blown back
by the force of her aura. At the same time her left hand smashed up between
VesVes and JunJun and there was another flash. The two yelled in surprise as
they were flung back like ragdolls.
	JunJun managed to land on her feet, VesVes came down with less dignity.
Akira stood still for a moment and Cologne could see her aura whirling and
flowing around her. She narrowed her eyes. This one was powerful. Blowing away
that magical wind with just the force of her aura was an impressive feat.
	"If it's any consolation, she used that trick on me too," Angel pointed
out.
	"Can't you silence her, or something?" Cologne asked PallaPalla. The
girl tittered uncomfortably and shook her head. "Girls, I think you should use
your magic," she advised.
	"Right, enough of this Hong Kong movie stuff," VesVes said irritably,
rising to her feet and rubbing her posterior. She gestured and her red orb
appeared above her palm.
	"You're just mad cause I outdid you again," JunJun teased, pulling down
one eye and sticking her tongue out at her companion. But with her other hand
she was summoning her magic sphere.
	Akira looked warily between the three girls that were surrounding her.
	"Come on, Akira! Kick their butts!" Angel cheered.
	"Let's see her kick this!" JunJun cried, and leapt forward, carrying her
ball in front of her. The orb flashed green and the ground beneath Akira
suddenly exploded upward, a great geyser of stone and sand. Akira grunted and
pushed her hands down even as she rode the top of the geyser almost ten meters
into the air. Then she leapt up even further, arcing through the sky.
	CereCere sighed and reached up with one hand. Suddenly she was holding
the bar of a trapeze, the cords of which rapidly shrunk until she was sitting on
the bar high above the stadium. Akira was coming near the roof of the cavern
when CereCere attacked. She lifted her hand daintily and blew on it. White
flower petals drifted out from her hand, multiplying and spreading as they
travelled toward Akira.
	The woman spun snapped up one hand, sinking her fingers into the stone
ceiling like it was clay and thrust with her other hand. Once again there was a
blue flash as her aura attempted to drive the petals away. But this time the
petals just floated through the blast like it wasn't there. Cologne smiled
bitterly, recalling the first time she had assumed that all of CereCere's magic
had to be purely physical.
	The ethereal flowers floated around Akira on all sides, swarming and
spinning about her. She desperately clamped her hand over her mouth, but it was
no use. Her eyes began to lose focus and her head began to droop. Then abruptly
she lost her grip on the ceiling and plummeted like a rock.
	CereCere smiled, but Cologne frowned. And it was only when Akira was
halfway to the ground that she realised that CereCere had been fooled. The girl
snapped her body down, like a diver, seeming to throw off the effects of the
magical anaesthetic instantly.
	"She was faking it," Angel pointed out chipperly.
	Akira landed palm first on the ground and immediately began flipping
backwards away from the girls. JunJun snarled and ran forward. She brought up
her fingers and snapped them once, and from behind the elusive martial artist a
wall of iron bars erupted from the dirt. The girl smashed into them and tumbled
to the ground. Then JunJun gestured sharply five more times and four more walls
rose out of the sand, with a ceiling dropping from the shadows of the roof to
effectively cage the martial artist.
	"Hah!" JunJun said as Akira rose to her feet. "Those bars are enchanted.
No matter how much you strike them they won't break!" Akira remained silent as
she ran a hand along the bars towards the floor.
	"That ain't gonna hold her for long, just you watch."
	"What are you, her cheerleader?" PallaPalla asked genuinely.
	"Hey, the enemy of my enemy and all that..." Angel smirked.
	"All what?"
	"Uh, you know, that. The rest of the saying."
	"No, I don't know. What is the enemy of your enemy?" She blinked,
tapping her chin adorably. Cologne sighed.
	Then the ground rocked, the entire stadium seeming to tremble. Cologne
gasped and looked back to Akira. There was nothing but a cloud of dust where she
had been caged. Then Cologne saw the cage itself falling down in the distance.
As the smoke cleared, Cologne saw Akira kneeling in the center of a crater
nearly five meters across and half that deep. She was breathing heavily and rose
to her feet much more slowly than before.
	"Next time, JunJun, don't forget to put in an indestructible floor too,"
CereCere offered as her trapeze lowered down next to the other girl.
	"Damn," JunJun growled. "I thought I had her."
	"Heh. You guys don't know nothing." VesVes smirked. She was holding up
her orb above her head and staring at the ceiling.
	"Well, at least we've been trying. What have you done so far?"
	"Me? I've been busy looking for something suitable," VesVes answered
evasively.
	JunJun blinked. Then her eyes narrowed. "What did you do, VesVes?"
	"Nothing special..." Then the chamber began to shake again. Cologne
blinked and looked at Akira. But the girl was just watching the trio of girls
warily. She was too far away to be able to pull off a surprise attack, and thus
probably just trying to figure out how she would counter the next assault.
Cologne had to admit she was mildly impressed with the girl's resourcefulness
so far.
	The shaking began to intensify, and loud crashes could be heard now.
Cologne looked up, and she stared as great cracks began to appear in the
ceiling. Then the entire thing exploded, a titanic cave-in as the stone poured
down from overhead.
	"VesVes!" Cologne shrieked and her rake flashed up. The tip began to
blur as Cologne struck again and again, reducing the larger boulders hurling
down at her to a fine mist. She heard the others cry out, but from what she
could see each was holding off the cave in their own way. For a moment Cologne
lost sight of Akira, lost sight of everything. Finally she coughed and climbed
up onto the massive pile of rubble that had formed in the chamber.
	Thankfully the stadium hadn't been that far underground. The ceiling had
vanished, letting in the light of the night sky overhead. Cologne blinked, and
then looked around. Here and there in the rubble were the shattered remains of
those buildings unlucky enough to have been built above the stadium.
	Then she heard an angry roar and watched as a chunk of stone was thrown
to the side. Akira was dashing across the uneven stone with the speed of a
bullet train. But her expression was no longer wary or frustrated. No, Akira's
face was twisted into an expression of rage. Cologne found herself stunned by
the sudden fury that poured palatably out of the girl.
	VesVes didn't know what hit her. One moment she was climbing out of the
rubble, the next Akira hit her with enough force that the rocks around them for
five meters shattered to dust. VesVes screamed and flew back, smashing into the
wall hard enough to dent it. Akira didn't pause, following the slight redhead so
fast that Cologne could barely follow her.
	"You fucking idiot!" Akira screamed, grabbing VesVes by the collar and
lifting her up into the air. "Do you have any idea what you did!? There were
INNOCENT PEOPLE in those buildings! There were people in the stands!" She struck
VesVes with the back of her hand, nearly taking the girl's head off.
	Cologne was striding forward, getting ready to intervene. VesVes needed
to be punished, but she wasn't certain Akira would hold back for much longer.
Best to save the girl for now and try to explain how what she did was wrong
later.
	"Heh..." VesVes chuckled, a trail of blood trickling from her mouth.
	"What's so funny!?" Akira demanded.
	"You better not knock me out. I'm the only one that can control him,
after all."
	"Control... him..."
	As Akira trailed off the chamber began to shake again. Then the center
of the massive rubble heap began to shudder and spasm. Finally, a long
serpentine figure emerged from the debris. It was made of brass, its body
pitted green with corrosion, and had to be five stories long as it reared its
great draconic head. Stone clattered off it like water dripping from a swan
rising from a lake. Akira released the girl and turned to face the giant
monster. It opened its mouth, obviously trying to roar, but its metal jaw
produced no sound.
	"I may have magically enlarged it a bit, but I wanted to do that ever
since I saw it the first time I came here..." VesVes explained. She grinned.
"They don't call me 'the beast tamer' for nothing, after all!"
	"VesVes!" CereCere appeared behind her and knocked her on the head
lightly. "Stop using priceless cultural artifacts as weapons of mass
destruction!"
	"Ow!" VesVes complained.
	Meanwhile, the beast dove down towards Akira. She sidestepped its first
attack, watching as the massive metal creature's weight tore a gaping hole in
the debris. Cologne could only stare as the girl leapt at the thing while its
back was turned, her fist glowing brilliant blue as she smashed it down on the
back of the thing's neck. A hollow sound, like a gong, reverberated across the
cavern.
	Akira landed on her feet, clutching her wrist. The creature turned to
face her and roared. There was a dent on its back now, maybe a meter across. It
looked tiny compared to the beast.
	The ground behind Akira exploded as the thing's tail emerged from the
rubble suddenly, whipping at her. She leapt over the tail without so much as
blinking. Then its head snapped out, catching her in mid-air. It moved like
lightning, faster than Akira could react. She found herself in its gaping
maw. With a cry she reached up, curling her fingers around teeth as large as her
thighs, and planted her feet firmly on the thing's tongue.
