[FFML] [Ranma/OMG] [Revised] NaRT4 II - Vile Fables For Progressive Children Ch. 10-12

[David Andersson]

NaRT4 - Part II: Vile Fables For Progressive Children

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Ranma ½ © Rumiko Takahashi, Oh! My Goddess! © Kosuke Fujishima, as well as any local licensee affiliates. However everything of my own creation connected to this story, including scenarios, titles, dialogue, text, and any original characters are © to myself, and may not be used without permission. Any similarity to existing people or organisations is entirely coincidental, beyond archetypal significance. No animals were harmed through the writing of this narrative. Constructive comments & criticism are very appreciated.

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Warning: 
The story will contain a great deal of potentially offensive, politically incorrect, unfamiliar, or emotionally challenging material, including disturbing characters and philosophies, swearing, layers of irony, and occasional graphic violence. Much of the text incorporates sweeping, tongue-in-cheek, over-the-top satire. Please use personal discretion, and do not enter without a sense of humour. If you can stand watching South Park or even the Simpsons, this likely shouldn’t present too much of a problem.

It’s also using a loose timeframe between scenes, much like the manga itself. Jumps may imply anything from a few hours to several days. The portrayals are almost exclusively matter-of-fact referenced in the source material, rather than any derivatives. 

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Crossroad car crash: Boom! Krakka-Thoom!


Oyabun Kurosawa Takehiko had worked overtime, overhearing a greater than usual amount of briefings from his saiko-komon advisors and so-honbucho operational chiefs, deliberating and imparting his decisions. A considerable amount of wakagashira and fuku-honbucho had either been caught in the act of illegal activities, which made them into potential liabilities, or failed in their duties, which directly reflected on their superiors. Many severed fingertips had been delivered, and in a few extreme cases of ineptitude hara-kiri had been demanded or summarily enforced. Operations had been adapted, replacement kubon had been sworn to his direct service by ritual sakazuki sake-sharing, internal bickering had been dealt with, information-gathering and assassinations had been arranged, officials had been contacted and negotiated with… and so on. Tiring, but necessary.

He entered a more secluded office for a final paper review of daily financial results, suggested future enterprises, requested expenses, and breakthroughs in his quite considerable corporate empire. He was first and foremost an eminently pragmatic businessman. The ceremonies were strictly to maintain an ingrained superstitious cultural and structural loyalty in smaller, more fearful, or less disciplined minds. He didn’t enjoy having to occasionally resort to employing arcane nonsense-mongers, but it seemed to keep some of his employees happy. Numbers, strategy, law and practical psychology, these were palpable things he could mould into a pattern. He was looking forward to the expansion towards more mainstream business-ventures. He could let his eldest son take up the role of Kumicho, to handle the dull protection rackets, night-clubs, heroin, pornography or sex-trade trick-girl smuggling, gambling, loan-sharking, wrestling promotion, rigged contests,
 and realty market enforcement. Takehiko had gained influence in sufficient boards of directors, and even made a few outright, but extremely expensive, acquisitions to finally get away from this nonsense, and be respected as a competent truly legitimate businessman. Aah, it would be a fitting activity and intellectual stimulation for his twilight years.

The room was dark, too dark, ominous to the extent of an almost palpable living, breathing thing. Something or someone was concealed within it. Takehiko’s eyes intently fixated. He did not like uncertainties; they had a habit of turning into crucial liabilities. The permeating darkness made the features too murky to discern. Its cloak of shadows only revealed a brash satisfied smile of gleaming white teeth, biting a smouldering cigar. The Veteran had arrived.

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Everything proceeded very swiftly from that point onwards. It always did when The Veteran was concerned. After skimming images of all the known ESP officers and succinct briefings of their known capabilities, he settled on one picture in particular. He pointed at a serene bald man covered by resplendent symbols of mismatched, but strangely appealing patterns. “The rest are one-in-a-dozens, but that guy could be trouble.”
Takehiko was almost shocked. “Even for you?”
“Even for me. I’ll take care of him first. It should send the right message.”
“Will you need any assistance?”
“Nah, but check for some bulky, reinforced, secluded warehouse you’re not afraid to lose, and clear it out on short notice.”
The Veteran blew some smoke in Takehiko’s face. “See, I’m just here as a favour for a little pal of mine, and I’m a very busy man, so don’t waste my time.”
The sacrosanct Oyabun Muramasa Takehiko was not accustomed to take orders from anybody, not even high-level politicians or business-leaders. He could get to anyone, anywhere. It was his fundamental job description. This man he unswervingly obeyed without thinking. He made a few calls, not even noticing that his guest was nowhere to be found.

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Muramasa Taikio leapt and sprinted around the buildings and area surrounding the manor he had inherited from his father, currently honouring the latter by being committed to a most worthy task. Many times too swift to perceive for a normal man, he kept scanning for potentially overlooked or sudden intrusions. It was a regular routine patrol, performed once every hour day and night, entrusted to and alternated in shifts between Ryuu, himself, and their 12 most trusted adepts, who nonetheless had been resolutely instructed to cover it in pairs. Constant vigilance had become of absolute necessity.

Taikio was worried, not for himself of course, but he had a great responsibility to his esteemed colleagues, even more so than to the public welfare. He had started this organisation, and nobody would die on his watch because they believed in his dream. Never. He was aware that it was a naïve aspiration, but he would never falter so much as an inch. 

The sensitives were incredibly upset, and Kiyoko wasn’t much better off. It was not easy on her to soothe them under such circumstances. They had woken up screaming in alternating cycles several times for the past week, including the ones bedded in their own homes throughout the first episode. He had immediately taken steps to see to that they were all safely hosted at the temple until the crisis was over, and were housed in separate soundproof chambers to ensure that they could sleep in intervals without awakening each other. They had been given blocks and pencils to write down any remembered information. Almost nothing had come up beyond what was revealed during the first occasion. A great looming shadow, tempest, or thundercloud covering the horizon, far greater than the eyes could measure, eating everything in its path, with desolation, corpses, beasts, and unrestrained savagery left behind wherever it had passed. 

In lack of better options Taikio had commanded that all active officers should return and stay at the headquarters until further notice. It was the first time he had used his authority in such a manner, and he much preferred to allow the organisation greater flexibility than one man could impart, but he didn’t consider himself to have a choice in this matter. Something was very, very wrong. All precognitives and analysts worked extra time to find information about similar patterns, or current terrorist- and Yakuza-activities, while the mystics simultaneously further strengthened the defences, if possible, and very carefully probed for supernatural incursions. Chi-adepts and combat-espers trained en masse, or in squads against himself and Ryuu, to find ways to deal with overwhelming enemies through efficient teamwork, while being coached in the usage of powerful specified artillery. Trimming them to be on the ready for go into battle or defend the
 public at the slightest alert. He would not fail them. Never.

Thankfully no significant other threats had been signalled or appeared so far, at least not beyond what the regular forces could handle, and naturally they were automatically supplied with what information the ESP could provide.

He paused before the entrance. It was the scheduled time to let another team handle the next three hours. No danger had been detected, but that was not reassuring. He focused a host of senses, honed and amplified from their natural state or provided otherwise. There! A hole in the pattern! He span and unsheathed his consecrated swords in a single motion, staring at the corner of the house across the road. Nothing was there except the unlit shadows.
The darkness spoke. “You’re everything I thought and then some. I actually tried this time.”
Taikio intensified all sources of revealing radiance at his disposal, directing his full capacity towards the clouded spot. The light would not dispel it. He unloaded several salvos of first-rate exorcist shells of shifting qualities in less than half a second, refastened the shotgun to his back, and caught his right blade in mid-flight, less than an inch lower than he left it: Still negligible effect.
The voice continued unabated, as if it hadn’t even noticed. “Do you fear the gloomy midnight hours boy? Just welcome those pesky little urges that tingle in your ear, but you’d rather not admit, and you will be the fear.”
Taikio didn’t falter in the slightest, or so much as twitch. “I walk in the light, and am no longer a child. I have met the creatures that go bump in the night. They offer me no terrors.”
A chuckle of genuine amusement was heard. “Stupid. Very, very stupid.” Then a brief pause “You took your while. I’ve been eating a bento while I waited. There are some leftovers. Want it?”
There existed no doubt in Taikio’s mind that this was incredibly serious.
“No? Some of you righteous guys can be quite a bore at times. Just take a few moments to enjoy a ham sandwich every now and then, that’s what I always say.”
Taikio discerned some chomping sounds.
“Now that’s what I call food. Eat one every day and you’ll live to be 2000 at least. Take it from one who knows.”
Taikio was poised, assessing multiple lines of attack. He did not mistake the jovial tone for lack of awareness.
“Of course that’s kind of a moot point for yourself, isn’t it?”
There was something wrong with the air.
“See, I dropped some pellets with really potent ingredients right behind you, just before we started chatting. Your guard is actually pretty good. I had to go through my old camping bag for them. Rare mythic stuff, you know the sort. I figured, hey some of them should get through, right?”
Taikio observed his deadened legs giving way, and fell to his knees.
The darkness gave way to a glinting perfect grin. “Tough luck. You stretched your eyes a teeny bit too late. Otherwise this might have turned interesting.”
Taikio felt a wire tightening around his throat, cutting off the oxygen. Then he didn’t sense anything.

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Taikio come to from a splash of water to his face. He immediately noticed an unfamiliar man placing an emptied bucket on the floor. He was completely clear-headed, as he had been trained to be, no matter the circumstances, and quickly scanned and analysed his situation and surroundings. 

A rough, muscular, ostensibly military man of unreadable nationality; good-humoured expression indicates unchanged antagonist; demonstrated as immensely dangerous: Check. 
Empty closely sealed building with thick walls and iron fortification: Check. 
No external light but metabolism implies 2 hours past capture. Middle of the night, rescue unpromising: Check.
Body suspended; arms held outstretched in taut chains firmly fastened to the roof, and legs identically secured to the floor: Check. 
Test tensile strength. Not steel, much harder; can’t break. Colour indicates silver? Doesn’t make sense: Multiple runes: Clever, using my own forte against me. Focus.
Blades dropped within sight. Bond unchanged. Calling them to break me free: No result?
Searching the planes for assistance: Cut off beyond this area. Almost blinded. 
Mind-melding with shackles and shields: Successful.
Searching and negotiating harmony, while unravelling the lattices: Impending success interval required: Far too protracted.
Unacceptable: Internalising energy from limiting immediate area. Moulding pattern for encouragement to draw upon a widening net: Partial success. Unknown disturbance/interference ensures slow reaction. 
Stronger connection/Intentional/Unconscious? Probe: Two or all options. Focus: Energised and highly accelerated process but prognosis remains unacceptable.
Exert counter-harmonic, destabilising hostile pattern: Incredibly strong, immensely wide, but very different from my own: Not quite suited to impede me, not entirely unaffected.
Conclusion: Eventual success, dependent on conscious effort from hostile presence. Best prospect: 5 minutes. Demonstrated mastery of stalling ascertained: Overt efforts would draw attention: Keep quiet. Be very careful. Don’t set off traps or alarms.
Following options: Too dangerous opponent. Chance of success without preparation almost non-existent: Flee to nigh-impenetrable shielding: Undergo ritualistic empowerment: Arm with host of suitable artefacts against now scrutinised threat.

