Hades Project Zeorymer Fan Fiction ❯ Meiou Shojo ZEORYMER (Hades Maiden ZEORYMER) ❯ Episode 2: Awakening, Part II – Zeorymer of the Heavens ( Chapter 2 )

 

The interior of the abandoned warehouse was suffused in a cloud of dust and floating bits of debris. Moonlight shone down through a charred hole of twisted metal blasted out of the roof of the building—the seemingly solid beam of light spotlighting a prone figure splayed out on the concrete floor below. Aside from the whistling of the air outside and the creaks and moans of rusted steel beams, silence filled the mostly empty interior … until it was broken a series of hacking coughs.

 

“Ugh!” Masato groaned as he sat up, eyes clenched shut and grasping at both sides of his head. `So much for fixing the pain … First it was my leg that was hurt, but now my everything hurts something fierce…'

 

<Are you okay, Masato-kun?> a voice asked.

 

Unleashing another groan, Masato nodded his head as he rolled onto his side, then pushed himself upright on his hands and knees before gradually rising to his feet. Coughing again, he blinked and wiped his eyes due to the high level of dust still floating in the air.

 

“Mik … Miku-chan, is that you?” Masato called out between intermittent hacks as he rubbed his eyes. “I can't see a thing, and … I think something's … straining my throat…” He briefly clutched his neck with one hand, then started at the feel of cold metal against his skin.

 

Yanking his hand away, Masato looked down at his open palm, which was covered in a gloss black, segmented metal gauntlet—the fingers ending in sharpened, claw-like tips. Turning his hand around, Masato saw that a golden-yellow crystal half-sphere was mounted against the flat of his hand, with a protruding, flaplike, white cowl partially enclosing the translucent orb. The black gauntlet terminated at the wrist, where it was mounted into a larger, bulky, white armor piece enclosing his forearm, highlighted by a band of crimson red around its center, and thick, blade-like protrusions set backwards near his elbow.

 

“Wh-wh-what … is this?!” Masato stammered, his hands outstretched and shaking as his gaze trailed up and down his arms, then down the rest of his body where he spied additional armored vestments. He then grasped again at his throat. “And … why does my voice sound so … shrill? What's happened to me?!”

 

<Calm down, Masato-kun!> Masato heard a voice—which he now recognized as Miku's—exclaim, the sound seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

 

“Miku-chan?” Masato uttered as he turned his head side-to-side, looking around at the slowly clearing air of the warehouse. Cautiously, he began shuffling forward, continuing to glance around the moonlit interior of the building “Seriously, where are you? I can hear you, but I can't see you…”

 

<That's … a difficult question to answer,> Miku's voice replied, resulting in a frustrated grunt from Masato.

 

“Well, I'd appreciate if you'd try,” he stated with an added huff, “Because I'm really starting to … freak … out…?”

 

Masato's voice trailed off as he spied a glint of light in the corner of his vision. Hobbling over to a pile of twisted rubble, his gaze fell on a clear patch of moonlight reflecting off from the surface of one of the dust-covered metal pieces. After pulling the plate free and propping it upright, Masato proceeded to wipe it down with a strip of cloth he found on the concrete floor, eventually revealing the lightly mirrored surface beneath.

 

“Wha … what the actual hell?” Masato breathed out, slowly taking in the image before him. “Is that … me?!”

 

The reflected figure staring back at Masato had wide, amber eyes and a long, wild mane of crimson hair, topped by an open-framed headpiece consisting of a jewel-rimmed horn jutting outwards at the forehead, two triangular pieces covering both ears, and an intake-like crest running from the crown to the rear of the head. Compared to his normally average build and frame, the body shown in the mirror was slim and toned, with bare skin showing on the neck, upper arms, and thighs. In addition to the gauntlets he had already spied, Masato could now see that he wore similarly thick, knee-length, armored white boots decorated by red, band-like spats, black striping and trim, and golden-yellow crystalline structures along the sides of both calves. Shimmery, black, skintight material with white striping extended out from beneath the gauntlets and boots, with the former being capped by rings of white armor around each bicep. Further up each arm, large, white, boxy pauldrons sat atop structured, pale, bubble-like sleeves covering each shoulder—protruding outwards horizontally from the reflected body before gradually curving up in angled spurts like a polygon representation of bullhorns.