	For almost half a minute she held it like that. Cologne could only
imagine the crushing force the dragon was subjecting her to and didn't envy the
girl one bit. There was no hope of escape. If she tried to slip free, reduced
her efforts by even a fraction, the monster's mouth would crush her like a bug.
And the dragon was inexhaustible. Forged of magic, without any sort of biology,
it would just continue to crush and crush until all her energy was gone. Finally
Cologne sighed.
	"We need her alive, VesVes," she advised.
	"What?" VesVes snarled. "After what she did to my face? She'll be lucky
if I don't..."
	"That's enough!" Cologne roared.
	VesVes shrunk back. JunJun and CereCere stood behind her, both looking
anywhere but at her. Their clothing was torn and their bodies covered in dust.
Frankly, Cologne was surprised she hadn't heard a peep out of CereCere about
that. But she sighed and turned to the pink-haired amazon.
	"Knock her unconscious. Make certain you do it all the way this time."
	"Of course..." CereCere nodded. She gestured with her pink orb and
suddenly the dragon's mouth was filled with a flowing miasma of bright flower
petals. Akira grit her teeth and closed her eyes, trying to fight off the
effects. But in the end, it was magic. It was the Second Circle, and she had no
defence against it except avoiding it entirely. Her body slumped and then fell
forward, losing their grip on the dragon's teeth. The metal beast didn't crush
her, letting the girl slump into a peaceful slumber between its rows of sharp
fangs.
	"You and I, young lady, are going to have a long talk later about..."
	"Hey, old bat!"
	Cologne turned around, surprised to hear that voice again. She had been
certain they would have to dig her out of the rubble. But instead she was
standing proudly on a piece of rock, and dangling from her right hand was
PallaPalla. Cologne narrowed her eyes. There was a light, a soft golden glow
that surrounded the girl. It was like a chi aura, but unlike it as well. Then
she realised the source of the glow... it was some sort of design on her chest.
Something hidden by her shirt, but that was glowing with a golden light so
fierce it was leaking through the thin fabric.
	"I SHOULD thank you. I thought I'd never get a chance to show off,"
Angel quipped. She pulled up her free hand and she was carrying an unsheathed
sword in it. "But you, red, you almost crushed my sword. I don't like that
much."
	Angel roared and threw PallaPalla at Cologne. She cursed and leapt to
catch the unconscious girl even as Angel flew past her through the air. As
Cologne watched, the glow on the girl shifted. The lines of light that formed
the pattern on her chest seemed to flow down her stomach and settle on her hips.
She briefly touched down on another stone and then leapt up, towards the dragon.
Her sword seemed to glimmer with the same golden glow for a fraction of a second
and then she struck it right on the neck.
	Cologne could only stare as the dragon shattered. First a huge crack ran
down the length of the beast, a crack that bisected it neatly into two pieces.
Then, just as the pieces of the great serpent began to slide apart, they
shattered with an earthshaking concussion, scattering little pieces of debris
across the cavern. Cologne swirled her rake in front of her, deflecting the
worst of it away.
	Angel, meanwhile, had landed, carrying the unconscious form of Akira in
one arm. She gently set her passenger down and then turned to face the three
remaining girls. She grinned and the light flowed up her body, settling on the
lines of gold that were etched into the side of her face. The tattoos! There had
to be something about them! Cologne cursed herself. She should have known better
than to assume one of HIS agents wasn't well armed.
	Cologne could barely follow the young white-haired girl as she flashed
across the room towards the girls, and they probably didn't even get a chance to
blink before she was on them. Two strikes with the butt of her sword were enough
to drive the already injured VesVes into unconsciousness. A moment later her
foot came up, striking every single one of CereCere's weak points and sending
her flying back. The girl groaned as she landed, not unconscious but probably
wishing she was.
	Finally Angel turned on JunJun. The shorter girl was snarling, holding
her orb in front of her. Angel struck with a swiftness that defied belief, but
her sword bounced back as a field of green force appeared briefly between them.
Angel shrugged and the glow began to travel down her body towards her hips
again.
	At that point, Cologne intervened.
	The attack should have taken out Angel with one shot. It hit with all
the force one hundred years of martial arts training could produce. The blast
cleared away the rubble out to ten meters. Cologne had put everything she had
into that blow.
	When the smoke cleared, Angel was still standing. Well, not so much
standing as kneeling. Wisps of smoke climbed off her body and she was breathing
heavily, using her sword to help prop herself up. But there was an intense
golden glow on her stomach now, and she turned to look at Cologne, her
expression filled with a sort of strange wonder.
	"Wow, talk about lucky. Good thing you hit me when I was still passing
through the earth chakra. A second sooner or later and I'd have been dead."
	"What are you?" Cologne snarled, shifting her rake up to a battle
position.
	"I could ask the same of you." Angel rose to her feet, the light
travelling up her body to settle in the tattoos along her face again. "Magical
minions and enough chi for three S-Rank martial artists... you're not some
ordinary old bat."
	Cologne backed up a step. "I am Cologne, of the Joketsuzoku. I am here
for vengeance against the man who murdered my great-granddaughter and you are
the tool I will use to find him. I don't care how much power you have in those
tattoos, I won't let you defeat me!"
	Cologne struck with all the speed she could scrape together and it still
wasn't enough. Her rake slashed out so fast it literally sizzled, harsh red
lines forming in its wake as the friction cooked the air. Angel's sword met her
every attack blow for blow. But that was all she could do. Cologne could see the
surprise writ large on her face. She had expected to be even faster than this
compared to Cologne. Cologne smiled coldly and began to restrain her technique.
Her blows became more measured, more precise. While still none of them got
through, they were driving the girl back step by step. Three more blows and
she'd force the girl into a corner where she couldn't dodge!
	Then Angel leapt backward, vaulting over a large boulder. Cologne was
caught by surprise and unable to halt her last swing. Her blow tore the top off
the boulder, sending it spinning away into the cavern. She cast about
desperately for the girl, only to see her too late.
	Somehow Angel had gotten behind her. She ran up one of the ragged chunks
of concrete from the streets overhead, her sword flashing out at Cologne's side.
Cologne snarled and braced herself, spinning her rake behind her back and forced
to catch the attack at an awkward angle.
	"Canny, old bat, but this is nothing," Angel teased. Cologne heaved and
pushed the girl back, spinning to face her. Angel had already recovered with her
unnatural swiftness. She began to dance around Cologne, striking from every
angle, and for a moment Cologne allowed herself to focus solely on defence.
	It was hard. The girl was fast, damnably fast. Maybe even faster than
she was. She could also attack from virtually any angle. In mid-leap, while
hanging upside down, while running up or down a piece of debris. Her every move
was an athletic marvel, a daring maneuver to place herself at an optimum attack
angle. If Cologne had been a lesser woman, she wouldn't have been able to handle
it. If she had still been feeling her hundred years on this earth and not had
access to her youth and the chi accumulated by all those years of intense
meditation, it would have broken through.
	Cologne was beginning to think she saw a pattern in the strikes, when
suddenly her footing vanished from underneath her. She gasped and tried to right
herself, but it was too slow. Angel's sword flickered out, faster than she could
respond. One blow knocked her rake to the side, and without missing a beat the
second came in at her heart. Somehow Cologne managed to twist her body and the
took the blow in the shoulder. The blade bit into her, sending a burning cold
pain echoing across her body. She struck out instinctively, her legs smashing
out at the girl's chest. The blow caught Angel clean in the solar plexus and the
white-haired girl's breath exploded from her lungs as she was sent flying back.
	But even in mid-air she somehow twisted and landed against a section of
cracked wall, hanging there for a moment like a spider before sliding down.
Cologne rose unsteadily to her feet, clutching her bleeding shoulder. The stain
was passing down her shirt, ruining the delicate silk. Her eyes narrowed as she
looked at the shattered rubble around her, wondering why it had given out. Then
she saw it. The boulder had not been shattered. It had been cut clean, a dozen
or more times. Even while she had been forcing Cologne to defend with everything
she had, the girl had been fast enough to destroy her opponent's footing.
	"Old hag!" JunJun gasped.
	"Stay back, girl!" Cologne barked. "This opponent is beyond you." Though
truth be told, Cologne had no idea how she had survived that. She had watched
the girl destroy VesVes's summoned beast with a single strike. Cologne herself
knew how strong the red-haired mage's powers were. If the girl had hit her at
full strength, Cologne should have been reduced to a fine red mist.
	"Man, do you have to sound like something out of a bad kung fu movie?"