The Veteran observed his prisoner with genuine curiosity. “Well boy, gots ta say I’m mightily impressed. Those are sum fancy-schmancy tattoos ya got sportin’ there. Crucifix armour thrice-blessed with holy water by da Opus Dei; Ev'ry Shinto ward ‘gainst evil known ta man; Melted down ritual-enchanted lucky cats, gads, bodhisattvas, draguns an’ frogs; Ancient sacred sutras from hidden lamas; Dreamtime, Native American, an’ Loa symbols from undertaken spirit quests; Eldritch runes; Presence traces o’ da gaddiss descendin’ before Alastair Crowley, an’ jest ‘bout ev'ry major lei-line junction or empowered spot on da planet; Sum mighty fine work by Chaos Magic hipsters an’ Kabala mystics; Chi realigned by thorough acupuncture, temple fastin’ an’ meditations in da eightfold path; Melted down totemic an’ consecrated relics from all corners o’ da world; Why I might even sniff a touch o’ Anansi da trickster in there. Heck, ya got
 stuff even I don’t know ‘bout, an’ lemme tell ya that’s really sayin’ sumethin’…”

Taikio briefly considered why his subjugator had opted to switch from flawless Japanese to an odd light mixture of English dialects, but he discarded it as a personal joke, nothing more, and nothing less, and Taikio was conversant in many languages. The inquisitiveness worked in his favour. Focus.

The Veteran ponderingly shook his head. “Ya oughta be proud mate, on a way turnin’ yerself into a darn-tooting real-McCoy archetype there. Sum young punk thinkin’ he’s darned clever an’ got ev'ry angle covered ta fool da old man.” He paused and calmly took out the ever smoke-belching cigar, puffing a few rings into the air.
“Now… I’ll admit that normally that jest might constitute a bit o’ a problem. Why, ya could even get through mah defences; maybe bring me down if I had a really bad day. Unfortunately baby boy…” He blew a cloud of smoke into Taikio’s face. “I’m mach older an’ better at this game’n ya’ll ever get a chance ta be, an’ there jest ain’t room fer both o’ us ‘round here.”
He loosened a sword from the arsenal strapped to his back. “Now this here might jest be a tad familiar in these parts.” He struck it deep into Taikio’s left lung. “It’s called Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, da Grasscutter.”

(He waited until just before I would break free!) “You’re a monster.” Taikio faintly wheezed, blood dribbling from his mouth. A chaos-factor had been added to his pattern. Try again. I’m almost done. Focus. Compensate. Focus.
The Veteran spat some chewing-tobacco on the floor. “Naw, I’m jest a good ol’ soil o’ da Earth patriot, fer whatever nation or cause I’m doin’ this week.” He loosened another. “An’ jest in case yer non-Shinto wards might keep ya alive an’ heal ya from that.” He impeccably mirrored the act to the right. “This is called Excalibur. It should take care o’ da Christian an’ faerie charms. I’ve got quite a little collection, if I may say so myself. It’s a grand ol’ hobby o’ mine. I’ve melted a few o’ them down into guns an’ such, but no worries, there’s more’n enough left.”
Sparkles glimmered before Taikio’s eyes. Another one, but he was so close. When he broke free he would mostly recover almost right away. He could do this. There. Just a few more pushes, just a few more strings… Focus.
The Veteran slapped his prisoner in the face. “Now don’t ya pass out on me yet ya sissy. I got lots more famous crap ta entertain ya with… Probably more’n ya even heard o’… “ 
He took off the unusual backpack, and scrutinised the blades, thoughtfully picking out and weighing them up one by one, testing the balance in his hands, and making a few playful experimental swings. Finally selecting a pair he seemed satisfied with. Holding them before Taikio’s exhausted half-closed eyes. “Now here’s da prides o’ Lu Dongbin an’ Le Loi. I’m not rightly sure if da first one’ll work but we’ll find out soon, won’t we? Then we’ll get ta Kladenets, Shamshir, Gram, Fragarach, an’ plenty more ta come.”

Taikio reassessed the circumstances. The fiend was going to insert another weapon into his body in virtual rhythm with his progress. Dangling hope before his eyes just to snatch it away at the last moments, and gradually wearing him down until it was over, but he would not let this butcher slaughter his friends, his fellow dreamers, his substitute family. Never. One of them would be chosen to serve as protector in his stead. One of them would collaborate with the others to succeed where he had failed. He dearly hoped the selection would be quicker than expected. There was so little time… He had thought a few days would be enough. Stupid! Focus. Nudge it. Focus. Speed it up. Focus. Not enough. Focus. “Life… freedom… truth… courage… honour… joy… beauty… kindness… love… temperance… fulfilment… hopes… justice.” Taikio’s whisper was almost too low to hear, but the runes covering his skin commenced to glow and unwind. Swirling
 around his body and scattering as streaks of light, to reassemble at an unidentified location. 

The Veteran took out his cigar and evenly watched the display. “Ya got more guts’n I gave ya credit fer. Leavin’ yerself exposed jest so sumebody else could take up da duty.” He interlocked his hands and straightened them forward, palms front, to work out some kinks. “O’course, that means we can have even more fun.”

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Taikio was found late the next morning. Forensics had to identify the remnants by DNA tests. He was delivered on a stretcher to ESP headquarters, for potential further investigation in matters outside of their competence area. 

The report established that he had somehow been kept alive for several hours as he slowly bled to death, kept awake by drugs they could only begin to classify. His teeth, nails and eyes removed by pliers. His limbs gradually chopped off slice by slice with the stumps speedily seared to prevent instant demise, burns from fire and acid covering every inch of his body, or what remained of it, and eventually drowned in his own blood from a slashed throat. Taikio, the holy warrior, the invulnerable rune-soldier, the unstoppable sword of light piercing any tides of darkness, looked very vulnerable and extremely dead.

Ryuu, hardened as he was, instantly threw up as he saw the remains. (I don’t know squat. I really don’t.) 
Kiyoko was inconsolable. “Even his brain was carved out! Who could want to do such a thing?” 
Hitomi was already working overtime to find out more, having taken temporary firm command of the psychics, mystics, and analysts, in the absence of certified authority.
Ryuu offhandedly wiped off his mouth with his right sleeve. He hesitantly refrained from comforting the crying warden. Mushy stuff wasn’t his strong suit. He would likely just worsen it. “Sometimes I think ‘growing up’ means having no tears left to give,” he muttered.

“Um…”
Apparently Hayato wouldn’t leave his chamber even for happenings right next door. “At least it finally shut you up…” There was unshakeable steel in Ryuu’s eyes.  “The conceited bastard has thrown down the gauntlet… I’ll nail this cop-killing ass-wipe.”
“Well suckage, but you know, cheer up, it’s all good. He just met a bigger predator, didn’t want to win enough, or chose to let go. It’s all a natural process de rigueur… Hyuh-hh-hff, ‘nail him’.”
“I’m really considering making your insensitive ass intimately familiar with the natural process.”
“…”
“I thought so.”

There had been a sticker pasted to Taikio’s exposed skull-bone. “Don’t mess with the big Y. Same place, 12 hours. Bring me your best. No shitting. We’ll do this upfront. Don’t try to be sneaky. I’m only nice once. V.” And it had been approximately 10 hours since Taikio passed away, was discovered, identified, went through some bureaucracy, and then unceremoniously dumped at their doorstep… too slow, way too slow.
Hitomi was perplexed. “But why? Why a formal challenge, and at the same spot? They’ve shown that they can just pick us off one-by-one.”
Simply stating that Ryuu looked grim would be the understatement of the year. “A warrior would understand. They want to strike the point home. Nobody should dare to pick up the torch.”

Ryoga swallowed when Ryuu relayed the situation per telephone. This was really sick. “Yeah, sure I’ll lend a hand, but I can’t find you that fast. I’d need a week at least to make it.”
It had been half an hour until Ryuu had finally got a hold of him. After he explained the urgency Akari had sent both Holly and her trained sumo-pigs, to track and retrieve her fiance from the neighbouring forest… Where the latter had unwillingly walked in random circles for the last 2 hours, intent on ‘making Akari proud of him’ by finding his way back by himself. Ryuu was definitely not in the mood to be patient with his, technically handicapped and usually well-intended, but currently awfully annoying sort-of buddy. “Oh shut up! I’m so fucking tired of your goddamn neuroses! They got Taikio all right? Taikio! He looks like something out of a meat factory! Like it or not, you’re the strongest guy I know who’s still alive, and I can’t reach the cross-dresser or the ugly duckling. I don’t have time dammit! I’m using a last resort government sanction to call you in as a temporary officer under my command. Now grow a set, and just tell
 that flying antique of yours that we all know and loathe to get you here fast, that’s an order!” Ryuu shut down the connection.

“Preachy! Preachy!”
“Shut up Hayato, just shut up. I need to think.”

Hao Li gently lowered Ryoga to the ground outside of the gate about 30 minutes afterwards, whispered something in his ear and flew off. It was not her place to interfere when the men went to war. She was Dragon, Hao Long Li. She had honoured her designated for over 400 years, but would do her duty, no matter how painful it might be. If he fell her obligation bound her to await the arrival of another. The lineage must survive.
Ryoga briefly followed her path with his eyes.
Ryuu thought that he caught something vaguely wistful or contemplative in that look. “What did she say?”
Ryoga didn’t move. “Die well. She said die well.”
Ryuu irritably punched a large hole in a nearby stonewall. “Oh that’s brilliant! That’s inspiring! Now I’m brimming with confidence! At least I hope you finally got it through that thick skull of yours to not hold back on me? Go all out from the start and take this guy down hard, even if you have to blow up a few mountains to do it!”
Ryoga solemnly nodded. 

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4 minibuses drove towards the appointed spot. The Ry-duo was accompanied by any elite chi-users, or high-level psi-ops the ESP could dredge up on so short notice, carrying the most powerful, practically useful, combat-oriented artefacts in their arsenal. As assigned squad-leader, Ryuu mentally inspected his available troops. He well knew their full capabilities, but even with weapons they individually all fell far short of him, and Ryoga might be able to handle all of them together… It would not be enough unless he came up with a plan quick, but he didn’t know what to expect. Whoever, or whatever this was, it took down Taikio… That meant it could get through the defences of practically anyone, or anything.

As they entered the empty storehouse, there was a very small group awaiting them by the opposing wall. Some hardy-looking goons with machine guns encircled Taro in the front. The latter was glaring at Ryuu with unmitigated hatred, but Ryuu disregarded them as obvious window-dressing. There was something else in the room, a presence so intense and overwhelming that all his instincts screamed, pushed, prodded, and pleaded that he should flee and leave the country, or better yet the planet. A muscular, unshaved, bare-chested, smoking man in army khakis and a plain leather jacket stepped forward from the rear. He was unarmed save for two seemingly ordinary colts Magnum strapped to his belt. There was something extremely eerie about the ceaseless smile on his face. 

Ryuu noticed that the adversary was eating from a skewer spearing a very unusual-looking lump of meat covered in an odd mixture of barbecue-sauce, beans, syrup, and coconut butter. (“Even his brain was carved out…”) An arctic chill went down his spine, nearly freezing it to ice. (Psychological warfare, just psychological warfare… No… He doesn’t need the advantage… He thinks it’s funny to watch me squirm…)

The Veteran playfully winked at Ryuu. “Animals feed on other animals kid. You mind telling nature the difference?” He neglectfully flung away the stick, and gestured rearwards with his right palm. “Fall back boys. Let an old pro’ show you youngsters how it’s done.” (Fall back boys. Let an old pro’ show you youngsters how it’s done.) 
If it was anyone else Taro would very likely have ignored the order, but he reluctantly complied. He put on his most smug, spiteful, and in-your-face obnoxious smirk, demonstratively held out an IPhone, and hit “record”. This one should give him warm and fuzzy feelings for many years to come.

“I thought I told you to take this seriously!?” Ryuu snapped over his shoulder.
Ryoga looked confused. “What do you? …Oh.” He jadedly accepted a very familiar splash of water, and was instantaneously replaced by the great Siberian Tiger, eyes shining as his aura intensified beyond even its usual level.”

“By the power of…”
“Shut up Hayato, and get me someone else. You’re not useful.” Ryuu scanned the scenery, keeping track of the developments. Any unexpected movements or signs of an ambush would be summarily dealt with.