 

In addition, Masato saw that his upper torso was now encased by a white, armored cuirass, with a thick, collar-like band rimming the neckline, and a glowing, hexagon-shaped casing mounted in the center of his chest. The outer sides of the sculpted breastplate were framed by protruding, hook-like flanges with upturned tips, while along the top of the backpiece sat two finned intakes which (when Masato turned sideways) descended into curved, layered structures jutting outwards, like a pair of folded, featherless wings. The bottom and outer sides of the breastplate were connected by thick, black clasps to a flattened, disc-shaped armor piece covering the abdomen, beneath which a layer of white, textured cloth concealed the midriff. A multi-slit short-skirt of the same glimmering fabric flared out at the hip and ran down to mid-thigh. The skirt itself lay beneath various armor plates, mounted at the waist, and covering the groin, front of each upper leg, sides of each hip, and rear end. [1]

 

Masato's gaze slowly trailed up and down his reflected image, taking in all the details of the new body he now apparently bore. His mouth hung ajar, and his hands lightly shook as he struggled to reconcile the appearance he saw displayed, what he could physically sense of his physique beneath the armored suit, and his own kinesthetic memory of what his body should feel like. Masato's distress was further compounded in the wake of at least two very clear changes which stood out in the reflection before him…

 

“WHY DOES MY BODY HAVE THINGS IT DIDN'T AND NOT HAVE THINGS IT SHOULD?!?!” Masato shrieked, his fingers twitching above the prominent chest of his now, evidently, female armored form.

 

<It's all right, Masato-kun! Everything is just fine!> Miku's voice said reassuringly, causing Masato to pause for a beat before he roughly shook his head.

 

“Even so—Why. Am I. A girl?!” Masato pronounced. “And why am I dressed like a bad Magic Knight/Mecha Suit Girl cosplay?!” he added, gesturing up and down the length of his armored body.

 

<The physical transformation is the result of our cross-dimensional coupling,> Miku's voice replied evenly. <It was a necessary change to ensure optimal compatibility and power output from this specialized armor system—`Zeorymer of the Heavens'—which is the true form of the artifact your father had been safekeeping until now.>

 

“Okay, okay, slow down a bit—I'm having trouble keeping up with what you're saying…” Masato said, turning away from the metal slab and taking a few deep breaths to slow his thudding heart. After he felt a bit calmer, Masato began looking around the warehouse again. “First off, where are you, Miku-chan? I can hear your voice, but I can't pinpoint where it's coming from.”

 

<Turn around Masato-kun,> Miku's voice said. After Masato had turned back to face the mirrored piece of metal, she continued: <Do you see the housing in the middle of your chest?>

 

Masato nodded, and in response to his motion, Miku stated, <That is where I could be said to be existing right now. Or where my consciousness is located, at least.>

 

Masato blinked. “What.”

 

Miku's voice seemed to sigh. <When you initiated the cross-dimensional coupling, our bodies were combined at a subatomic level, transmuting into the physical form you now see,> she recited, <However, only a single consciousness—a `pilot'—can be in primary control of this body while transformed. That's you, Masato-kun.>

 

Masato gulped as he slowly processed Miku's words. Looking more closely at his reflected appearance, and so long as he ignored the different colored hair and eyes, Masato found he could indeed see traces of both his and Miku's features in the face staring back at him.

 

“I see…” he said, still bewildered and unsure. His hand gently touched the glowing orb over his heart. “But what about you, Miku-chan?”

 

<I currently exist incorporeally within our shared body,> Miku replied. <I can communicate to you mentally—as I'm doing now. I can also manipulate the distribution and flow of energy from the Dimensional Coupler—the main power source for this armor.> Masato's brows rose at the last part of Miku's statement.

 

`A … “Dimensional Coupler”? As in … “Ultra-Dimensional Systems” theory?' he pondered.

 

Seemingly unaware of Masato's internal musings, Miku continued: <While I can provide some support by altering the operation of supplemental functions, I can't directly control what we physically do while we are merged. That's where you come in, Masato-kun.>

 

“All right, I think I follow…” Masato said. “But … we can turn back, right? This `coupling' … it can be reversed, can't it? I mean, I … we won't be stuck like this forever … will we?”

 

Miku was silent for a moment, causing Masato's nerves to ratchet up in anticipation.

 

<Yes … theoretically speaking, that should be possible,> Miku finally answered, leading Masato to droop with relief. <However, given that this is the first successful activation of Zeorymer, I can't say with absolute certainty what will happen moving forward…>

 

In response, Masato sighed once again and ruefully shook his head. “Well, you did say that there would be risks involved with using those bracers—I can't say you didn't warn me,” he eventually said with a small, lopsided smile, scratching at one cheek with his finger.