Angel spun her sword around herself and adopted a patently ridiculous-looking
stance, balancing on the tips of her toes. She spoke, exaggerating her lip
movements so they seemed out of sync with her voice. "Ha! My kung fu is the
strongest! You cannot hope to survive!"
	"Let's finish this, little girl," Cologne offered. While the child had
been posturing, Cologne had been concentrating. She had been drawing up the chi
around her, siphoning it slowly out of the earth at her feet and through the
chakra in the centre of her stomach. She was beginning to suspect something, and
it was time to test that theory. So she released a slow breath and began to
channel the chi into her shirt. Normally, such an effect would have been
obvious, but Cologne's blood stained the silk, making it possible to accomplish
without flaring her aura.
	"Okay, your funeral!" Angel called and ran forward. Cologne stepped
forward, seeming to move to parry. Then she threw her arms to the side, allowing
the girl's sword to come in without hindrance. Angel's eyes widened as the blade
bounced harmlessly off the thin fabric of Cologne's blouse. She was moving so
fast her sword was already going for three more strikes, each of which was
deflected by Cologne's iron cloth technique. And all the while Cologne had as
much time as she wanted to strike.
	The blow caught Angel in the face, a simple strike with the ball of
Cologne's thumb. But Cologne screamed and released her chi. The explosion of
silver light turned night into day and Angel was sent careening through the air
like a rag doll. She smashed into the half-destroyed wall with enough force to
knock a dozen bricks loose. Cologne took a few deep breaths. That had been
risky. If the girl had really just been holding back her true strength, those
strikes would have bisected Cologne. But instead, they'd been barely strong
enough to wrinkle the fabric. It appeared her speed was wildly out of proportion
to her strength... or her stamina, from the looks of the girl as she wobbled to
her feet.
	"Heh. Guess for an old bat, you're quick on the uptake." Then she raised
her sword in a salute. "But I already learned my lesson today. When you're just
good enough to make your opponent stop holding back, it's time to exit!"
	"No you don't!" Cologne roared and leapt forward, but she was much too
slow. Angel flipped back over the building and landed among the rubble even as
Cologne's strike blasted the chunk of debris to dust. The girl streaked across
the cavern, a golden light trailing in her wake. Cologne started after her, but
had no chance to keep up. Angel paused only long enough to scoop up Akira before
she leapt up, easily clearing her way free of the cavern and up into the city.
Cologne paused. She could leap up too, but it would take her two or three
bounces to get that height. And once Angel was out of sight, she could literally
go anywhere.
	"Damn..." She took a deep breath and forced her anger away. There were
other things to worry about. Soon enough the forces of the Dark Kingdom would be
here to deal with this disturbance. And while Cologne measured her chances as
good against anything they had short of Queen Tethys herself, she decided it was
best not to start an international incident by having a city-levelling brawl
between herself and their local General.
	"JunJun, get your sisters. Let's get out of here."

*

	Akira woke up feeling oddly refreshed. Her eyes blinked open, then
squinted as the sunlight flared across her retinas. She reached up to shield
them and her hand diverted almost of its own accord to cover her mouth as a loud
yawn broke free. She sat up, stretching and looking around blearily. She hadn't
had such a good sleep in ages.
	She was mildly surprised to find herself in a forest. Pine needles still
clung to her riding leathers, a few falling softly to the forest floor. She
leaned back, supporting herself on her arms as she tried to remember what had
happened.
	Oh right. Those girls. They must have used some sort of magic on her to
knock her out. She hadn't been paying much attention, what with the giant dragon
trying to eat her at the time. Akira frowned. She didn't really hate magic so
much as found it terribly unfair. The only reason she hadn't been knocked out by
that pink-haired girl's first attempt was because she had managed to drop out of
the area of effect. Then again, magic tended to work like that. In its area of
specialty, it was supreme. But so long as you didn't let it corner you into
confronting it on its terms, you could handle magic.
	"Well, most of the time," she groused aloud.
	"Hey, you're awake."
	A quick glance confirmed that Angel was walking through the trees
towards her. Her tanned face gleamed in the morning sunlight, a cheerful smile
on her features. She had a way of walking too, a certain sway to her hips that
was nakedly sensual without being trampy. Akira forced herself to look away. She
leaned forward and began to brush the needles off her clothing to give herself
an excuse.
	"Yeah." Akira yawned again. "What time is it?"
	"Hmm..." Angel looked up at the sky. "About ten o'clock, I'd wager." She
crouched nearby, unslinging a bag she had been carrying over her shoulder. "I
went into town and grabbed some food, want some?"
	"Cookies?" Akira asked hopefully.
	Angel blinked. "Uh. No. I did get some breakfast burritos. And Pepsi."
She reached into bag and tossed it to Angel. "It's the choice of a new
generation. Or so I've been told."
	Akira caught the can and the lukewarm bundle. "Oh," she murmured, not
really hiding her disappointment. She shrugged after a moment and started
working on the food. As usual after a massive battle like the one she'd been in
last night, Akira was voracious.
	"Ugh." Angel was looking down at her half-eaten burrito with the same
expression you would give a rat. "Man. I can't believe they call these things
Mexican food.  I apologise on behalf of my country for the obviously talentless
expat chefs here."
	"They aren't?" Akira didn't really notice the taste of hers. She had
barely even chewed, just shoved it down her throat in two large bites. Angel
just sort of stared at her while Akira had been smashing her sternum to force it
down her esophagus.
	"Uh, no..." Angel shook her head and continued. "It's about as Mexican
as... take-out Chinese is like actual Chinese food."
	Akira nodded as she chugged the soda. She gave a loud sigh when she was
finished and glanced at the girl. "Got anything stronger?"
	Angel's lips quirked up. "Hey, this is Stockholm." She reached into her
bag and produced a six-pack of cans covered in drops of condensed water.
"Scandinavian beer isn't as good as authentic German beer, but it's a lot better
than Asian stuff."
	Akira chuckled and broke off a can. She decided to take her time on this
one, however, and thus only drank half the can in one gulp. "Thanks."
	"Ah, you can buy me a drink when we get back," Angel said, chuckling.
Akira felt her cheeks burn again and she took another drink to conceal it.
	"No. I mean for saving me back there."
	"Yeah..." Angel twirled her can on the end of one finger. "After the
avalanche I caught the woman off-balance and..." She trailed off when she
realised Akira was standing up. "Hey! I'm telling the story of my dramatic last
minute rescue!"
	"Yeah." Akira brushed the last few needles off her jacket, which she had
apparently been using as a pillow, and slipped it on. "Thanks for that. I gotta
get back to town. You wanna come?"
	Angel blinked. Then she stood up, the hilt of the sword tied to her
thigh jingling softly against her belt in the comfortable silence of the forest.
"I guess." She paused. "I know we introduced ourselves yesterday, but a fight
is not really the best way to start off a relationship." She extended her hand.
"I'm Angel, freelance monster hunter."
	Akira didn't hesitate, she grabbed the hand firmly. "Akira Kazama."
	"Akira... Kazama?" Angel withdrew her hand. "Wait... not THE Akira
Kazama?" Akira raised an eyebrow, but Angel had already sat down again. She was
digging rapidly through her pack, muttering something about 'sure she had it'
and 'rares'. "A-HA! I knew it!" She held up what looked like a small black
playing card, squinting as she looked between Akira and it. "Well. It is you. I
mean I can see the resemblance. But you certainly look a lot more pissed off.
Plus you're kinda butch, and your tits are smaller..."
	Akira snatched the card away and glanced at it. It was a picture of what
could have been her. Except she was grinning evilly and wearing a leather jacket
covered in spikes and skulls. She was also punching some guy in the face. The
picture took up about half the card. Under that were a series of numbers and
some text in Japanese. "When Akira is played, you may search your deck for
Akira's Motorcycle and place it in play as well." She looked up at Angel. "What
the hell is this?"
	"You've never heard of it before?" Angel blinked. Akira shook her head,
her hair brushing against her shoulders. "It's only the coolest show on Japanese
TV." Angel affected a deeper, masculine voice. "Martial Arts Hunter, Zoa-Man!"
She snorted a brief laugh. "A young Japanese high school student has his entire
family slaughtered by rogue martial artists and consents to an experimental neo-
zoanoid conversion process. Now he is Martial Arts Hunter, Zoa-Man! Transform!
For the protection of Japan! And... THE WORLD!" Angel almost managed to say all
that with a straight face, almost. She cracked up at the last word.
	Akira stared at the card flatly. "A kid's cartoon show..." She sighed.
"Is this what I've been reduced to? A game piece in a propaganda show created by
Chronos?"