Ryoga shone like a small sun, accumulating a titanic wave of force. He let loose a primal roar. Focusing the build-up towards the still carefree and amused, soon to be vaporised, Veteran. The blast was set to emanate, but instantly rippled, fizzled, simultaneously curved inwards and detonated in all directions, as an explosive feedback-loop centred on Ryoga himself. Comatose, the tiger fell hard to the ground. It had never happened before, and wasn’t the least bit feasible, but ‘implausible’ was one of The Veteran’s numerous middle names.

The Veteran once again took out his cigar, and blew a large puff of smoke. “Well, colour me impressed. It’s been a few generations since I saw that kind of power from your typical chi-generator, but boy oh boy do you have to work on your aim.” (Well, colour me impressed. It’s been a few generations since I saw that kind of power from your typical chi-generator, but boy oh boy do you have to work on your aim.) 
He walked straight across the massive tiger, calmly wiping his soles on its pelt, as if the fallen powerhouse was unworthy of notice, and lightly tapped the cigar with a finger to release some ashes into Ryoga’s face as it were. “I’ll have some fun with you later boy. Better wake up soon, or it will be over real quick.” (I’ll have some fun with you later boy. Better wake up soon, or it will be over real quick.)

The nonchalant gesture wasn’t lost on Ryuu, who had to fight off another intense shiver. He spoke into his minimised headset. “Give me some data fast!”

“Bad, bad news!” Hitomi’s voice, uncharacteristically shaken. “We can’t get a human reading on him at all, just images of tidal waves, hurricanes, earthquakes, erupting volcanoes, moving glaciers… forces of nature! It’s an avatar!”
“Fuck! How do we handle that?”
“We don’t! He’s connected to everything, to causality! The entire universe is working on his side!”
“Get a hold of yourself! Can you cut off his connection? Make it loose track? Trick it? Shift it around?”
“I don’t know. Maybe for a few seconds if we all chip in, and use your on-site equipment as a focus.”
“Then get to it. I’ll stall him. Once you get an opening, yell.” Ryuu kept bouncing around at full speed in irregular intuitive patterns, several hundred miles an hour, trying to instil confusion by launching a myriad of aerial ripples behind him as he went. Each of them directed around, but not towards, the calmly cigar-smoking killer, hoping against hope that the defences wouldn’t activate if he didn’t directly attack, that the killer would be restricted to his own flawless aim, that the latter’s comparatively slow speed would win precious minutes, as the machinegun smattered bullets following his path. Was the man playing with him? Four bullets graced each of his respective legs at precisely corresponding spots. They shouldn’t have gone through, but they did. Damn, it hurt. Push on. Two more. He was getting slower. He wanted to shove that grin down the bastard’s throat so bad. Another pair went straight through his heels. He lost his
 footing, tumbling into, and crushing some aluminium crates.

“Now! There’s a karmic facsimile to his right! The link is disoriented! We can’t hold it! Go!” Ryuu didn’t register past the first word, sweeping his arms and aiming for a narrow path, straight towards the gunslinger.

Time suddenly dilated to slow motion for everyone present, every scarce moment extended a hundredfold. The blades struck The Veteran in unison, straight through chest, ribs and marrow, like they weren’t even there. Blood spurting whilst a titan among titans toppled towards the floor, as if choreographed to instil maximised melodrama.

Taro gaped in astonishment. (That’s impossible! I’ve seen him take down guys who’d chew up and spit out this runt for breakfast!) He rushed forward to the spot where his mentor… his father lay dying before his eyes.
The Veteran glanced at his protege with undaunted, slightly amused eyes. “The lucky number’s up kid, but hey you know it. I’ll always be back.” (The lucky number’s up kid, but hey you know it. I’ll always be back.) 
The Veteran playfully winked and did a thumbs-up. “All right trooper, keep up the good fight, make an impact, face it like a man, always look good, gladly die a thousand deaths rather than let your honour be stained, and do it laughing, got it?” (All right trooper. Keep up the good fight, make an impact, face it like a man, always look good, gladly die a thousand deaths rather than let your honour be stained, and do it laughing, got it?) He showed no signs of perspiration, trembling voice or less than jovial tone.
Taro swallowed. “Yes sir!”
The Veteran grinned even wider than previously. “Good soldier, good man. See you around.” (Good soldier, good man. See you around…………………..) He stopped talking, but still looked as alive as ever, frozen in an iconic sunshine smile, as a reminiscent, fading brown & white photograph that would haunt anyone for a lifetime.

Urd released her finger from the “delete” button. “Sorry, but this just wasn’t your story.” Any other goddess would get in enormous trouble for hacking into the parasitic “Nidhugg” system, much less undoing one of her mother’s most valued and reliable champions, but Urd was exactly aware of her position, and it was about time it turned remotely beneficial. Sadly the archetype would soon be reborn in another incarnation. Mankind would never let him die.

Taro stifled the tears itching in his eyes. Sissy-boy manners were unworthy to shame this epic moment. He could offer prayers later. The Veteran was dead. Debts had to be paid. The soul of the killer would rest in peace. (No more Mister nice guy!) He unfastened the lid from his hip flask, poured it over his head, and bellowed towards the heavens in a guttural howl shaking the foundations of the building. They were all going down hard. 

Ryuu finally managed to recover from the inexplicable paralysis that had held him in check. To find himself facing a berserk 2-ton behemoth with frothing mouth and bulging eyes, wildly charging and striking anything within reach, its power doubled by sheer fury, and ploughing through a barrage of vacuum-blades like the scratches didn’t even register, fully intent to squash Ryuu beneath its hooves.

Taro felt exhilarated as he pushed closer towards his foe. His cause was just, and his heart was true. Nothing was important beyond avenging his mentor, to teach this upstart the meaning of true power, honour and loyalty. The instrument of justice would see him pay for his crimes in oh so much blood, and pain, and death. Then he would wipe out everyone the speck ever knew, ever worked with, or ever meant anything to him. He would never have existed, while The Legend would live on forever.

Ryuu looked back towards his men. “Everybody get out! Now!” Thankfully they were well trained enough to react almost immediately, quickly moving towards the exit while two of them hauled a now human but groggy Ryoga over the shoulders. Regardless, Ryuu had no choice, and he hated himself for thinking the thought, but they would all die within moments anyway. He sprang after them and let loose another barrage in mid-flight, this one directed towards all walls and support-pillars within the locale, striking true with flawless aim. As planned, the building collapsed, centred straight on the monster.

Taro dug himself out as swift as he could manage, effortlessly removing thousands of tons of wreckage. His body was ached and bruised, possibly sporting another set of broken ribs, but he was part snake, part octopus, and part yeti. It would heal quickly. He would not be denied. His flunkies hadn’t been nearly that lucky. He reached a beam of light, blinking to adjust from the darkness and swept aside the final debris to free his torso. “Iron fang fingers!” The beast roared in agony, arms and tentacles striking wildly in all directions, as blood gushed from its solar plexus. “Fierce tiger opening gates blow!” It gasped and gurgled as its jugular was violently pushed backwards. “Poison snake deep hole blow!” The chest was hurting… bad. He was getting a bit dizzy. It was harder to move. He had to get his lower hooves free. Then he’d stomp this asshole into paste. All went black. 

Ryuu picked up his cell phone. “Officer Kumon, ESP sanctioned priority. I’ve got a major piece-of-shit perp bleeding to death over here. Check the GPS coordinates, possible witness protection. Special case, bring hot water. No time to explain.” He hung up. “You’re real lucky to be so damn bulky that I didn’t burrow all the way to your heart. You might even survive.” Not expecting an answer, he took a quick glance towards his unit, previously keeping a safe distance, but currently approaching. Everybody seemed to have made it out more or less all right. Everybody left alive after that butcher got through with him or her, that is. He spat at the filth lying on the ground. “Did you expect me to ‘play fair’, to take any pointless risks when my unit was on the line? Idiot. Stupid! Fucking! Idiot!” He heatedly kicked at it, hazily noticing that his foot was hurting and covered with coagulated blood. “I should kill you, I really should,
 and good riddance, but it’s against the protocol.”
“Ha! Bitchin! Fucking hardcore! What a douche. He’s not going to mess with us again! Mad dogs need to be put down on sight!”
Ryuu exhaled. At least some things never changed. “Starting with you Hayato?”

It was getting dark. The other officers chattered about some irrelevant matter. Ryuu caught the words “Kiyoko” and “strange patterns”, but it didn’t interest him. He was tired. He had declined unnecessary offers of treatment, but might need to rest. It had been a few hours. Clarifications had been given to involved regular authorities, alarmed pedestrians had been calmed, and reporters had been briefed about the standard special-situation strict government directives to not create uproar, and keep any articles to brief matter-of-fact curiosity pieces. They were getting ready to leave, shipping away Taro for treatment and a special holding cell. Ryuu remained atop the rubble, looking at the waning Sunset. He took a swig of beer, Taikio’s favourite brand. “Here’s to you bro.”

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Coming up:
The fallout. A line in the soil. The last stand.


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Pick up the tab please - The Dynasty shall claim its due.


Nabiki reflected on the just acquired news. Apparently the wannabe had been involved in some foolishly conspicuous power-grab confrontation, against a social institution no less, and obviously got arrested for the efforts. It just went to show that a leopard never lost its spots, even with a decent paint-job, and high-class fitness club membership.

She shrugged. Well, whatever. He was obviously way too predictable for his own, and far more importantly her good. She was a winner, and always landed on her feet. She didn’t enjoy burning bridges, but well knew when to cut her losses for other options, and hey, independence was always preferable anyway... A shame though, under her thumb he might have become a player. 

She had also acquired an entertaining hobby. Methodically scaring Ranma silly at his own urging, and for a pointless reason, did have a certain charm. It would succinctly hammer home the futility of his cause, and he would soon acclimatise to, and heartily embrace her far more sensible ambitions as a personal lifeline. Of course it was a bother when he sliced her safari target practices to pieces, but soothing him in her lap, to bring him back from the brink of psychosis, served to cultivate fundamental trust, whether he admitted it or not. Taro’s assistance in other matters would have been a very pleasant bonus but hardly crucial to her intents. (It’s so nice to help and spend some quality time together, although I dearly wish I didn’t have to upset him. And it’s probably best for the public safety that the poor confused boy is kept away, but it would be nice if he could be helped and saved through rehabilitation and therapy… Bullcrap and
 sentimental nonsense! Force it down. Don’t lose sight of who I am...)

Her unlisted ‘special occasions’ pay-card phone started to ring on her desk, a gift from merc-boy, to be continuously substituted to remain untraceable. He had been a bit quicker than anticipated. “Yes, this is the Hayashi theatre-group…” He had selected “forest” as default… funny man.
“Hello, this is Matsuoka Taro. We spoke earlier about a well-paid performance for our company. We have met some unexpected complications recently, some unfounded accusations from the law I’m afraid, but a less upscale private performance would be very appreciated under such dreary conditions. We have nothing but free time for the moment.” The voice sounded awful, raspy, and wheezing out every syllable, like even talking was a severe effort.
(“Hill covered with pine trees”? Don’t flatter yourself. I’m quite beyond your league.) “I’m afraid that we thus far are a somewhat undersized company of a limited budget, and some actors don’t have the necessary experience to perform under unordinary conditions without falling out of character. This was clarified between us during our last meeting.”
“Well, I would truly appreciate it if you could find some time in your schedule and adapt to the circumstances. The reimbursement would naturally be multiplied beyond the original agreement. We value company morale above all else, and would regularly employ your services.”
“Are there any further instructions about modifications in the intended script, that I might retrieve somewhere? Preferably with some additional information about the arrangement in your current housing?”
“Of course. I have a knowledgeable associate, who originally informed me about your services. He has a somewhat uncouth demeanour, but do not let this sway your feelings. He is a craftsman, a professional well-used to discretion, and will attempt to reach you in the near future.“
“I will certainly evaluate it, but cannot promise anything. It may well be beyond our capabilities.”
“I have the utmost faith in you, and trust that the noteworthy complimentary information and financed extra resources will be put to good use.”
“We will see what we can manage.”