 

Masato's smile then fell as he sobered, his shoulders drooping as he turned his gaze back to the mirror, and the armored girl staring back at him. “Though I certainly can't say that I expected something like this as a potential outcome,” he added softly. `I really must be cursed…'

 

<I personally think we look rather cute, Masato-kun!> Miku's voice chirped back at him, drawing a snort and brief laugh from the boy-turned-girl.

 

“Well, don't get used to it…” Masato said. “As soon as we get out of here, I'm going to figure out how to undo this crazy transforma—”

 

Masato's words were cut short as he suddenly felt a sharp, tingling sensation at the back of his skull, followed a moment later by the gradually increasing sound of whirling rotor blades pounding in his eardrums.

 

<Proximity alert! Masato-kun, we have incoming!> Miku exclaimed. <I'm going to try and send you the telemetry directly…>

 

As Miku's voice trailed off, Masato's vision briefly flashed, and then was suddenly filled with an overlay of words, numbers, symbols, and status indicators for (what he assumed) were various subsystems of the armor, and thus completely foreign to Masato. When his eyes shifted left and right, small labels popped up displaying information about the strength and composition of various objects scattered around the interior of the warehouse. Looking up, Masato found that this augmented vision could look through the corrugated metal roof, allowing him to `see' the small, neon-outlined shapes of two helicopters in the distance. As Masato watched, the two aircraft grew larger as they rapidly approached the warehouse, their speed, distance, and other tactical information laid out in real-time in separate popup windows.

 

“Miku…” Masato exhaled. “How am I seeing all of this?”

 

<The frontal horn on your headpiece and ear coverings aren't just there for decoration, Masato-kun,> Miku replied. <They're part of a three-dimensional sensory array whose information I can transpose into information sent to you through your optic nerves.> Almost as an afterthought, she added: <Your hearing and other senses have been similarly heightened in this way.>

 

“Okay, got it…” Masato said slowly, watching as the helicopters settled into a hovering position above the warehouse. “So, are these friends of yours … or someone I should be worried about?”

 

<Unknown … there's no transponder or radio signal being broadcast, and I'm not able to gauge anything visually without our having a direct line of sight,> Miku stated. <But it's best to be on your guard, just in case—>

 

The sudden sound of shearing metal and shattering glass cut Miku's words short as, from the ceiling above, multiple armored figures dropped down from holes smashed through the warehouse roof. Clouds of dust sprang up as the unit landed in a cluster before Masato, before slowly rising upright as the dust settled, brandishing assault rifles and other projectile weapons. The seeming assembly of men were clad in black coveralls covered in plates of smooth, lacquered armor on the arms, shoulders, torso, and lower legs, with matching helmets and thick glassware covering their eyes.

 

Fearfully, Masato took a step backwards. “Miku-chan…?”

 

<No question—they're Hau Dragon androids, like the ones we encountered earlier,> Miku confirmed as biometric information about the intruders and their weaponry filled Masato's augmented vision.

 

One of the Hau Dragon soldiers (whose armor had more ornamentation across its surface as well as spikey protrusions on the forearm guards and shoulder pauldrons), raised its rifle and aimed at Masato.

 

“I have visual confirmation—the relic has been awakened,” the soldier stated, speaking into a microphone mounted on its helmet. “Proceeding with target suppression.”

 

The other troopers likewise raised their weapons in a one fluid, synchronized motion, leading Masato's body to be illuminated by multiple red pinpoints from laser sights pointed his way.

 

Masato slowly and shakily raised his arms up, desperately waving his hands as he uttered with a cracking voice: “Wait, wait, don't shoo—!”

 

His words were for naught, as the Hau Dragon troopers immediately began firing en masse, kicking up yet another cloud of dust with their barrage of gunfire. The assault continued for nearly a minute before the soldier who had spoken earlier raised an arm. In response, the other troopers stopped their fire, though they kept their weapons raised and ready.

 

A moment passed, and gradually the dust settled and cleared … revealing a perfectly intact Masato. After a beat, the teen cautiously opened one eye, blinked, and then lowered the arms which had been braced protectively in front of his head.

 

`H-how? How am I okay?' Masato wondered, then flinched and raised his arms again as the more decorated Hau Dragon soldier fired several more rounds off from its rifle. However, the shots simply ricocheted off Masato's armored body, leaving the teen unharmed.

 

After a pause, the apparent leader of the group lowered its rifle, then let it drop to the floor as it pulled a long knife from a sheath strapped to its thigh. The android then tilted its head back to look at the cluster of more uniform troopers behind it. “Prepare for hand-to-hand combat.”