	"Hey, it may be blatant propaganda, but that doesn't mean it's not a
cool show." Angel smirked as she began to look through her pack. "Becoming a
character on the show is considered something of an 'in'. You know, a signal
that you've finally hit the big time. I hear Governor Purgstall makes regular
appearances. And of course there's Akane and 'The Scarlet Hand'."
	"The what?"
	"The resistance. You know, the martial artists fighting Chronos over in
Japan."
	"I know who they are." Akira groused.
	"Aren't they called 'The Scarlet Hand' or something?"
	"As far as I know, they don't call themselves anything."
	"Oh." Angel chuckled. "No wonder they felt the need to jazz it up a
little. No sense of style. I don't have an Akane though. She's an ultra-rare. I
do have one of your brother!" She gasped and held up another black-backed card.
"Yeesh. They must not have done a very flattering job on him either. I certainly
wouldn't want to meet that in a dark alley." She showed the picture to Akira.
	Akira blinked. "Actually, that's exactly what he looks like."
	"Oh." Angel looked at the picture again. "No wonder you left."
	Akira's eyebrow twitched but she didn't say anything.
	"I just hope I get my own card one day," Angel said, sighing
melancholically and propping her chin on her palm. Akira closed her eyes and
took a deep breath.
	"Well, keep getting involved in fights that destroy several city blocks
and I'm sure you will someday." Akira turned to leave, but suddenly paused. She
wasn't certain where the strange urge had come from, but it hit her with a force
that left her dumb for a few moments. She fidgeted, uncertain how to ask the
question. But finally her curiosity got the better of her and she had to ask.
"Do they have an Ukyou card?"
	"A who?" Angel asked, perplexed.
	"Never mind," Akira muttered, waving the comment aside. "Nothing
important." She stretched again. "I should really get going. I have to go make
certain nobody stole my bike. Plus I have to pay for the room I didn't get to
sleep in."
	"You're going back into town?" Angel asked, sounding more serious as she
put her playing cards away.
	"Yeah. There's someone I have to meet."
	"Oh? Who?"
	Akira briefly wondered if she should tell the younger girl. Then she
shrugged. "His name is Zoicite."
	"You mean, Dark Kingdom General Zoicite?" Angel asked slowly.
	"That would be him."
	"The man Tethys placed in charge of the entire region? The liaison
between the civic government and the youma that keeps this region from being
overrun by Chronos or Millennium?"
	"Huh." Akira rubbed her chin. "Obviously what I have to start doing is
paying attention to things like newspapers."
	"Well, to be fair," Angel said, "he does keep a low profile. Queen
Tethys-" Akira frowned and closed her eyes, banishing memories. "-likes a soft
touch. Most people that live here still think they're run by the usual
governments. She doesn't forcibly conscript people like Chronos does. Just sort
of keeps an eye on things. After what she did to Millennium's fleet five years
ago, I guess she can afford to be a little hands-off."
	"Yeah..." Akira had seen the footage, just like most other people. The
Dark Kingdom had been certain to send it all around the world. It didn't look
like much. Just a bunch of specks on a blue plain being swamped under by a wave.
It didn't look like much until you realised that was a satellite camera. Those
blue specks were dozens of ships. And that wave had swept across the entire
Baltic Sea. According to rumour, Millennium had never bothered to rebuild the
coast where the tsunami had hit. The message of that footage had been clear.
	You didn't fuck with Tethys.
	"So I don't suppose you know where to find him?" Akira asked hopefully.
	Akira leaned against a tree, crossing her arms over her chest. "The
royal palace. It's about fifteen minutes drive from central Stockholm."
	"Which direction?"
	"You're just going to walk in?" Angel asked incredulously.
	"Walk in... break in... destroy everything between me and him..." Akira
shrugged. "He knows something I need to know."
	"Kinda direct, don't you think? And after you destroyed his stadium, I
don't think you're his favourite person right now."
	"I didn't destroy that stadium!" Akira snapped, her fists tightening
enough for her gloves to creak audibly. Angel stared at her, but Akira was
already taking a few deep breaths to clear her mind. Akira made a mental note
that the next time she met that red-haired bitch she should practice some of her
more brutal forms. The worst part was she didn't even know who they were or why
they were after her. Magical girls weren't Chronos' or Millennium's style, and
Tethys wouldn't...
	She cut that thought off.
	"Listen, Akira, what you obviously need is some finesse to handle this.
You can't just go kicking down the door of the most powerful man in all of
Scandinavia and beating the shit out of him." Angel buffed her nails on her
shirt, her stunningly bright smile coming out again. "Thankfully you have me
along."
	"You know how to get me in to see Zoicite?"
	"That depends..." Angel's grin suddenly went from cheerful to teasing.
"Do you have a pair of tube socks?"
	Akira blinked.

*

	"This was much easier when I was younger," Akira grumbled as she shifted
uncomfortably. Angel smacked the older woman's wrist lightly as she reached for
her pants again.
	"Leave it alone," she hissed.
	"It's uncomfortable," Akira hissed back.
	"It's a pair of tube socks down your pants. It's not really supposed to
be comfortable," Angel replied wisely. Akira stared at her. "Plus, I can afford
to be magnanimous about this. After all, I'm not the one with her breasts bound
back so tight she can barely breathe." Angel grinned and held a finger to her
lips. "Now remember, you're a young man, you have to look dour and sort of
pissed off." Akira just continued to stare at her flatly. "Yeah, like
that."
	Angel chuckled into the back of her hand and started forward. Akira
followed her after a few steps, thrusting her hands into her pockets and
slouching forward slightly as she walked, her head bobbing grimly. Angel was
impressed at how masculine she looked. Considering how much effort it had taken
to tie down her chest and stuff her pants, she looked positively sexy when she
moved like that. Angel wondered for a moment if it was deliberate.
	That was the problem, Angel decided as they moved up the driveway
towards the palace. It was too hard to figure out Akira. Angel looked to both
sides, glancing at the people calmly picnicking on the elegantly landscaped
lawn. She could figure out most of these people with a single glance. There was
a guy over there who loved the girl he was with so much he would kill for her.
It was really too bad the girl didn't really like him so much, though from the
way her hand lingered near his Angel guessed the sex was good. One of the police
walking along the route greeted them softly. He was worried about something. You
could tell by the way he shifted his weight and looked around too much.
	But Akira was still an enigma. When she'd woken up in the clearing,
Angel had expected to have to give Akira her carefully prepared story right
away. She had actually been a little insulted that Akira hadn't so much as asked
a single question about her. Angel had created an elaborate history, mixing just
enough fact with fiction to sound convincing. It was the tragic tale of a young
Mexican girl driven from her home by monsters who took up a life of the sword to
avenge the memory of her dead parents and blah blah blah. Claiming she had spent
the last few years in Russia was the real brilliant part. Russia was huge. Even
if Akira had driven back and forth across it fifty times, there was still little
chance she had met everyone that wandered from city to city in that massive
chunk of land.
	They came up to the doors of the palace and were stopped by two
uniformed guards. Angel saw Akira tense slightly. Then she felt it herself.
These two had real power. She smiled at them and scanned them with her eyes.
They looked like normal officers of the law. They had that same look of
intensity that properly intimidating bouncers the world over shared. But there
was something beneath the surface. A dark, dangerous energy that flowed from
them and sent the little hairs on the back of Angel's neck dancing.
	Youma, more than likely. Or at least more of those demon-human hybrids
that Tethys liked creating.
	"And what are you two doing here?" one of the guards asked, his Swedish
thick and accented.
	"I'm here to deliver a new friend for Lord Zoicite," Angel answered
sweetly. She winked and propped her head towards Akira. The guards looked at
Akira slowly. She was still slouched slightly, looking at the ground, Sensing
their scrutiny, she looked up, her face forming into a dour but intense frown.
	"What?" she said in a voice that somehow both demanded an answer and
didn't care if you did at the same time. Once again, Angel wondered if the girl
was doing this deliberately.
	"And you are?" the guard asked, turning his eyes back to Angel.
	"Does that really matter?" Angel winked again and put her arm around
Akira's shoulder. She tensed suddenly and shrugged her off with a glare. But her
face was flushed. "Let's just say... I'm a person interested in a trade."
	That caused the guards to laugh. One slapped the other on the back and
said something in a language Angel didn't recognise. It sounded old. Like Latin.
The one who had been speaking up to now nodded his head and stepped back to push
open the door. "By all means. After last night, Lord Zoicite could use some
cheering up."
	"Thank you!" Angel cried sweetly, blowing them each a kiss before
leading Akira inside. The palace itself was quite pleasing to the eye. Angel
took her time to do the whole gawking tourist thing. Akira just slouched along
behind her, not quite glaring at the pictures of various former kings and queens
that lined the walls.