Nabiki shut down the connection. (Hmm… He’s actually desperate enough to grant me free access to all available information about this enchantment as goodwill collateral, and grants me an arcane consultant as an extra bonus. The bumbler turns useful after all… Though it’s not like mercie-poo can climb in the hierarchy with a record of petty street crime… The payoff likely far exceeds the warranted risks and effort…. Plausible deniability required, but potential blackmail problem if it’s not convincing…) 
She mulled things over for a few seconds. (Well, I doubt this could possibly tweak the odds enough to succeed, and even then I wouldn’t have high hopes given the security of that place, but I don’t want to look over my shoulder the rest of my life. The assistant and me give it a serious shot, check predicted success-rate prospects, and will inevitably reach zero unless he’s moved somewhere else. End of problem… But that handyman sounds like just what the doctor ordered, probably a far more beneficial asset given the right… *shudder* ‘incentives’. It didn’t sound like he has much success on that front, much less free pickings…)
She fought down the queasy feeling in her throat. It wasn’t remotely like her to pull out, but the benefits could be enormous... (All right, so it won’t be remotely pleasant, but it may become a very irregular necessary sacrifice, to keep an invaluable human resource safely under my thumb. I must give him some offer others can’t match, to breed long-time absolute loyalty.)

The phone rang again. (What is it now? Does he have to ask mama for every little thing?) “Yes?”
“…”
“Oh, hi! Yes, he told me. You have quite the reputation as an visionary and connoisseur.”
“…”
“Yes, I heard. I’m sincerely impressed that you managed to notice me. It’s truly amazing. I have so much to learn from you. Maybe you could show me some of your work?”
“…”
“I’m really looking forward to meeting you too. I think we are going to become the very best of friends…” (Gag raised to the power of 4! I dearly hope it’s possible to put simulacrums to auto-setting… Think, dammit! Something else…) She snapped her fingers. (Those age-adjusting mushrooms the piggy stumbled upon! The ones I grew for a rainy day wouldn’t keep for long, and baby sis obviously botched her crop, but the broadened inventory should give me a shot at tracking down the habitat…)

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Ryoga sat staring at the portable board placed at the lawn next to the Unryuu farm, unconsciously patting Shirokuro, his central line-partitioned, half-white/half-black, vaguely chessboard-reminiscent dog, surrounded by her playing, nearly full-grown puppies. He thought hard, quickly placed mental 100-ton weights on annoying images of Ranma, Ryuu, and Ukyo splitting their sides and hammering on the floor, and focused again. He would get a hold of this eventually... He was supposedly a prodigy in the martial arts, and this was sort of related wasn’t it? He moved a black board piece, claiming four others for himself. A white marker drifted freely in the air, touched down and claimed twelve. The replacements similarly seemingly substituted themselves. So what if she always trounced him bad at Go? At least they were doing something beyond ‘playing hide-and-seek’. She had been a bit more accommodating after he came back from the fight last week, even
 sitting down in front of him for once instead of hovering aloof, and he had caught glimpses of something starry in her eyes. Women were very strange. Most of them were wise, and kind, and soft, and smooth, and pretty, and smelled nice, but still very perplexing. He moved another, getting six this time.

A shadow moved over the ground. Ryoga looked up. Right above there was a single, overhanging dark cloud in an otherwise open sky, blotting a few hundred metres wide area surrounding the house. A light rain began to fall. He was glad that he always brought one of his trusty, unnaturally dense, bamboo combat-umbrellas, even if he didn’t use them much for fighting anymore. They were too slow. Some leaves began to stir as little wafts pushed them to the side. Ryoga picked up the game in his free hand, and walked towards the porch to seek refuge before the wind would make the downpour nearly impossible to avoid.
Holly giggled. Giggled! “Silly husband. Must learn better shield, not just flash. I help.” She grasped his hand, and took control of the flows. He didn’t know that she could do that, synchronise yes, take it no, but the water refrained from touching his skin. Her hand was warm despite the cold, and very small. He hadn’t noticed before.

This had turned up at suspiciously sudden notice, without any hints beyond widespread sunshine in the local weather forecast. He glanced at the ornate beauty. “You’re not the one setting this up, are you?”
She shook her head. “No husband. It is too hard, too many patterns. Would take hours if lucky, probably days.”

The breeze rose into a gale. The lightning struck accompanied by a resounding clap, an aged pine left split and ashen in its wake. In the centre of the smouldering but quickly doused scorched earth, a similarly elderly man came into sight, heavily wrinkled and leaning against a long ornamented wooden rod that towered above a slightly crouched back, but tall, sinewy, and with lively eyes in spite of his old age. His head was bald and entirely clean-shaven, save for a ceremonial white braid stemming from the back of his skull, and a long thin moustache, swaying freely beneath his chin as the curls drifted in the wind. He was clad in soft loose silk fabric patterned after green and golden scales, and a Yin/Yang symbol adorned the centre of his chest. His pupils were slits embedded in crimson upon glossy white. “Hello student. Hello my child.”

“Grandfather Wan!” Hao Li happily rushed forward and brusquely embraced the sprightly senior.
Loh Zhang Da Shi Wan laughed. “Careful child. I’m not so young anymore, and only a distant uncle at best.”
Ryoga shook off the surprise. “Snake-geezer, why do you call Holly a child? She’s over 450 years old!”
Loh Wan gently loosened the dragon princess’ grip, and inquiringly inspected her from head to toe. “Yes… my little girl seems to be growing up…”
Hao Li blushed.
Ryoga gawked, for two individual reasons.
“It is just her way.” Rowan had spoken without turning.

The Snake-Lord continued, still facing his protégé. “So are you all right? Do you enjoy yourself here?”
Hao Li humbly bowed in gratitude for the concern. “Yes master. This is a strange world, but I take pleasure in cultivating the patterns and dancing with the pink flowers.”
Loh Wan sagely nodded. “You were always an artisan and voyager at heart.”
The Go board burst into splinters in Ryoga’s fist.
Loh Wan raised a disapproving eyebrow. “Clumsy as ever I see.” The elder sighed. “I have never seen the like in power and raw talent, but so little imagination... I hope that your betrothed will be able to change this.”
Ryoga groaned. Being called an idiot at the drop of a hat was getting old, by Sensei Rowan no less.
Hao Li flared up. “He faced Lao Zi Ge! Husband can do anything!”

Ryoga frowned. He only had a vague idea of what she was talking about. Holly could offer unpredictable cryptic hints of perception at the drop of a hat without any discernible sources or additional explanations. This was certainly the first time she mentioned anything beyond that send-off whisper. She told him what she felt he needed to be told like a good little boy… wonderful. The emotional outbursts were even less decipherable. She was generally composed enough to send him to die without flinching, while randomly turning delighted or protective. One or the other he could understand, but not both at a time. It was too complex for him.

The grandmaster of the Shokei Fist stared in utter shock. “You confronted the Bing Huang Ma Luan, the Turmoil and Chaos of War, and somehow remain among the living? I cannot fathom what quirk of fate could possibly have made this achievable, but am grateful.” He shook his head. “However, I am afraid this may not last for a very long time...”
The elder straightened with some support from his cane. “This isn’t a social visit, pleasant as it may be. I herald grave portents.”
Ryoga wasn’t particularly surprised. “I figured, but I thought you followed 200-year schedule or so and weren’t in a hurry?”
Loh Wan nodded. “Indeed, but the Long Huang, the Dragon King, does not trust you, and will not accept any chances of unexpected passing. You are part of the clan, and I fear that it is far too late regardless of compliance… The Dynasty shall claim its due. ”
“Why don’t you just challenge him for the throne?”
Rowan looked baffled, but then began to laugh. “Student, you do not know our ways. The share of cold serpent-blood in me is nearly pure, and the dragon too thin to compare with the King’s. One outweighs the other and the stronger bloodline prevails. I am merely a humble teacher in the ways, for the pureblooded to consult. Thus has it ever been for wyverns and wyrms, thus may it still remain for some time to come.” Loh Wan sighed. “It is hard to change with such an ancient legacy miring us in its patterns, but it represents history, and there is something to be said for that… So little is remaining since Mao burned it all...” He made a wry smile. “There is also the small matter of my age.”

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Nabiki pumped a hand into the air. “Woo! Woo! Go get him tiger!” 
Ranma only reacted with an annoyed frown. 
Well, that was a downer. She had lots of fun with that cheer before she ‘cured’ him. (How about this then?)
Ten upright lionesses with pom-poms and cheerleader uniforms made another try. “Claw him! Bite him! Rah! Rah! Rah!”
Ranma ignored her and pounced towards the edge of the displacement-pocket.

Ryoga ponderingly walked in a small circle near the edge of the post-apocalyptic wreckage-zone, as Ryuu tended to call it. Holly knew where to pick him up if he didn’t move about, and she could discern his general whereabouts anyway. He needed to think up a plan of action, speaking out loud for himself. “Ok, what to do now? D-d-do th-th-th-that with her to settle the d-deal?” He turned bright red at the first option. “B-b-b-but w-w-we b-barely kn-know each other, and A-A-Akari wouldn’t like it at a-all…” He wasn’t quite satisfied with that rationalisation. If Akari got hurt that would be far worse, but that meant he had to lose her anyway! There was no way out! He must be strong for her sake… Strong! All that mattered was that she was kept safe! Strong! He began to wail in desperation. “Oh Akaaaari!” 

He recalled what Grandmaster Rowan had said, and began to think again. Herb… Ryoga spat on the ground. Herb… may he be devoured by rabies-stricken beavers… Herb… may he be used as custard-pie target-practice for neophyte clowns… Herb… may he be poisoned from overeating fermented herrings… Herb would order him liquidated anyway. They truly loathed each other, it was as simple as that, and the latter used the delay as a formal excuse to get around the regulations in these matters. He was accused of betraying his part of the ‘deal’, which was Herb’s way of saying “Obey or everyone you know dies. If you do I will let my personal teacher ‘probe your potential’ for a few months, to ascertain that you are not a wasted effort.” Great ‘deal’. Foisting a lot of unwanted obligations on him and loosening all restraints on his chi-generation, which ‘somehow’ turned out to be far greater than manageable for any non-grandmaster. He
 just bet that Mister “We speak in plural. Aren’t we neat?” was ‘astonished’ by that ‘revelation’… putting him in constant danger of blowing up everything around him, potentially eventually burning him out, and given that he sincerely doubted Happosai would be so helpful, it ‘conveniently’ made him dependent on Holly to survive. Ha-ha… your humour sucks.

He had to dedicate half his waking time to alternate between harmonising the flows with Holly’s assistance, learning to safely control and focus a certain growing amount through intense exercise, and using up enough through recurrent giant exhausts, also channelled when safely linked. Her finesse and precision was unbelievable, eclipsing even Herb’s, and she was seriously strong and tough, despite not being trained in strictly combat-oriented usage of her talents. Apparently proper Musk ladies-in-waiting weren’t supposed to soil their fists. She even tutored him to make better use of his own. He was very grateful for the help, and she was beautiful, courteous, elegant and feminine. He would have found her enchanting if he simply saw her in a restaurant. But that was more than compensated by the fact that her tribe, culture and particularly her stupid brother caused the entire situation to start with, just to use him as unwilling breeding stock for
 a reinforced characteristic chi-potential in the dragon-blood. 