 

In response to the order, the other Hau Dragon troopers nodded and proceeded to similarly holster or drop their firearms in favor of blades, batons, and other melee weapons they had mounted on their bodies. As the troopers rearmed, their leader turned back to Masato, raising its arm to brandish its knife at chin-level.

 

“Hold fast for now, but follow my lead and give no quarter,” the soldier stated. “Our mission is to retrieve HKS-01A, not its current wielder.”

 

Without another word, the android lunged towards Masato, clearing the distance between them with unnatural speed. Masato yelped and tried to back away, but the Hau Dragon soldier was already upon him, slashing its knife in a curved arc towards Masato's neck. Just before the blade made contact, plumes of blue flame erupted from concealed exhaust ports on Masato's legs, the bottoms of his feet, and the winglike structures on his back, propelling him backwards and away from immediate harm. Undaunted, the soldier quickly pivoted and lunged again, continuing to pursue and slice at Masato as the transformed boy shakily evaded.

 

<Masato-kun! You need to fight back!> Miku pleaded. <I have just enough influence to nudge our reflexes, but you're still the one in primary control of this body!>

 

“I can't—this is impossible!” Masato shouted back. “I don't know how to fight like you do, Miku-chan!”

 

<I know!> Miku's voice responded. <And I know you're scared, Masato-kun—I can feel it! But I believe in you, so believe in yourself! Also … believe in our power—our power as Zeorymer!>

 

As he continued to desperately dodge the flurry of slashes and jabs from the Hau Dragon soldier, Masato suddenly felt a shuttering wave of despair ripple through his core.

 

<Masato-kun … please!> Miku's voice cried, issuing another swelling of woe that the teen felt rather than heard.

 

`That's right…' Masato thought, `It's not just my life at stake here, but Miku's too! If I don't do something, then she'll—'

 

The boy's reverie abruptly ended as a scorching pain lanced through his right arm, one of the android's furious cuts having finally hit their mark. Screaming, Masato instinctively leapt backwards, eyes closed and clutching at his wounded arm with his free hand. His focus blinded by the pain, Masato landed off balance, stumbling briefly as he tried to regain his footing before his legs gave out and he fell to the ground on his rear.

 

The Hau Dragon soldier smirked for a moment, then leapt high into the air, knife pointed downward and clasped in both hands above its head. Diving like a bird-of-prey, the android fell towards Masato, with the pointed tip of the blade aimed squarely at the middle of Masato's face.

 

Masato's eyes widened—his gaze locked on the armored figure descending from above like a Grim Reaper with its scythe raised to strike. Time seemed to slow, and with his eyes still resting on the descending soldier, Masato gradually released his injured arm and curled his blood-soaked hand into a fist. Languidly, the teen raised and extended his left arm to point his fist (and the gold sphere atop it) at the falling android. Just as the Hau Dragon soldier reached striking distance, the sphere flashed, and a translucent, gleaming, golden shockwave erupted outward, briefly stopping the descending soldier midair … before pushing straight through it, the artificial being screaming as it vanished in a burst of ash and ozone.

 

`Good … good …'

 

Masato blinked several times and then shook his head. “Wh-what?” he uttered, his eyes wide and locked on his still outstretched fist. “Did I … how did I … do that?”

 

<Yes, just like that!> Miku's voice praised. <Well done, Masato-kun!>

 

Masato grunted in response, lowered his hand, and then slowly climbed back up onto his feet. Across the warehouse, the group of Hau Dragon troopers stood in silence, their weapons still raised but held in loosened grips. The two sides engaged in a quiet stare-off with one another, neither one willing to make the first move, as blood slowly dripped from the wound on Masato's right arm.

 

“Miku-chan…” Masato said. “What … what was that attack I just did? Is that … is that one of Zeorymer's powers?”

 

<Yes,> Miku replied, <From what I can determine, the spheres on your gauntlets allow you to direct energy from the Dimensional Coupler psychokinetically. The attack you just used was just one of multiple possible forms that energy can take.>

 

Masato looked down with a furrowed brow at the golden spheres atop both of his hands, his fingers spread wide and lightly twitching. “And … and what are the limits of these … of our abilities?”

 

<Hypothetically?> Miku's voice queried, and Masato nodded in response. <With the Dimensional Coupler operating at full capacitance, we are likely only restricted by your will … and the strength of our body to endure the resulting output.>

 

“I … see …” Masato replied in a slow drawl, his eyelids drooping slightly as his irises glazed over. “Just as I thought…”

 

`Power … unlimited power …'

 

<Masato-kun?> Miku's voice asked tentatively, causing the boy to rapidly blink and refocus.