	"What did you say to them?" Akira asked in Japanese.
	"Oh, nothing..." Angel teased. She wondered if Akira had even considered
the possibility that they were being monitored. That they had probably been
watched like hawks from the moment they had stepped onto the palace grounds. The
problem was that it would be impossible to tell if Akira hadn't considered that,
or had but just didn't care.
	"Whatever..." Akira sighed.
	Eventually Angel tracked down a maid, who was more than happy to give
them directions to Lord Zoicite's 'receiving chamber.' Angel almost cracked up
on the spot when she called it that. Akira just looked at her strangely, but
that could have been because she didn't speak Swedish.
	Angel thanked the confused-looking girl and led Akira deeper into the
palace. It gave her a few more minutes to think about what she was going to do
here. The problem was, she hadn't really been given much of a mission. For two
years she had been doing things for Him. Always before her mission had been very
specific. Find someone. Kill someone. Kidnap someone. Then, return home and
amuse herself in the hills of Luxembourg until He called for her again.
	But this time the mission had been strange. This time Angel had walked
into the large hollow bunker that Chris used as his meditation chamber. The boy
god had been floating softly in the air, gazing at a large map of the world
painted onto the back wall. The map was the most accurate, most up-to-date map
like it in the world. It showed all the nations of the world in perfect scale,
with all the borders carefully arranged. When one battle or another stretched a
bit of territory for Chronos or lost a bit of territory for the Americans, the
map changed. There were even symbols on it. Symbols that represented people.
Purgstall. Arkanphel. Tethys. Bison. All the major players, and where they were
at any moment. Angel had once examined the map to see how it had worked, but
when you got too close you could see the millions and millions of tiny...things.
Not quite insects, not quite plants. More of Link's work.
	This time, Angel hadn't bothered to spare the map a second glance. Chris
had turned and looked down at her coldly as she kneeled and awaited
instructions. "Angel. There is a young woman named Akira Kazama. In a few weeks
she'll be arriving in Scandinavia. Find her. Stay with her. Report back to me
what she discovers."
	"And...?" Angel had prompted.
	"That's all. For now."
	And so here she was.
	She looked at the large mahogany doors for a moment. Angel had never
been the most spiritually sensitive person. Rei used to compare her unfavourably
to a goldfish, a creature so dense it couldn't even tell if it had fed in the
last fifteen minutes. When Akira had sensed the youma-men outside, Angel had
been forced to focus intensely even to pick up a hint of what they actually
were. But even she could sense the power behind this elaborately carved door. It
was massive, a power that pulsed darkly just at the edge of her awareness.
Whatever it was, it was evil.
	She glanced at Akira. If Akira sensed it as well, she gave no sign.
	Shrugging, Angel pushed open the door and stepped inside.
	The first thing that struck her was the heat. The room had to be ten
degrees warmer than anyplace else in the palace. But she understood the
reason for that when she took one quick look around. The place was full of
nearly naked men.
	They came in all shapes. Tall ones and short ones. Some blond, some with
black or red or brown hair. Some had bodies that were lean and soft, almost
boyish. Others had rippling muscles and rugged jaws. There were men lounging in
pools of water. There were men leaning indolently against the walls. Some just
stood in the middle of the room, staring serenely off into nothing at all, their
bodies like breathing statues. Angel caught herself examining a few of the more
prime specimens when she felt Akira brush against gently as she stepped past.
	She glanced at the disguised girl and saw her eyes had narrowed. There
was a dangerous look on her face now. Angel followed her line of sight and
couldn't tell what was setting her off. Then she saw it. The men here, their
eyes were wrong somehow. They looked at you, but didn't see you. And not a one
of them was talking, not even so much as a single word. They just stared at the
two of them as they crossed the large chamber with the same kind of passive
interest you would expect from an especially bright dog.
	Then Angel saw the man that Akira was walking towards. Zoicite was
lounging back on a divan, a glass of brandy held idly in one hand while he held
a rose up to his nose with the other. He was a tall thin man, with short blonde
hair, one lock of which fell in front of his face artistically. He wore a grey
uniform but the front was open, revealing a large part of his slender but well-
muscled chest. A man was kneeling next to him, holding a platter of grapes.
	"Zoicite," Akira said sharply.
	Zoicite glanced down. "Now how did you get in here?" he asked idly.
	"Front door," Angel answered helpfully. Zoicite only glanced at her
dismissively before turning his attention back to Akira. Angel bristled, but hid
it well.
	"That isn't important," Akira said, straightening. "You know why I'm
here."
	"I do?" Zoicite only partially hid his smile behind his rose. His gaze
travelled down to her crotch. "Mmmm. Is there something you want to tell me,
Akira?"
	"Wait, you two know each other?" Angel asked incredulously.
	Akira merely nodded. Zoicite allowed his attention to settle on her for
the first time. "Akira and I go way back. When was the last time we met..."
	"I believe it was when I said I'd break your arm if we ever met again,"
Akira snarled.
	"Ah yes." Zoicite sighed. "Nostalgia." He batted his eyes at her. "So,
have you come here rethinking my Queen's offer?"
	"No," Akira said it with enough firmness that Zoicite started slightly.
	"Ah... that isn't what I heard..." Zoicite regained his composure
quickly. "I believe the last time I talked to her about you, she told me how-"
	"Enough games, Zoicite," Akira snapped, cutting him off. "I've come here
for information and I know you have it."
	"Have what?"
	"Don't play dumb with me. You know who I'm looking for."
	Zoicite reflexively reached for his ear, then let his hand drop to his
side. Angel frowned. There was a tiny scar there, on the lobe of his ear. A
little chunk of the ear was missing.
	"Ah yes. Ukyou. Of course. It always comes back to her, doesn't it?"
	Angel's frown deepened. This was the second time she'd heard that name.
Or was it?  The name was a little familiar, like a memory from childhood. Who
was Ukyou?
	"Nabiki told me you had information. And Nabiki is never wrong," Akira
pointed out, cracking her knuckles for emphasis. Angel carefully filed that
tidbit away for further analysis.
	"There's no need for threats, Akira dear." Zoicite laughed, a haughty
sound he hid behind his hand. "Besides, as good a martial artist as you are, I'm
not the person I was four years ago."
	"Everybody changes," Akira said.
	"Except you." Zoicite smiled and leaned forward. "Still tilting at
windmills. No matter how hopeless."
	"Listen, Z..." Angel stepped in between the two of them before Akira did
something they'd all regret. "You seem like a reasonable man. Granted, a
psychotic gay man who devours souls, but a reasonable psychotic gay man who
devours souls. So why don't we work something out here before things get
unpleasant?"
	Zoicite stared at her for a moment, obviously unsure how to take her
intrusion into his little reunion. He had liked having something he could hold
over Akira. He wasn't even trying to hide it. He also knew that nothing Akira
could do would force him to give up the information. With his magic he might not
be able to beat her, but escaping before she could inflict any damage wasn't
beyond the question. Then Akira would have an entire palace full of elite youma
troops to deal with.
	No, he was enjoying needling the young woman.
	"I don't even have the information she wants." Zoicite yawned and leaned
back. "Nobody does. Or... to be more accurate, everyone does. She just won't
admit it. Ukyou is dead, Akira. She is gone. There is nothing left of her in
this world."
	"No." Akira didn't really say it with any obvious conviction. She didn't
shout it in denial or sound fervent. But there was something in her simple
certainty. She believed.
	"Okay, Z, let's work something out then. You tell the lady what she came
here to hear and..." Angel trailed off.
	"And what?" Zoicite smirked. "There's nothing you can offer me I don't
already have." He glanced around his 'receiving chamber', his smirk slowly
changing to one of genuine satisfaction. "I have everything I ever wanted. I
have power. I have luxury. I have respect and obedience. There is nothing you
can offer me that I don't already have."
	"Revenge."
	The word hung in the air for a long time. Angel looked back over her
shoulder at Akira, but her expression was still bordering on the edge of fury.
Zoicite lifted his glass to his lips and took a long sip.
	"Go on."
	"We both know who really knows." Akira looked down and away, suddenly
unable to meet his gaze. "That's why I went to her... She and Pluto, with their
long talks up there. I know what they're talking about. They're talking about
her. They know. And you know too." Akira looked up. "You don't care about me, or
Ukyou. You care about what happened to you seven years ago. You care about
Kunzite."
	Zoicite's eyes narrowed. "Ancient history." His voice was curt.
	"Don't sound like ancient history to me, Z," Angel pointed out
cheerfully.
	"How do you even know about that?" Zoicite asked, only taking a moment
to glare at Angel before directing his question to Akira.