He could also never go anywhere without her tracking and following him around after at most an hour. It helped him not to get lost for weeks at a time, he got that, and Akari liked that he was more around the house. He had even been able to resume his studies, was able to see his dogs more frequently, and the sumo-pigs were kind of fun, but he had no independence anymore. He was shackled to this place unless he brought a nanny, and even if he somehow got some room for himself it didn’t take long until he somehow got drenched, his clothes were destroyed, pedestrians were fleeing, and armed forces tried to bring him into a zoo. When he turned into a piglet the wilderness was very dangerous, but as a tiger he couldn’t blend in anywhere, making it harder to use the still vastly enhanced sense of smell to at least occasionally go in the right direction. It was the only thing he used to be able to remotely rely on. At least he was pushing to get better at
 using the tracking device, and Akari could use it to find him. 

There was also the little fact that a large part of Holly’s nature was a warfare-romanticising, almost 500-year-old, lunatic dragon-hybrid, from an ancient small warrior-dynasty with savage, archaic, oddball or at least outmoded, thousand-year-old values that he found thoroughly overbearing, and he was permanently stuck with her. She had already waited for more than four centuries, so there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that she would still serenely hover outside his window when he was an old man in 300 years, as unflappable as ever. She was like an unstoppable stalker. Shampoo, Kodachi, Kuno and Mousse put together had nothing on her. Gah! 

Though he had to admit that she wasn’t as unnerving to be around anymore. They had actually begun to do some things together except for fighting and treatment. Playing Go, walking through the city with Akari, and she kept track that nobody was around when they went for a swim. She even took them flying once. That had been the best thing he’d done in years. He just didn’t like to be forced to suffer people and be dependent on them, especially the last part, even if they might have got along fine otherwise.

Never mind. Akari had to be kept safe. He would send her and her grandfather to their country-house, and face this himself. Herb would probably only see a point in killing them if he was still alive… 

He suddenly sensed an extremely nearby hostile presence and instinctively lashed out with an unconscious backhand swing at the very last instant.

Ranma made a sizeable crater in the mountainside. If the rock had been sentient it might have found the constant violent erosion rather repetitive at this point. Thankfully it was not, and things would have been pretty slow unless a settlement was created, a road or mine was built, two continental plates had a bar fight, or the occasional ice age glacier came by for a chat.
Ryoga was relieved. “Oh, it’s just you.“ 
Ranma remained excited. The Umisen-ken should cloak his battle-aura, his intent, from any adversaries, but so what? He was in a great mood, and wanted to play. Then he could lie in the sun with some fish and a cup of milk. “’Just me’ my butt! Things have changed around!” He leapt straight at Ryoga, fingers poised like animal claws.
Ryoga stepped to the side, allowing his rival to land right beside him. Not that it made any difference. The latter kept bouncing around, landing on all fours just to make unceasing attempts to unleash another barrage of finger swipes whenever his opponent ducked. Ryoga thought that he swerved around, or blocked almost all of them, but noted that Ranma landed many blows through his guard, or rather without needing to land them. “Yeah, you’ve turned a little bit faster, and can do some pressure-strike tricks, but Ryuu does it much better.” 
“Better than this too?” Ranma jumped above Ryoga’s head, somersaulted in the air and got in position.
Ryoga didn’t bother to move two steps to the side. He was a bit curious about what his opponent would opt to do. 
“White Cat-Venom Reliable Fist!” Ranma applied over 1000 blows along the nerve centres of Ryoga’s back. The force doubled by additional air-pressure and focused pointed fingers.
He noiselessly landed on the ground, a single big toe cushioning the impact. Hands held curved before his face like a cat sharpening its claws. “Ryuu had a problem with that one even in its original mode, and I’ve combined it.” He noticed with some disappointment that his opponent had swayed a little, but didn’t fall, nor displayed the slightest discomfort.
Ryoga felt a bit revitalised. “That was pretty good, dumb name, but pretty good. You’re making progress just like old times.”
Ranma was undeterred. He leapt into the shrubbery, used the Umisen-ken to cloak his presence again, waited until the hunter turned confused, and tried again. This time the jerk wouldn’t be steeled for it. 
He was struck in mid-leap by what felt like a wall of reinforced bedrock, and fell to the ground.

Ryoga offered him a hand up. “Better luck next time. My dairyokkan is much sharper than yours, and I’m better at homing in on the direction of a danger nowadays. It doesn’t work so well when you use that move, but if I stretch out a tiny bit of aura I get a warning when you enter the zone, and then it’s just a regular shockwave expansion. Simple trick, but pretty useful if an elite assassin catches you asleep.”
Ranma bounced up by himself. He was annoyed, both by Ryoga and because he couldn’t even bother to stay annoyed when the guy he was fighting cheered for him, even if it was mostly to get a proper sparring-partner, which annoyed him even more. That created an interesting loop. He settled for being annoyed with himself, and then let go, since he couldn’t bother to concentrate. Images of milk, fish, comfy pillows, and balls of yarn kept appearing in his head. “Yeah, yeah. It’s all about getting better at using what we already have at this point. There are no quick fixes to learn something entirely new beyond developing the basics stuff that we have a talent for, just many years of hard training for every single thing. I worked with that.”

He assumed his upright ‘cat-stance’. “Just let me try something. This one is going to bring you down. Period.” His aura manifested as a thin azure blaze, and funnelled its chi into a golden flow enfolding his extended fingers, bright confidence with an arctic touch. He spun his hands at supersonic speed, modulating his blast cadence into a pattern of thin glowing streams. Slicing ice-cold winds of twofold pressure focused into piercing whips.
Ryoga initially allowed his automatic chi-enforcement defence… no actual damage so far. He pushed it down to his breaking point-training level to test. (Ouch!) He was struck hard right through a throng of thick trunks, receiving several minor cuts and bruises from the assault. 
Ranma approached leaping crossways between the trees, and touched down on all four paws. “Ha! Told you!”
Ryoga pulled out a few loose twigs from his hair. “Yeah, but Ryuu can still do it a bit better when he really tries. Find a way to sneak in that stunt you did last time to do a whirlwind with streams of ‘razor-pressure’ or whatever you will call it, and you might get me. Anyway, since you came by… I’m calling in a favour. I think I need some help.”

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Everything had mostly returned to everyday routine, same old, same old. Ryuu wasn’t even a proper officer yet, but still had to take responsibility and work occasional double-shifts to bring the elite enforcement operatives to the next level, or at least the chi-users, the espers just had to strain themselves further and learn precision in combat sessions. A necessary united effort to compensate for loosing their greatest asset. “Cultivation time to grow as an organisation” as Taikio, bless him, would have said it, wasn’t a luxury they could afford anymore. 

Simultaneously he was partnering with Kiyoko of all people, ‘showing her the ropes’ or whatever he was supposed to do with her. He couldn’t imagine anyone less suited for fieldwork, but they needed a rune-soldier… or rune-peacekeeper, whichever the case may currently be. And it was pretty funny to watch her try to serenely talking the perps into peacefully giving up or trying a different path in life, while they ineffectually hailed at her to no avail whatsoever. If they were distracted or exasperated that made his job easier, and he liked the kindly little psychic/empath. 

Most perplexingly she actually had a decent success ratio. A few of her counselling victims sincerely applied for prison rehabilitation programs, with her giving them an occasional encouraging visit, or even gave up information due to a suddenly aching conscience. He supposed all hope might not be lost yet for the world… Naah. 

Best of all, after bringing a formal complaint of “consistently detrimental distractions” against Hayato, he had managed to shove the latter as a contact for Ayumu instead. Ryuu sincerely hoped that they would drive each other mad instead of him, and going by the discussion at the restaurant table behind his own at least one of them was succeeding. Hayato had actually left his office, strange as it may sound. A modicum of daily exercise was one of the new regulations.

Ayumu calmly took a sip of camomile tea. “I follow the path of meaningful actions. If it feels right, it is right, and thus there I go.” 
Hayato was making wild gestures. His face was weary. “But yesterday you drew a banana! On a wall! And then you started to repeatedly redraw it to gradually unpeel and get eaten! Why? At least tell me why? Oy mean you can apparently do these nutty popular ‘science’ quantum-theory observation odds-adjustments consciously, with all those psychedelic or hidden ‘pattern circuits’ of yours that you keep distributing en masse through any table-tissue-companies or music CD-cover designers that accept your work…”
Hayato’s hand trembled slightly as he drank from his fourth inky cup of coffee. “Those at least have some diffuse flow-theory vibe intent, “charged up and anchored by so many people touching them” and “adding complexity to your greater weave to make it self-conscious”. That makes absolutely no sense, but Oy don’t argue with the results, and at least you inform me about whatever it is that you’re trying to do, but this “Oy follow the path” stuff makes no sense to you either! How the heck am Oy supposed to work with that?”
A rickety Chiquita-truck went by, dropping a cluster into Ayumu’s lap. He didn’t show the least sign of surprise.
Hayato gave off an exasperated grunt. His eyes were sunken. “Did you plan that?”
Ayumu snapped loose a banana and started to eat it. “No, but it felt right, and yesterday I was satisfied, but now I was hungry, and I had forgot to bring much money, and soon I am satisfied again. All is well.”
Hayato rested his face against the table, arms held behind his neck. “Oy really want to strangle you right now.”
Ayumu patted him on the shoulder in a fatherly manner. “Just have faith in the purpose. Do you want a banana?”
“Oy hate you… Oy truly hate you.”
Ryuu stretched out his arms to work out some kinks, basking in the cloudless sunlight. Aaah! Life was good.

The only setback had been when an overenthusiastic wannabe revolutionary workgroup had decided that the time was right to unveil their cross-field ‘technomage’ construct, a creepy little bugger of sickly pale skin interwoven with ever-shifting circuitry. Just standing unmoving, staring with distant sterile eyes, evaluating input, dissecting flaws, and spinning probabilities at the fraction of a second, weaving spell-sigils at a rate far beyond mere human capacity. The really scary part was that someone had supposedly volunteered for the procedure.

When the unfortunate researchers activated it on for a demonstration, they had been instantly surrounded by iridescent streams of elegant calligraphy, and various segments of their bodies had, according to the analysis, among other things, simultaneously sported large bulbous growths, tried to take root, twisted back and forth into distorted mixtures of mythological animals, flied off as a swarm of colourful butterflies, detonated in sparkly symmetry as blood components recombined into nitro-glycerine, had their brains rendered insensate by a sadistically potent mixtures of hard drugs, nearly every nerve cell lit on fire for optimised pain, and spewed out who-knows-what from a jumble of conflicting other-dimensional nexus-pockets that had opened up in their stomachs. All the while speaking in tongues, as far as analysis could tell, simply to declare praises and unwavering loyalty to a cherished sack of potatoes. 

If the horror hadn't been preset for a 5-second runtime, with all influences instantly unwoven, and promptly committed suicide by turning into a vase of pink flowers, kami knows if the world had been left around in workable condition. Needless to say nobody felt particularly motivated to resume the research. 

Hitomi had wistfully grumbled that if the brats hadn't been so fixated on inserting creative methods of maiming, torture, and destruction, they might have strictly uploaded medical procedures and harmless healing enchantments to craft the greatest doctor known to man, which had been her original objection, but that none of them ever listened to her, and then went back to her mounting workload.

The phone rang, Ryuu’s private one for once. He checked the listed caller name. “Yo dumb-ass. What’s up? Trouble in paradise?”
“…”
“Seriously? Oh what the heck, why not? I suppose I owe you one for the other day, even if you botched that one up big time. Big bro is going to bail you out as usual.”
“…”
“Nah, it is no big deal. There’s no free lunch. I owe you one, you owe me one, and we’ll keep trading… Hang on for a moment. I’ll check something up.” 
Ryuu put the phone on hold, reconsidered for a few seconds, and opted for another path. Normally he’d have cut the silly, idiot savant, lump of power a break. It actually wasn’t virgin-boy’s fault last time around, and he was almost killed in the attempt, so this really made them about even, but Ryuu didn’t need to admit that, and his unit was in a jam…besides, he probably did the indecisive foul-up a favour. 
He picked it up again. “Actually scratch that, if I risk my neck for you here and now, I want some upfront capital here and now. You give your word to come work for the unit in the same function as myself. I’m short on a partner, and the force needs some power. I think you’ll like it, but if it doesn’t work out or I can’t keep track before you wander off to Kyoto, you get to call it off after a trial run.”
“…”
“You , study? I almost thought you were illiterate? All right, it seems like a waste of time, but whatever floats your boat. I don’t think you need any combat training anyway. Just sit with your books until we find some monster to went on.”
“…”
“Yeah, a 300-year lifespan sure helps for catching up. So do I have your word, and I’m talking Giri, or what?”
“…”
“Good enough for me. We’ll set up some area where you can let loose not to overload, and the blood & flowers-loon, or some seeing-eye sumo pork-chops can tag along if you want. It sure makes my job easier.”
“…”
“Yeah, call me when it’s time, but give a few hours head-start to be on the safe side.” He put aside the phone. (Well, what do you know? Little pebbles striking loose a boulder. Maybe there’s something to Ayumu’s babble after all?)

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Hao Li picked cherries from the trees in her grove, meticulously pruning branches that intruded on the harmony of her pattern, using what resembled thin, translucent razors protruding from her fingers. 
Ryoga gazed at the graceful lady, as she floated around the glade. It had been a few days since Rowan’s visit, and Akari had been safely stowed away together with their dogs and pigs. “I know that look. You want to say something.”
She inhaled the aroma from a few remaining Sato Zakura blossoms that had not yet born fruit, and spoke in passing, as if peacefully remarking on the pleasant weather. “Younger brother is coming husband.”
Ryoga didn’t bother to ask how she knew. She just did, as usual, and it wasn’t like she would tell him anyway. 
“Strong ether… influence… making waves… fractals… patterns… osmosis… recognition… characteristic… very angry.” The speech-patterns of somebody who had absorbed a very great quantity of language in a very short time, but hadn’t given the mould much time to cool into quality of structure yet, alternately simply considered the filler details a waste of time, as long as she knew the intention and anyone who mattered would bother to listen up, or a little bit of both. 
Hao Li unmindfully carried on moulding her clay.
Well, what do you know? She did, sort of, and he wasn’t sure what some of it meant, but still… Ryoga picked up his cellphone and dialled 3 separate listed numbers in rapid order. She had evidently not used her free time for idle pursuits.

Mu Zhi walked towards the entrance at the Cat Cafe, unsuccessfully pretending not to notice the waitress who was cleaning up after the daily closure.
Shan Pu didn’t find his recent pouting-steak remotely becoming, but then he was a blight to look at no matter the mood. “Where you going stupid Mousse? You try part-time work again? I no make dishes by self.” 
Mu Zhi sniffed. “If you must know, some people actually put great value to my talents.”
Shan Pu chuckled. “What talents that be? Fall down sinkhole? Make like clown? Try cut bread with giant fork? Put pepper in cake instead sugar? Walk at lamppost and moving car? Have date together cold statue? Talk to mirror? Fly north at winter, and be laugh of other birds? Taste good in apple-sauce?”
Mu Zhi turned around, and crashed his head into a ceiling lantern. He vainly tried to recover composure, but was unsettled by Shan Pu’s snigger. “Some people think that I am the only thing that can save them from an army, and they didn’t call you.”
Shan Pu didn’t laugh anymore. “What you saying? Stupid Mousse not Shampoo? They mad? War when he see no difference helper obstacle?”
She threw away her apron, quickly ran into her room upstairs, and returned with a sword, spear, hunting bow and arrows strapped to her back. Grasping the handles of two massive, over 100-kilograms, spherical metal cudgels with a single hand, casually leaning them against her shoulder like they were thin air balloons, and helium at that. “Shampoo show foolish persons she much, much better catch.” 
Mousse had walked into a table, and was searching for his overly thick bottle-glasses.
“They on head stupid! Get contact lenses!” She pushed them down from Mu Zhi’s brow, and dragged him out by his ear.

“You’re doing what?!” Nabiki was perplexed. (How asinine can anyone get? Ever heard of the “I’m not stupid, I’m not expendable, and I’m not going” proverb? …I think that’s admirably principled. No I don’t! What’s wrong with me?)
Ranma gave a simple self-evident answer. “I’m paying off my mortgage. He’s saved Akane or me a few more times than I’ve been able to return yet. It’s Giri, and you’re not going to let her hear of this. She’s way too brave to stay out of it.” End of discussion
(Oh no. I’m not giving up an investment that easily. He’s not throwing away his life on my watch) “Look sweetie, just let me negotiate with these guys, or call the army to handle it.” 
Naturally the army wouldn’t care in the least about a private matter, and Japanese authorities almost uniformly tended to let criminal organisations handle themselves as long as they didn’t shoot bystanders in gang-wars, or overtly stole any visible physical objects. Jaywalkers and suspicious-looking foreigners, meaning nearly all of them, were generally considered a more prioritised focus. Large-scale corruption, enforcement, protection rackets, swindling, corporate crimes, blackmail and intimidation were usually ignored as long as they didn’t make an blatant disruptive ruckus, which recurrently lead to trying to shame or rather disturb them, through car-honking and such, instead of arrests. The Wa, or rigid systematic order and immaculate public appearance, was all that mattered. Though she only needed to stall him for a few hours and feign distress when it ‘didn’t work out’. Then some of his problematic little chaos-factor friends would
 very conveniently permanently get out of her face as an extra serving, and she would be there to comfort him. More of those dishes please.
Ranma shook his head. “Herb isn’t exactly known for meeting anyone halfway, and the police always let us handle things between ourselves if we keep it down.”
(And choosing a populated setting to force them to get involved, claim it’s a terrorist cell, and at least get a reward or national fame for the trouble, didn’t strike my idiot boyfriend? Well, if he necessarily has to do this) “Honey, let’s all take a deep breath, calm down, and not be hasty. How about that I let a dummy impersonate Holly and set them up for a trap?”
“It won’t work. Herb’s range is too wide. He’s probably sensitive to these things.”
(‘Sensitive’ in the way Ukyo and maybe Taro are I’ll bet) “What about the ESP?”
“It’s more hands-on, and I’ve heard that lots of officers and bureaucrats pretty much hate them for it, but this type of stuff is strictly personal-level. No bystanders involved.”
(Oh-ho) “What about Akari?” (Gotcha)
Ranma froze up. He hadn’t thought of that. He called Ryoga. “Hey clueless, just checking, but is Akari put somewhere safe?”
He put the cell phone down. “It’s all right. He shipped her, the grandfather, and the pets off to a family farm in Kyoto several days ago.”
(No! It’s not ‘all right’, you idiot! You naive… stupid… infuriating… clueless… martyring-enthusiastic… starry-eyed… toothache- and diabetes-inducing… idiot! Nice guys don’t just finish last! They end up dead, raped, disillusioned, bankrupt, lonely, sickly, heckled, unfulfilled, bitter, hollow, and broken!) Nabiki gestured to the skies in vain exasperation, then resignedly covered her eyes with a hand and used the remaining to discourteously wave him off. “Go away... Just go... I really don’t know what to do with you…” She needed recreation, suckers to outsmart, lavish shopping, and classy drinks. Hopefully some trendy club had a show going. She wouldn’t grant him the pleasure of staying home worrying for his sake.

Ryuu checked the 5-minutes old sms on the display. He grinned, activated the blinkers on the roof, and drummed his fingers in a marching rhythm to the side, using one hand to leisurely steer the wheel, as his car accelerated through the streets of Tokyo. Dum-du-du-du-du-dum-du-du-du-du-dum-du-du-du-du-dum. Showtime. 

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Shan Pu snorted. “This who respect Mousse talent? Now make sense. Lost pork boy so foolish is not compliment. Is insult!” She nodded knowingly.
She inquisitively looked at the odd young woman in the air above her head. For some reason the latter reminded her of a village elder. “You there silly pig, who this?” She pointed upwards.
Ryoga didn’t have much patience for pushy warrior-women. His experience with Ukyo had at least taught him that. “Ask her yourself,” he muttered.
Shan Pu didn’t have much success on that front. She eventually decided that feigning an attack might at least rouse some attention, and leapt into the air. She was gently but resolutely decelerated and put back to her place on the ground by what felt like an almost solid barrier of air. This was curious, the strange woman seemed to be a force to be reckoned with, yet didn’t outright attempt to defeat her. It was possible that this was simply deemed as the wrong time, but she might also be informed about the Joketsuzoku regulation that a warrior should hunt down and kill any outside woman that defeated her. Very curious, but respecting their traditions was honourable behaviour, even if Shan Pu mostly ignored them whenever it didn’t seem urgent, useful or worth the effort, at least while still stuck in this peculiar city. It could be interesting to get to know and maybe learn from her.
“He is approaching to meet us husband.”
Shan Pu frowned. Now the lady decided to talk, and it didn’t look like she had moved her lips, just sound carried by the wind? What was this husband business? Was this yet another interfering obstacle for her groom? She glanced to the side. No he didn’t seem interested, or at least was focused on something else, but he usually didn’t show much interest for any of his paramours…

“If everyone has finished clowning around, it’s probably a good idea to focus here.” 
That was the manly boy in green- and black-speckled trousers. Shan Pu would have found him quite attractive, if not for the brash attitude. It might turn him a little too hard to control, and he had a ‘law’ badge on his chest. She did not like people who might try to force her into accommodating to their conventions. Adapting by personal choice of expediency was an entirely different matter.

Stupid Mu Zhi paid attention to something other than herself for once. It was a nice change… He had been disappearing somewhere for the last 2 or 3 months… (Maybe the woman is his lover? He would finally leave me alone!) She sighed. No, too good to be true. It was probably just the policeman. The lady looked like someone who should have reasonably good taste, but the matter would be investigated, and she would regret any intentions to take what was not hers. Shan Pu tensed up. Something was rustling and approaching in the forest. She saw a regal male stepping out. He looked rather similar to the flying girl.

Ryoga focused to keep looking in the same direction. This was not a good time to lose sight of his surroundings. The draconian butt-pain had strode out alone into the meadow… His soldiers obviously waited behind concealed by the woods, but his two bodyguards almost always followed at his side... Ryoga caught something tight in his throat. “Where’s Lime?”
Hao Huang Bu shrugged. “Li Me refused to follow. He did not want to dispose of an oath-brother.”
Ryoga remained tense. “What did you do to him?”
Herb seemed faintly surprised. “Why, nothing of course. Li Me has served us faithfully since we were children; we simply struck him unconscious through a lengthy bombardment to make an example. It would be a different matter if we had actual need for him. Then he would be handled as befitting a traitor to the throne.”
“You’re a really giving guy.” Ryoga spat out.

Hao Huang Bu ignored him and turned his head slightly to the side, directly facing the latter’s most noteworthy companion. “We owe a debt of one life. Resist us, and we will spare you once. Do not raise your hand and we will let you select one to go free, with certain…” He meaningfully glanced towards Ryoga. “…Exceptions.”
Ryuu’s eyes widened. “You actually saved this guy? Good call there, fem-boy. No worries. No trouble at all.”
Ranma shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. He was a worthy opponent, too much for me head-on, even if he was a vicious bastard. I thought it would be a waste to just let him die.”
Ryoga stepped forward. “It’s me that you want. Let’s settle this like men.”
Herb looked amused. “But why in the world would we want to allow an adversary to select the battleground? We well know the futility of facing you directly by ourselves.” He gave an unpleasant smile, and cordially gestured with both hands to the right. “We brought some help.” 12 large warriors in their prime or early middle age, and with lean muscular builds similar to Lime’s, walked into the meadow, seasoned grim faces utterly devoid of good humour, and clad in tiger-striped uncouth hunting garbs.
Hao Li’s resolute composure crumbled like a house of cards. “Brother, no! Let him be! Please! Grandmaster-Elder Loh Wan would not approve!”
Hao Huang Bu’s head snapped to the side. “Woman, know your place! You have shamed us immensely! A stain in the eyes of Great Chien Tang and the four hosts! Do not dishonour yourself further, and hold your tongue. This is a matter amongst men.”
Hao Li gasped and shrank back as if struck with the world itself. She humbly bowed, shivering all the while. “Forgive me honoured Emperor-brother. I have erred.”
The dragon king calmly recommenced. “The tribute must be paid. We have need for the seed of the designated. He has been unwilling to impart it, so we will salvage it from his corpse and infuse it into the female.”
Ryuu gaped. “I did not just hear that.”