	"Tethys told me a lot of things." Akira smirked and crossed her arms.
"She loves telling that story. It's one of her favourites. She thinks it's
funny."
	"Funny..." The stem of Zoicite's rose snapped. "I see."
	"Well, it seems obvious to me, Z." Angel walked over and leaned over the
divan, placing her palms on the soft pink cushion. "Tethys doesn't want Akira to
know this, and you want to screw over Tethys just a little. This way, you can do
it without pissing off one of the most powerful beings on Earth."
	"Provided she doesn't find out," Zoicite snapped.
	"Who's gonna tell her?" Angel blinked innocently. "I certainly never
heard you say anything about this. I'm certain Akira didn't either." She glanced
over at Akira and winked.
	"Uh... right. Not a word."
	Zoicite considered. Then he sighed. "I'm afraid you really do have a
problem. I truly don't know where Ukyou is, or even if she's alive."
	"But Nabiki-!" Zoicite cut Akira off.
	"But I have learned something." He paused. "There is a being that Tethys
fears more than any other on Earth. A figment of the imagination, some would
say. A ghost that kills without a trace..."
	"Lotus Infinite?" Angel blurted.
	Akira glanced at Angel, raising an eyebrow.
	"Lotus Infinite is... a fairy tale," Angel tried to explain. "Sometimes
people around the world die, and nobody can figure out how. This is pretty
common, obviously. But sometimes it happens to really powerful people. Really
dangerous people. Zoalord-class beings, powerful and dangerous. And when people
like that start dying with no good reason, people begin to see things that
aren't there." Angel shrugged. "Lotus Infinite is a conspiracy theory. An
assassin that nobody can stop, that can strike down anyone, yadda yadda
yadda..."
	"Yes," Zoicite said. "But I think Lotus Infinite is real. Keeping her
existence a secret is perhaps her greatest asset." Angel couldn't fault that
logic, not considering who she worked for.
	Akira shrugged. "So, what does this have to do with Ukyou?"
	Zoicite steepled his fingers. "Nobody told you the real truth about what
happened to Ukyou seven years ago. She did go off to fight Millennium, but in
the process she ended up running into Bison."
	"Bison..." Akira said the name slowly. "Ranma told me about him."
	"In the most flattering terms, I'm certain," Zoicite drawled. "Lotus
Infinite is an assassin that works for Bison." He paused. "I know why you don't
believe Ukyou is dead, Akira. Because of that... other power she has. That force
which preserved her life time and time again. The power to fight back the very
force of Oblivion itself. Nothing on this earth could snuff that power out."
	Angel kept her expression carefully neutral. She successfully resisted
the urge to demand he clarify. There was a pregnant pause.
	"You think Bison used Lotus Infinite on Ukyou," Akira stated after a
moment. Zoicite said nothing. "You think Lotus Infinite killed Ukyou."
	"Something like that..."
	"No." Akira frowned and looked down at her clenched fist. "That didn't
happen."
	"The only people who would know for sure..."
	"Are Bison and his pet assassin," Angel pointed out.
	"I can't take on Bison," Akira admitted. "He's... too powerful."
	"Plus he hasn't been seen in two years," Angel informed her.
	"There is another way." Zoicite piped in.
	They both looked at him.
	"Lotus Infinite is an assassin. She must leave... Bisonopolis-" the word
came out with distinct distaste. "-to find her targets."
	"That doesn't do us much good unless we know who her target is," Angel
groused, crossing her arms.
	"You know who the next target is, don't you?" Akira demanded.
	"I keep myself informed," Zoicite yawned. "I'm no Nabiki Tendo. But you
don't successfully hold off Chronos and Millennium without having some
resources." He paused.
	"Spit it out already!" Angel demanded, smacking him lightly. He stared
at her. Akira chuckled. Finally Zoicite sighed.
	"No appreciation for drama." He leaned forward. "The next target is the
invincible fire god... Saffron."
	"Saffron..." Angel's voice suddenly sounded very small.

*

	Zoicite leaned back on his divan once the two young ladies were gone. He
sighed and plucked a grape from the tray. The manservant hadn't moved a muscle
since the girls had arrived. He smirked to himself.
	It was really too bad. Akira made quite the fetching man when she put
her mind to it. Then again, even if she had been a man, she would have been
beyond his touch. The dead were cold comfort, after all.
	"I wouldn't underestimate her."
	She didn't so much appear as allow him to notice her for the first time.
He idly wondered how long she had been here. Long enough, he supposed.
	"Oh, please." Zoicite chuckled. "She's an impressive martial artist. Did
you see the footage from the arena last night? Of course you did." He waved his
own comment aside. "But up against what's she's going to fight? She hasn't a
chance."
	"If you say so." She turned and looked at him. "I trust I can let you
handle your end."
	"Yes, yes... but are you certain that they've finally succeeded this
time? Do they really have a weapon that can kill a god?"
	Nabiki smirked, crossing her arms. "The Major is nothing if not single-
minded. If anyone can be trusted to figure out a way to destroy a god, it's
him."
	"I hope you're right. This could end badly for both of us if things
don't go as we hope."
	"Hope is all we have, Zoicite. Against the Third Circle... hope is all
we have."

*

	Cracker Jack stepped into the room slowly. He adjusted the brim of his
ever-present hat, and resisted the urge to lick his lips. Going to see the boss
was always something of an unnerving experience, especially these days. Bison
had always been a little unstable, but at least he used to be mostly
understandable. Now... Jack didn't know what his master thought anymore.
	The room was long but narrow, consisting mainly of a walkway extending
out across a dark chasm. The walkway was just wide enough for one person to walk
down, and had no railing or any other concession to safety. Jack tried not to
look down as he made his way across. It wasn't that he hated heights (though he
did) but that looking down into the shadowy chasm over which he walked made him
think that beneath him was a wound in the earth itself. It was dark, dark like
the bowels of the planet where the sun never shined. Out of that pit crawled
lines of red light. They ran up the ways and vanished into the shadows deep
below.
	They were thin, branching and joining in a seemingly random manner,
sometimes ending in a blood-coloured sphere. The light from the lines wasn't
constant: instead, pulses of energy seemed to emerge from the underworld,
shooting up through some complex network, each ending in a sphere which dimmed
or brightened depending on how many pulses it was receiving. The whole thing
hummed, a strange otherworldly sound that seemed to dig down into your bones and
just sort of linger there. Jack swore that sometimes, when he was trying to get
to sleep at night, he could still hear that unnerving hum.
	But that was what the Dolls were for. Warm comfort on the nights when
you began to realise that you were working for a man who had harnessed the power
of hatred and terror. The soft submissive body of a young lady could make a lot
of your doubts vanish. Still, such a thought was distant comfort now, when you
were in the heart of the beast.
	It was times like this that Jack was glad he had never developed that
funky 'chi' awareness that other people around him had. He had seen great
martial arts masters enter this chamber. They had wills of irons and the power
to perceive the heart of the world, the spiritual center of all creation even.
Every single one of them had walked out a broken man. One old man had started
screaming the moment he'd entered and not stopped until Jack had put him out of
his misery a few hours later. But even as spiritually dense as Jack was, he
could feel the power in this room. Pure concentrated evil was the only way to
describe it. It made the little hairs on the back of his neck shiver.
	Sighing and deciding to get this over with, he started across the
walkway. His footfalls echoed hollowly along the steel mesh as he made his way
toward Bison's throne. The light got dimmer as he approached the end of the
chamber, until all that provided illumination was the unpredictable pulses of
red light as they travelled their clockwork mechanical paths along the wall.
Thankfully, Jack didn't have to walk long through it before he reached his
master.
	The walkway suddenly ended just before a platform that was connected to
the far wall. There was a gap of nearly five meters between the walkway and the
platform, and the platform was raised slightly above the walkway so that you
always had to look up to see Bison. The platform itself wasn't too big, maybe
three meters to a side. Just large enough for the throne and a few people to
stand on it comfortably.
	Two of the Dolls were here. There were always a few, though the number
varied wildly. Ever since Vega had been ganked, Cracker Jack had been placed in
charge of the Dolls' training and overseeing their missions. It was a job he
relished the perks of much more than Vega did, perks he shared with any
Shadowloo operative he figured had done a good job. Lesser men might have seen
his actions as misogynistic, but Jack actually had a good deal of respect for
the fairer sex. But he knew the truth. The Dolls were machines, not people. They
might once have been human, but Bison's Psychopower had hollowed out their minds
and souls, leaving only flesh and a mind that was more like a combat computer
than a human brain.
	The Dolls were officially here to serve as guards, but they certainly
didn't look like guards at the moment. Enero was lying down in front of the
throne, her face angled towards the ceiling and her back arched just slightly.