Shan Pu darted forward, massive chúi in each fist. “Arrogant male should learn respect for strong womans!”
Hao Huang Bu leisurely disarmed and grabbed her by the jugular with a single hand, raised her into the air at arm’s length, and squeezed. She vainly struggled to break his grip. “Insolence! This is what happens in this fleeting decadent epoch! We are anticipatory to await its passing, and see nature returns to its proper order.”
Shan Pu vainly gasped for air as Hao Huang Bu’s fist trembled in outrage.
Mu Zhi’s face contorted into a distorted grimace, the visage of a berserk oni. He wordlessly accelerated. 
Hao Huang Bu sneered in contempt. “Be gone insect!“ He didn’t bother to release the hold and offhandedly waved his free arm, unleashing a Ryuu Zan-ha barrage of shimmering essence-razors, expecting immediate demise from the unworthy upstart, and instantly disregarding the entire matter.
They cut deep into Mu Zhi’s flesh. A rib immediately slashed right through with a damaged lung underneath, a tendon, a cheek, a ligament, an upper arm, and a side of the stomach... He didn’t notice.
His Imperial Sovereign Majesty the Dragon King Hao Huang Long Bu was skewered through the heart by an oversized common hayfork, with a look of utter astonishment in his face. 
A terror quickly grew in his mind, greatly eclipsing his personal hazard. His eyes fixated on his older sister… then dilated in shock. (No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no………………) His eyes went blank and rolled upwards, as he crumpled to the ground.

Shan Pu had turned bright red. She could not tear free from the rigor-mortis dead man’s grip.
Ryuu had reacted quicker than the others, and grunted as he strained for success, achieving it in time to save Shampoo’s life. She fell down, to rest unconscious on the soil. He glanced towards the collapsed Mousse. “I actually feel a bit bad for him. She won’t even offer this a thought tomorrow.”
Ranma ripped his red sweater to slices, and began to bandage Mousse’s wounds. “He’s as hardy as I am. He’ll be fine in a few days, maybe a week. Probably some scars though.”
Ryoga was engaged in a mutual angry staring contest with the disarrayed warriors, threateningly clutching an open water bottle. “Do you want to make something of it?” 

It was an impotent threat. Ryoga well knew that he was a match for roughly 4-5 of them at once if he went all-out… maybe 6 if he was lucky and in tiger-mode. They could withstand ridiculous amounts of damage, and, unless he unshackled all hampers, they were all at least 2 times stronger than his regular human state. His chi was great enough to push him past them and then some for brief intervals, but it was very dangerous beyond that. Defence could be focused slightly outside the body, so that wasn’t nearly as strenuous. Ranma and Ryuu would be pressed to wear down just one each, but probably had a small edge, and they could take two only if they were really clever, stalled them a great deal, and had lots of dumb luck… If Holly decided to pitch in, which was uncertain, that could be another two… a touch better odds. Shampoo might have a tiny chance to distract one long enough for someone else to handle it, but her defence had always sucked, and
 she’d probably take too long to awaken… If this blew up the very best case scenario would be that they all killed each other…
Dammit! Herb (may he be reincarnated as a chew-toy for incontinent dogs) had picked carefully. The ludicrous amounts of brute force guys were very well suited to handling him. The Wolf-, Snake-, Fox-, Warthog-, Panda-, and Monkey-clans wouldn’t have been strong enough to do any damage, and only the first two were more than a handful, as the rest had been deemed less adequate. One full-force aura expansion and it would have been over. Probably not the Bear-clan either, and they were pretty slow. The Tigers were the elite of the Shokei Fist, the sergeants of the rest. When en masse he wouldn’t get the chance to focus his blasts. They could withstand the wider beams, give each other enough time to recover, get through his guard, and excepting Lime this was the entire regiment.

The soldiers very uncomfortably turned towards Hao Li. “What say you Empress?” The captain who had spoken spat out the word like a heap of dung.
Hao Li was very bewildered. This was unprecedented. Since times immemorial there had always been a male heir. The women grew up in separate quarters, demurely awaiting the grace of infrequent visitations. This was the very last unthinkable resort, in case no fertile male successor, no matter how diluted the dragon-blood, was left alive, sometimes being forced to breed with a female cousin to strengthen the line. Their father had just passed away in a prolonged serious illness, and it had taken many, many tries to find suitable mates. Always with fatal results if their bodies even accepted the seed, and only twice lasting until childbirth… The necessary qualifications, or rather the necessary martial vitality of the concubine, had gradually waned in the general populace. More so throughout this modern era… The dragon-curse spring the ancestors had prepared for emergencies was long gone, destroyed a thousand years ago by frightened villagers. It could
 no longer jumpstart the legacy, as it had in the past… Master Loh Wan was far too old to procreate, and had never risked his lovers to die from the trauma… 
She looked at Ryoga with a twinkle of hope in her face. “Leave my consort and Monarch be.”
He disbelievingly stared back. “Are you crazy?”
She shook her head. “I am not. It is acceptable until a son is born.”
“And I can’t just order these bozos to disband and get regular jobs?”
“No husband. The legacy is ancient, 14000 years past, before first chronicles of man. The lineage will not break until extinguished, and is very rare link to history, to foundation. It has place somewhere.”
Ryoga sighed. “That’s just peachy… but I’m not going to move to rural China, no matter what you say.” He took a deep breath, but briefly paused as he got an idea. “All right people, listen up! Your new Emperor-man will stay here. All blood-debts of revenge are written off. Just leave this country, never come back, and go do whatever it is you’re doing. Fighting all day I suppose. Do your thing. Holly here will come and visit as my emissary, and if you have a problem you call her. I will speak through her, and when she’s gone Sensei Rowan handles things, all right?”
The warriors warily looked towards one another, then nodded, picked up the fallen sovereign, and departed en masse, leaping away at blinding speed.
Ryoga shrugged. “Chumps… So will that work out for you? You know the culture, you can push them around, make decisions, and whatever you come up with will be me, so it’s ok.”

Hao Li beamed. This was proper and acceptable. There were some very rare precedents. This was all right. She threw herself around Ryoga’s neck, and excitedly revolved them both as they floated through the air. “Honoured husband so good to Hao Li! So happy baby brother give such powerful groom! At least did something right!”
Ryoga frowned. “I don’t know about the groom bit…” She ignored him as usual. There wasn’t any talking with some people. They were just too pigheaded.

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Coming up:
Enlightenment is in the eyes of the beholder: The ultimate, immutable, and impossible choice.


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Change or cry: The final uncertain curtain


Nabiki was being very unsuccessful in her very atypical effort to get stinking smashed, to loosen up her sensibilities enough to dirty dance and fool around with complete strangers, in an attempt to get back at her very inconsiderate stupid boyfriend. That’d show him to do whatever he wanted no matter the problems he gave her... If he even came back this time. Idiot jerk. She didn’t even bother to hide herself. She could always whip something up later. But her physiology kept her at most semi-inebriated, and that took downing bottles of tequila. “Phff.” It certainly didn’t feel like a luxury problem right now. (Well, at least this little diversion should erase all doubts about whether I’m loosing my grip. Now, whatever should I do about it?)
“I’d like to have a Daiquiri special s'il vous plait.”
Nabiki looked over at her companion by the bar. It was a very stylish, dark-haired young businesswoman in a chic, tastefully body-moulded white suit, and golden-brimmed elegant specs. She read as having a more than passing fluency in the finer things in life. “Give me another one of those.” Nabiki took a sip. It was good. Prepared exactly the way she liked… But there was something hauntingly familiar about those features… yet she was certain that they had never passed before her eyes.
The lady smoothly swept her own drink sideways across the counter to position it beside Nabiki’s own, returning to sipping her camomile tea. “I choose it for your benefit. I’m afraid that it is not quite to my taste.”
Nabiki jerked slightly. “I beg your pardon?”
The mystery-woman inspected her wretched state with a certain degree of concern. “I wouldn’t worry about Monsieur Saotome. I have it on very good authority that he is more than capable of taking care of himself.”
Nabiki looked down into the glass again. So yet another butt-in, maybe an alert arcane dabbler, or one of those ESP goons warning her off, so what else was new? Matters kept crashing down out of her control. She couldn’t even bother to care right now.  Whatever it was, she’d put her own spin on it. She always did, somehow. Hooray. “All right. It’s not a good time, but you’ve got my attention. What do you want from me, and who am I addressing?”
“This is primarily about what you want from me Mademoiselle Tendo. But rest assured that he is most decidedly safe. As for who I am…”
The woman raised her glasses, and let her eyes flash to satisfy her fondness for a certain degree of panache. The locale went still, as all motion frozen in place. “Je suis megami prime class, unlimited licence, Peorth. Currently assigned head system operator for this section of interspatial reality.”
Nabiki wasn’t particularly in a mood to be impressed. “Psh! I’ve seen better.” Actually she wasn’t so sure, but certainly wasn’t about to admit that. “Goddess? Oh please. You’re not that good looking.”

“Technically I think the term caretakers might be more approprie. We can take ourselves a bit seriously, and I am no exception, but at heart we are simply cogs in… what you’d best understand as a massive, largely benevolent corporation, and advanced computer maintenance. It is mainly satisfying work, but not quite as glamorous as the term may imply.” Peorth reached into a pocket, brought out what looked like a sleek silver remote control, and touched a key. A halo pinged to life above her head. “Is this better? Non?” She pushed a second. Great wings that would make the finest swan envious sprouted from behind her back. 
“We are not usually supposed to manifest to this degree, but this tool enables me to stretch the boundaries a bit, and I have a temporary jurisdiction l'utiliser.” Another click. Peorth’s wings spread to 20 sheets of solid light. A final tap: Her form ripped and burst forth a vaguely humanoid luminescence, appearing very different depending on the angle, sparkling in a cascade of ‘colours’ beyond anything found in any spectra, beyond what any eyes could pattern-feed to the brain from any wavelength of light, yet somehow very familiar. 
Nabiki felt the taste of cherries and strawberries, a light summer breeze carrying the smell of hyacinths, roses, and the flora of an untended field in full bloom; The purl of a mountain stream, a pouring monsoon, the song of swallows, of daffodils, of exotic birds, and the crack of fireworks; The rush of skiing down the slope of a mountain, of exploring the depths of the sea, of soaring through the clouds, of making love in a moonlit pool beneath the stars… To explore, and learn, and pattern, and crack the secrets of science, of creation… to feel true fulfilment… to prove your existence… to change the world; All the flavours and tastes, climates, milieus, and positive primal experiences, nuances, or pursuits that this world had to offer, embracing and permeating her mind, her body, her essence on every level, yet not feeling the least intrusive, just a tranquil rush or therapeutic or both. If she only could have bottled this thing… She would
 have made a fortune.