Her face was flushed and her lips parted. Sweat had slicked back her pink hair.
She was making no noise, just breathing heavily. Eidolon was leaning against
Bison, pressing her body against her master's, her body partially phasing
through the throne itself. Eidolon was Jack's favourite Doll, mainly because she
appeared so much older than the others. Ever since he had returned from England
with her, Bison had halted the aging process of all the Dolls. Jack just
preferred women to teenage girls, he guessed.
	But Jack had put off the inevitable long enough. He looked at Bison
himself... or herself, as the case may be. Over the years, Jack had grown used
to Bison's intimidating presence, his massively muscled body and his garish red
uniform. Bison might have been a madman, but he was a man you could respect, a
man who understood the appetites of a man and reveled in them. Violence, sex,
luxury... these were the things Bison had and the things that had attracted Jack
to Shadowloo.
	But now...
	Jack had always sort of understood, intellectually, that Bison's power
had been growing. The Psychodrive had increased his dark chi so much that his
body had been straining to contain it for years. That had been why he had been
so eager to get his hands on the cloning technology of the I-Jin. Jack had seen
the man transfer his memories, his consciousness, from one clone to another as
the Psychopower inevitably disintegrated his bodies one by one.
	Then two years ago Bison had simply emerged from his lab one day like
this. The woman before him was slender but voluptuous, with breasts that verged
on the point of being too large for her body. She was wearing a version of
Bison's old military jacket that had been recut to hug her body and was open at
the top to allow a glance at the top of her cleavage. The hem of the jacket came
down just below her hips, just far enough to be somewhat decent. Other than
that, her long milky thighs were exposed until they came to the knee-high red
stiletto boots. Her arms were bare as well. On her head she wore Bison's cap,
the gleaming metal skull-and-wings of Shadowloo perched just above the bill. The
cap was tilted down, shadowing most of her beautiful face, allowing one only to
see her wide sparkling grin and the two blue glowing lights that were her eyes.
Bison was leaning back in her throne, one hand stroking the back of Eidolon as
the eldest Doll ran a hand through Bison's long black hair. Bison's long purple
cloak was draped over the seat of his throne, her legs crossed almost daintily
over it.
	Jack could understand power, but this just gave him the willies. Not
that he didn't appreciate lesbians. After all, he did command the Dolls and
Bison had hard-wired some sort of strange lesbian nymphomania into them, but he
just wasn't used to seeing his boss like this.
	Even more unnerving was the way Bison seemed to be a part of this room.
She looked like the room was an extension of her. The angled lines of red light
that travelled up the walls, all of them converged here. They funnelled
themselves up into the throne. And just under Bison's exposed flesh, you could
see the red lines running. Like circuit diagrams, the lines of light traced
constantly changing paths across her legs, arms and face.
	"Cracker Jack..." Bison said finally. Jack had been standing there for
nearly five minutes by that point. But one didn't interrupt Bison. You waited on
his... er, her sufferance. "What have you to report?" Her voice was soft,
deceptively light even. But there was a hint of the arrogant cruelty that was
Bison underneath that. Jack never had any doubt that the woman before him was
still Bison when he heard her laugh.
	"Lo... Lady Bison," Jack said, tipping his hat and lowering himself to
one knee. "I've gotten a message from our contact in the Dark Kingdom."
	"Indeed..." Bison was hardly paying attention. Then again, Jack knew
just how distracting Eidolon could be. He almost wished the brim of his hat
allowed him to see what was happening. Almost.
	"Zoicite told me that someone is looking for Lotus Infinite."
	That caused the mood of the room to shift dramatically. Jack felt the
hairs on the back of his neck start to shrivel.
	"Did he, now?" Bison's voice was harsh. "Still, this is no threat to my
plans. My conquest of the infinite power she possesses is almost complete." He
paused. "But better not to allow some fool hero to delay my plans any more than
is necessary. Do you know where they are searching?"
	"Yes, sir." Jack nodded. "They think we're sending Lotus Infinite to
Phoenix Mountain to deal with Saffron."
	"Saffron?" Bison chuckled, a soft sound under the surface of which
something sinister lurked. "What do I care about that bird-man when ultimate
power is within my grasp?" There was a soft swish as Bison rose to her feet.
"I am Bison, and I have nothing to fear from some foolish god."
	"Yes... Lady Bison. But that does give us an idea of where to go." Jack
coughed lightly. "I can take a few of the Dolls with me, maybe Balrog too. We
should be able to sneak into the Bayankala range and wait for them. There's only
supposed to be two of them, and I think we can handle that."
	There was a long pause. Then Bison swirled his cloak. "No. I think if
these young fools wish to find Lotus Infinite, we satisfy their curiosity."
	"As you wish." Jack stood up, nodded and made his way out.
	"Poor bastards..." he muttered once the elevator door had closed behind
him.

*

	Beneath Berlin, underneath the blackened skeletal remains of buildings,
below the scorched earth and past the unmarked graves, there was a cavern that
was known as Gehenna. It was a deceptively small chamber, the walls hewn out of
rough stone and lit by nothing but the flickering images of dim screens. In the
centre of the room was a simple leather chair, a chair that was far from the
light and to which the shadows clung almost unnaturally.
	It was here that the Major received his lieutenants. He was sitting
back, leaning in the chair. The shadows clung to him such that only the gleam of
his glasses and his immaculate white glove could be seen. The sounds of his
command center rolled around him and he just absorbed it, appearing for all the
world as the eye of a hurricane of constant updates and status reports being
barked out from all corners of the world.
	The door closed behind Rip Van as she walked into the room, a swirl of
mist passing between her legs. She walked without pause straight up to the man
she had dedicated her life, her unlife and her death to. Once she was a few feet
away she stopped, snapping her heels together smartly and thrusting her arm
outward in a salute.
	"Heil! Lieutenant Rip Van Winkle reporting!"
	"Velcome home, Rip Van," Schrodinger said from his usual lounging place
just to the side of the Major's chair. He grinned, his teeth gleaming ferally in
the half-light. For a strange moment, all Rip Van could see of him was the gleam
of his monstrous grin, giving her the impression he was nothing but a
disembodied set of teeth. "I see you managed to actually complete your mission!"
	A murmur of laughter echoed around the chamber. Rip Van bristled but
said nothing. The Major had never said anything to her about her failures.
Nothing direct. Nothing that could be considered disappointment.
	"Lieutenant," the Major greeted her. "Please relax. Zis is not an
inquisition." Rip Van did relax, dropping her salute and crossing her arms
behind her back. She kept her eyes on him and ignored Schrodinger as he made his
way over to the board, tearing down the sheet of paper to reveal a fresh eight-
seven below the words 'Days Since Rip Van Has Been Forced To Crawl Back Half-
Dead After Her Latest Humiliating Defeat'. She ground her teeth, but let no
expression show on her face. She was a soldier. She was a perfect soldier.
Victory would be hers. Eventually.
	"I haf returned from China, Herr Major. Ze mission vas a complete
success."
	"Vas it now?" The Major's voice never changed, but she could sense his
amusement. "Zen you located the girl, Hotaru? You destroyed the source of zese
Oblivion cultists?"
	"I..." Rip Van lowered her head. "Nein, Herr Major. I haf destroyed the
cult zat vas harrying our forces in ze area, however."
	"Ah. Too bad." He paused. "Zis girl, this Silence Messiah, she is a
formidable opponent and her bodyguard even more so. I would have liked to see
how your upgrades vould haf fared."
	Rip Van said nothing.
	"Did you at least get a chance to test your upgrade?" the Major asked
innocently.
	Rip Van closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Thinking of her
'upgrades' always filled her with a soft terror, a terror she would never admit
to anyone. It always went the same. She would engage an opponent too great for
her skills and powers, and nearly die. Then she would be forced to flee, often
missing several limbs and on the verge of second death. At these times the Major
would never frown at her. He would never berate her for failure in her mission.
He would never question what she could have done better, how she could have
fought harder. There was never any punishment or reprimand.
	Instead, she was simply sent to Alexia. The experiments would begin. The
tests. The implants. The injections. The weeks spent floating in sickening
fluids filled with poisons and acids that ate her flesh even as they rebuilt
her. Once... once she had broken down and asked the Major if these sessions with
the madwoman were a punishment for her failures.
	He had looked at her and he had told her something that had hurt her
more than any wound she had ever taken. He had told her the truth. "My dear Rip
Van Winkle. You are a veapon. You are MY veapon. Every day you live is so that I
may use you as a way of destroying my enemies. I vill not haf a veapon that is
less than a perfect machine. I vill not haf a veapon that is capable of failure.
But to destroy you for not being perfect? Preposterous! As vell blame a rifle
for misfiring or a tank for breaking down. No, Rip Van, when a veapon breaks you
fix it. You improve it. Every time you break, I vill improve you. Zat is your
purpose. Your mission, your battles against my true enemies... zey are tests of
your power. Do not zink of your defeats as failures. Zink of zem as evolution."
Then he had patted her on the head. "Now, ve haf much vork still to do before
you are perfect."
	The words still burned in the back of her mind. Her fists clenched
behind her back and her eyes narrowed. She was more than a weapon. She would
prove it to him. She would prove it to everyone. Whatever mission she would be
sent on, she would succeed at. She needed no more treatments. She needed no more
experiments. Her will alone would allow her to succeed.
	"Ja, I see." The Major leaned back again and his white teeth briefly
flashed from the silhouette of his figure. "Wery vell, Lieutenant Rip Van
Winkle. I haf a new assignment for you."
	"Ja!" She snapped her heel again sharply.
	"Ve haf learned that Bison intends to deploy Lotus Infinite again."
	The words hung in the air for a long time. Rip Van Winkle snarled.
Always her. Always her. Time after time, she would destroy all enemies placed
before her. Then, then it would be time for them to test them against Bison's
precious superweapon. A war by proxy. But for Rip Van, it was much more than a
simple mission. Every defeat she had ever faced. Every failure. It was always
her.
	"Vhere is she?" she snarled.
	"Zat..." The Major leaned forward, his face finally coming into the
light. The scar that boy had left there still traced up his cheek. A reminder,
he was fond of saying, that one should never grow too at ease when one was at
war.  He smiled at her beatifically. "Zat is the INTERESTING part..."

*

	"Damn it, Cologne!" Purgstall smashed his palms into the table, denting
the marble. "How the hell am I supposed to explain this?"
	Cologne was not intimidated by his temper. She was sitting in her chair,
her gaze level. Her eyes had never changed. Even before she had undergone the
rejuvenation process, her eyes had contained that hint of steely independence.
They were not the eyes of a woman who was cowed. He had seen those same eyes
meet the gaze of a zoalord who could flatten her without pause and never flinch.
	"Frankly, at this point I don't care how you explain it," she replied
icily.
	"First, you requisition Chronos intelligence resources without
authorisation. You're not a member of Chronos, Cologne. You don't have any
authority here." Her eyes narrowed a bit, but he met her gaze with his own level
glare. "Then you run off to Sweden with the girls. And in the process you not
only manage to kill hundreds of civilians and destroy a large portion of
Stockholm, you also managed to get yourself and the girls injured." Here Cologne
finally was forced to look away. She made no move to grasp the sling that
supported her arm. He knew she wasn't thinking of that anyway. She was thinking
of the girls.
	"Yes, that's right. You put them in needless danger against an enemy you
didn't have correct intelligence on." He stepped around the table. "And worse
yet, you didn't even succeed! This... assassin escaped."
	"Yes..." Cologne said softly. For a moment she sounded as young as she
looked, like a young woman who had been chastised. Then the steel returned to
her voice an instant later. "But none of this would have happened if you had
been willing to make a move!"
	"It isn't my decision-"
	"I know that!" she snapped, cutting him off. She stood up quickly. "I
don't blame you for Chronos' inability to see the truth right in front of them,
Frederick." She walked over to him. "It's Arkanphel. He can't see past his own
power. He doesn't realise how much of a threat Chris represents to us... to
everything." She moved closer to him, so close he could feel the heat of her.
"If you could just convince the other zoalords to see him as the threat he
is..."
	"This isn't about how much Chris threatens Arkanphel, and you know it,
Cologne." He backed away a step, his voice suddenly icy.
	Cologne's eyes narrowed. She tossed her head, her silken black hair
whipping around as she turned her back on him. "Yes, I want him dead for what he
did to my great-granddaughter. But that isn't the only reason I'm here,
Frederick, and you know THAT. Chris is an enemy that will destroy YOU. I don't
care about Arkanphel, or his quixotic crusade. But if Chris decides that Chronos
needs to be destroyed, he will not stop with just Arkanphel. He'll butcher every
zoalord in his path as well."
	"Which he didn't have a reason to do, until today," Purgstall pointed
out sharply. She stiffened. "I admit that this Chris is a dangerous power. If he
has the abilities you've attributed to him, then he is beyond anything we've
ever faced. But he's been content to keep a low profile for the last seven
years. He isn't doing anything, Cologne. Why can't we just let him be?"
	"No." She reached up with her good hand and hugged herself. "I've heard
rumours. He's up to something. I haven't been able to learn much about it. Just
a name. Kalia. Whatever that means." She paused. "It's big, and I think once
he's finished with it, then it will be too late." She whirled to face him again.
"We have to stop him NOW!"
	"Arkanphel said..."
	"Damn Arkanphel!" she roared. "If you won't stop him, I will!"
	"Cologne!" he roared. For a moment he allowed his full power, all his
authority and command to leak into his voice. He had hoped he would never have
to do that with her. The effect was as immediate as it was painful to watch. She
shrunk back. For a moment, she almost fell into a martial stance. He moved past
that image quickly. "You will do no such thing. One of his minions almost killed
you. A girl that you say has been working for him for less than two years. You
can't stop him alone."
	"The girls..."
	"The girls have no part of this vendetta and you know it." He reached up
and rubbed his temples. "VesVes will be in the infirmary for a week, since she
won't use the rejuvenation tanks. The others are hardly better off. I..." He
trailed off for a moment.
	"I know." She paused. "I... didn't want them to get hurt. I never
thought about..." She hesitated again, then chuckled wryly. "I'll let you in on
a secret, Frederick. At first, when they first came here... I wanted them as
weapons. Their magic, their mastery of the Second Circle. It was a weapon I
could use against him... but now..." She sighed. "I never thought they'd get
hurt."
	"Yes." He paused. "Go to the infirmary. Have the med-techs heal your
injuries. I have to report this to the zoalord council... I'll try to keep your
name out of it."
	"You don't have to protect me!" she snapped.
	"No. I don't have to, but I want to."
	She blinked, then her expression softened and she smiled at him. He
stared at her face for a long time. Then she sighed and nodded. A moment later
the door hissed closed behind her.
	Purgstall walked over to his desk, frowning at the damage he had
inflicted. He hated to waste resources having it repaired or replaced... but
appearances had to be maintained. He sat down and touched a hidden button,
causing a drawer to slide free. He pulled out the single object inside: a simple
folder, filled almost to overflowing. It was labeled simply 'Chris'.
	In this folder was all the information he had gathered on Chris over the
years. In it was all the information Cologne had told him, all that she had
given him in confidence since they had first become... allies. The information
in this document frightened him. It frightened him more than the Guyver had. It
frightened him more than Akane Tendo's resistance, or Millennium, or the Messiah
of Silence and her cult. If the information in here was true, then they were up
against an enemy that could be anyone, could go anywhere, and could kill with
impunity.
	Such an enemy would not hesitate to track down one old woman who had
declared herself his mortal enemy. Such a being would not allow her to announce
to all the world that he was there. Secrecy was his most potent weapon, and
Purgstall knew that when he felt that was threatened... people vanished.
	Cologne had given him all that information, expecting him to pass it
along to Arkanphel, to the Zoalord Council. He gathered up the report Cologne
had given of her misadventure in Sweden and placed it in the folder as well. As
the hidden drawer slid closed with a soft snap, he set about thinking what lies
he would pass along to the zoalord council this time.

*

	The wind of the sea was refreshing as Ranma strolled along the
boardwalk. The people of Auckland moved by on either side of him in small
groups. He smiled at a young couple lingering near the water. The man's arm was
around the woman's shoulder and she was leaning into his chest. The two were
laughing at some private joke, but mainly just enjoying the closeness of their
bodies. Ranma shook his head.
	He and Minako had been like that once. Not that they didn't enjoy being
close anymore, but they had grown a little beyond the helpless giggling and
baby-talk phase. These days, they had begun to develop a sort of personal time,
where being apart from each other was almost tolerable. Not that he still didn't
miss her, but Minako preferred to do things her own way.
	For instance, she had come to this city expecting to have their long-
delayed vacation. She'd been talking about having a vacation for almost three
years. He'd told her that if they really wanted to get some peace and quiet they
should just crash at his father's place like they did whenever they ran out of
cover identities. She kept saying stuff about 'romance' and 'personal time' that
he didn't really understand but went along with.
	Ranma had suggested New Zealand. It was a nice place. This time of year
the place wasn't nearly as full of tourists as it would be in a few months,
since it was st