Nabiki felt Peorth reach with a hand to lightly touch her brow / Reminisced about being touched / Was going to be touched / Had always been contentedly embraced by her mother’s arms since she was born, like just before she was sent away to the hospital and said everything would be all right, but never came back / Was going to be comforted, and never be alone until the day she died / Felt a dejà vu about this happening several times before / Experienced overlapping memories as she completed each thought. / Was a doctor… a scientist… a businesswoman… a lawyer… a publisher… a model… an actress… a diva… a trophy wife… an enforcer… a user… a swindler… a murderer… a very human woman trying to get by. / Went to another kindergarten… went to another school… met and befriended people she didn’t recognise… helped little Kasumi at home… mother was never sent away… father didn’t give up on her training… moved abroad with
 her family… was true to herself yet something else… lost amongst a thousand paths. / She was a tree… a wolf… a fish… a snake… a thousand other people… creatures… things… some evolved beyond the point of recognition… 
Every eventuality. Every possibility. Every past. Every future. Every completely unrelated alternate her… Stretching forever beyond any conceptualisation… Spreading her awareness… Existing in several quantum states at once… Here and there… Now and then… Dead and alive, or something in-between… Looking across the spans of the Universal clusters and beyond… Feeling the rhythm of a 10-dimensional super-string defining known existence… Plummeting deep into the heart of creation… But still not even touching the surface of the totality of the exalted entity now once more calmly seated before her, inoffensively sipping herbal tea, while looking into her face and comprehending every aspect of her being with no judgement, only warm acceptance, hope for her potential, and genuine concern… Nabiki felt the bile rise as her stomach churned in unreserved revulsion. (A patronising, sanctimonious, sermonising, pity-revelling babysitter!)

Peorth paid no mind to the grimace. “Please understand, and I mean no disrespect, but you are no threat to us Mademoiselle Tendo. No lower-dimensional entity could ever truly be, regardless of subverted power-sources. We allow them to overcome a reasonably challenging avatar every now and then to make them happy, but if you could ever truly use something at our level, and nobody ever has, regardless of personal delusions, it would splatter you across more dimensions than you have available, effectively making you cease to exist. Our main job is not to subvert change, even on the scale of natural laws, which are more fluid than you might think, but to ensure that reality doesn’t collapse upon itself, and is still around more or less intact when you wake up in the morning. Failing that, to rebuild it, and define existence beyond an eternal nothingness. Technically we certainly don’t need to personally help any of you, but generally we’d like to
 lend a hand when we are allowed, if you’d let us.”
Nabiki looked back in disbelief. “So you’re just here out of the ‘goodness of your heart’ to help a total stranger out of billions of others, one with ‘very negotiable ethics’ no less, and that’s supposed to make tons of sense? There are no free meals, only commercial appetisers. Again, what do you want from me?”
Peorth evenly put down her cup. “Matters have been stirred enough lately to be of a certain concern. Avec concision, your present state is the consequence of our most reckless administrator stretching the regulations to their limits and contracting with Saotome Ranma.”
Nabiki sniffed in derision. “Oh please, lover-boy is supposed to have brought this on me? ‘Somehow’ I don’t buy him instigating, keeping up, and enjoying that scale of two-faced enterprise.”
“The contract was calculated to seal without his direct knowledge, or rational judgement.”
“…So interfering and making a mess at this scale is just ‘reckless’?”
Peorth let slip a faint soft smile. “She’s a special case, literally the tip of the scales, and we need her on our side. She means very well, but tends to get hasty, and prefers a more… direct approach of interference. I’m not certain if this is a good or bad path. Most likely it depends case by case, but it is not quite mine, and it has consequences.”

A bronzed, blonde, and nearly inhumanly gorgeous, bombshell was currently engaged in cleaning the floor of a large computer terminal.
“Hey sweeper! Gimme that bag of chips over there!”
Urd hated this. “Get it yourself brat! It’s just 20 centimetres away. Lift your own blasted arm.”
Skuld really enjoyed this. “My mega-big brain needs fuel. Not that a dumb sweeper would understand.” She blew her older sibling a raspberry.
The goddess of the past smiled in a very unpleasant way while lightning crackled around her right fist. “Oh really?”
The goddess of the future displayed an extremely smug unconcerned grin, and stuck a stereotypical TV reporter microphone in Urd’s face. “I’ll tell on you.”
Urd grumbled and threw the bag into her sister’s lap. This was going to be an awful month, and extended by another day for every time she received a complaint. That was almost guaranteed to stretch it way beyond with Skuld’s current, somewhat less manifest, line of attack.

Peorth returned to the matter at hand. “ Malgre tout, this is largely irrelevant to our current dilemma. Formerly we could look between the fingers to this somewhat precarious status quo. It was instated through a glitch in the system, but was nonetheless official and irrevocable. However, you are coming dangerously close of largely breaking free from the given terms of the, admittedly poorly defined, hastily cobbled together, contract through sheer insight, available expertise, resources and potential modifications. Under these conditions you would no longer fall under our jurisdiction. Further complicating this matter, the very same executive recently had a hand in the assassination of one of our opposition’s top operatives. It’s strictly an irrelevant hobby-project on their part, toys to be discarded when they are broken. Spirit gathering and torment is largely a myth. They don’t have the time, care, need or interest. The system chiefly works
 in terms of gradual spiritual salvation, advancement, and recycling, but they have taken the opportunity to make demands of restitution, more specifically conveying the offer of becoming a modernised, encore plus efficient, replacement. This has been negotiated as an acceptable settlement. It seems like they have quite a lot of faith in you.”

Nabiki baulked. Looking for words to win time. Stumbling out. “So what would you propose?” (Stupid! Never let the salesperson take the initiative.)
“Do you think the gods have all the answers Mademoiselle Tendo? Oh, I suppose we’re not such a bad bunch overall, and by your measuring we do possess transcended intellect, perception, and experience in certain respects, but we all have our flaws that make us more than mere functions, mine being pride and vanity. And we are mostly occupied with office work and personal issues. We certainly care. Many of us very much so, and would like to help in some way, somehow inspire you to embrace our path of at least trying to help and be kind to others, but it is much harder for those confined to a harsh reality. Ultimately answers must be relative to oneself, and up to each individual to matter. I have not yet found all of mine.”

The schemer sighed. “All right, an informed outline of prospects then?”
The goddess gracefully clapped her hands in delight. “Bravo ma fille. Well worded effectivement.”
Ah blessed melodrama, Peorth was truly in her element now, regardless of exceedingly disturbing circumstances. She caught Nabiki’s gaze. “Will you truly be yourself, rescind all the freedoms, glories and possibilities of your new life, and come to terms with your one true path restricted to the resourcefulness of an ordinary mortal? Be caught in an inescapable glass box as a desperate office lady, looking above like a caged animal, yearning for riches as a swindler, extortionist, user and abuser, but restricted to your own cleverness when circumventing the reins of society? All traces and recollections directly connected to these happenings fading like light summer reveries from all involved, seamlessly tailored in flowing order?” Images flashed before Nabiki’s eyes. Her ordinary pathetic self… Lacking opportunity to properly use studies in financial psychology… Surrounded by a sea of hopeless spinsters whose sole ambition was to land a
 husband… Seeking the thrill of the game for riches and leisure, blended with suffocating droning cogwheel labour, and occasional visits in court… Vainly striving to break free of her shackles… Reckless mistakes made her enemies amass… Heartbroken suitors or ruined victims spinning webs of reckoning… eventually catching up with her along differing routes… leading to imprisonments… or far worse. The enraptured girl shuddered in reaction.

The goddess was relentless. “Will you force each step down an unknown narrow path, bringing great things and discoveries to the world around you, without taking advantage, and truly be accepted and respected by your beloved?”  A largely contented Ranma was shown going to work heading his charity-based, self-empowering defence schools for disenfranchised youths with offices placed all over the world… A bewildered Nabiki discretely financing it, and a sea of other organisations… stuck in an unfamiliar element she couldn’t perceive as herself… Not able to use her talents for any harmful or deceitful ends whatsoever… Studying and practising as a hundred different people… reaching pinnacles of intellectual self-improvement through sheer amassment of expertise… and using it all for the benefit of mankind, for her family, for her acquaintances, for... herself? Was there any piece of her left? Losing her way… being twisted into something
 alien… tuning in to the obnoxious chiding voice… striving to find joy in preposterous things… straining as her back held up the world… going unassumingly into the still night.

Nabiki vainly tried to look away. It was too much, too quick. Her mind attempted to freeze up in self-defence to its sheer terror, but found itself unable to gain a moment’s respite. This was nothing like the soothing nature in the revelations she had experienced a few minutes earlier.

“Will you contract with the dark forces and loosen yourself upon the world at a heretofore unprecedented and unrestricted scale? To be an untouchable nightmare for those who know you, and a universally beloved celebrity to those who listen to your personal media? All the while directing empires of trafficking in arms, drugs, prostitution, enforcement, plunder and corruption from a hundred differing directions, and invading the most intimate regions through a host of mystics at your beck and call?”
Riches beyond imagining… infiltrating… replacing… deceiving… seducing… moulding… blackmailing… torturing… trading… and assassinating… any megastar… any official… any patriarch of business… no matter how powerful… all subverted to her service… board pieces to her whims… or destroyed with their necks high or broken… She was immortal… unstoppable… never accountable… everywhere and nowhere… beyond the norms of society… defining them… running indoctrinating infotainment on all levels… Fame, worship, control and leadership in a hundred different fashions… finally freed of all constrictions… revelling in her influence… delighting in every possibility… every leisure… with the geopolitical and ideological landscapes as her personal playthings… Bliss… and yet chiming very lonely and hollow… far beyond the reach of anyone… building hobby-families to ground herself and reconnect… too far apart…
 failing and discarding them… rotting from the inside… no remaining challenge… filled with a pit of emptiness… dragging the world down with her despair… sitting eternal amidst a barren wasteland.
Nabiki felt queasy and exposed, sensing how she was simultaneously scrutinised from every angle, like she might have skimmed through a brochure, but overlooking nothing. She drowned as the goddess’ overwhelming presence infused her deepest cores, and observed her in absolute sincerity, emphasising every word as they reverberated across her being. “Choose carefully, and choose well.” Her dams burst, as she finally accepted the absolute gravity in the situation.

Nabiki was sobbing. “You can’t do this to me! What gives you the right? To oppress me… to not let me do what I want! How can I decide everything just like that? …None of them are the way I’d like.”
Peorth’s face softened again. “Necessity Mademoiselle Tendo. I’m supposed to be impartial, and have always taken pride in ma professionnalisme. It is one reason I was selected for this. I have to show you every implication, even if I personally find at least one of them shockingly abhorrent. If it is of any consolidation your memories of this encounter will quickly disappear after we are done. Your destiny is once more open for yourself to mould, but the foundations are set in the here and now. This is the fourth and final great nexus point your life has led towards and centres around. The first three being the passing of your mother, the arrival of the Saotomes, and the scheme that set this boulder rolling.”
Nabiki shivered, and downed the second drink that had been thoughtfully placed before her. She straightened her back with more outward composure than her mind could check. “All right, let’s get this over with.”
“Tres bien.” Peorth rose from her seat, leading Nabiki to stand facing her. A whirlwind encircled them, filled with gleaming runes, yet somehow not touching or interfering with the stationary surroundings. “Do you forswear, to clear, to never bear, the song and whirl and change? Nevermore, never before, to dance a line, insane, sublime, reverting to mundane?”
Nabiki wiped her eyes, and made an effort to snort in defiance. “Why the pretentious stylised nonsense-speech? Couldn’t you just snap your fingers or something?”
Peorth was visibly straining amidst the mystic tides. Touching glowing circuits and moulding patterns with fingers, glances, beats of her hymns, dancing steps with her toes, even the lengthy strands of her swirling hair. “Magic is leverage. Leverage is movement. Movement is math. Math is structure. Structures are programs. Programs are patterns. Patterns are symbols. Symbols are language. Language is purpose! Make a choice. What would you give? What would you give up? Speak your true-voiced wish. Now!”
“I…”
All went white, and a ripple surged through the air, as the partygoers resumed their steps where they had left off, never noticing anything out of the ordinary, or the sudden departure of their former guests.

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