 

Setting his mouth in a thin, determined line, Masato looked up at the still silent group of Hau Dragon troopers, lowering his hands to his sides before slowly curling them into fists. In response to Masato's change in stance, the collective of androids once again raised their weapons, bracing their arms and legs and assuming an attack-ready formation, pinpricks of glowing red showing where their eyes lay behind their tinted eyewear.

 

`I don't want to, but there're no other options—I have to fight,' Masato thought as he braced himself, though he could still feel sweat beading and rolling down his neck, his muscles twitching, and his fists shaking. `And when in this kind of situation … the first thing to do is…'

 

 

The sudden, unexpected cry from the crimson-haired, armor-clad “girl” had the desired effect of startling the group of troopers, throwing them off-balance, and into a state of mild confusion as they lowered their weapons and the light faded from behind their eyewear. Not wasting the opportunity, Masato blasted forward towards the armed mass of androids with the aid of his armor's thrusters—quickly closing the distance—and punching through one of the robotic troopers with one of his glowing fists.

The AURORA of light shines on your body…

Lowering his arm, Masato turned away from the crumbling ash cloud where the Hau Dragon trooper once stood, and the remaining androids seemed to return to their senses, raising their weapons and collectively rushing towards the teen. Masato ducked away from a horizontal slash from a trooper wielding a large machete, rising back up to give his assailant a glowing uppercut, and sending the trooper briefly airborne before it likewise dissolved into dust.

Two of the Hau Dragon troopers tried to flank Masato by rushing at him from both sides, but the boy responded by stretching out both arms and unleashing dual psychokinetic bursts from his closed fists, stopping both androids mid-stride before they collapsed to the ground in a heap of sparks and broken body parts. A tingling pulse at the base of Masato's head along with a silent shout from Miku caused the teen to look up, then leap backwards—just before an extendable metal staff slashed down through the space he had just vacated and smashed into the concrete floor.

Thrusters still firing, Masato briefly hovered in the air before dropping heavily back to the ground. He raised his arms protectively to cover his head as the metal rod again came slamming down, the impact against his armor causing an echoing ring with each glancing blow. Slowly, and with arms still raised, Masato began stepping backwards as the attacking Hau Dragon trooper continued to press forward, using its longer reach to keep Masato well outside of striking distance.

For evil has emerged on the Earth…

As his assailant's staff once again came crashing down, Masato suddenly shifted to his side, catching the rod in his metal-covered hands before roughly yanking it (and the Hau Dragon trooper still holding it) towards him. Releasing the staff, Masato stepped forward, then leaped towards the unbalanced android and punched through its torso with his blazing fist, unleashing a point-blank psychokinetic burst. As his attacker evaporated behind him, Masato slowly turned towards the remaining cadre of troopers, hands raised, and eyes glowing gold along with the orbs on his palms and his hexagonal chest piece.

WAKE UP! THE HERO! Burning brightly!

With furious intent, Masato dashed towards the group of androids, both of his arms raised to strike. Now it was the Hau Dragon troopers who were on the defensive, weaving and dodging to stay out of reach of Masato's fists and the glowing, psychokinetic attacks they issued forth. Those that couldn't move fast enough suffered partial damage to their bodies, as limbs, clothing, and pieces of armor were blasted away, revealing the bio-mechanical joints and framework previously hidden beneath their false flesh.

To the never-ending BATTLE between the light and the dark.

Caught-up in the moment, Masato failed to notice as braided-metal chains shot out from behind a pair of steel support beams, held in the grips of two, partially damaged Hau Dragon troopers hiding behind them. The chains quickly wound around and ensnarled the armored teen, binding his arms tightly against his sides, and holding him rigidly in place. As Masato flexed and struggled against the grasp of the chains, all of the remaining, still functional Hau Dragon androids swarmed and dog-piled him, beating Masato down the ground with an overwhelming percussion of blunt force and flailing limbs.

WAKE UP! THE HERO! Oh, shining sun!

Blue flames spewed out from beneath the pile of Hau Dragon troopers, and then with a roar the crowd of androids scattered as the still-bound Masato blasted out from beneath them, dragging the two hapless troopers still holding onto his chains along with him. Pausing briefly in mid-air, Masato began spinning in place, slowly at first but then with rapidly increased speed. The two troopers trailing along tried valiantly to hold onto the chains with their artificially boosted grips, but eventually gave into the pull of centrifugal force, flying off and smashing into opposing walls of the warehouse.

Briefly reversing his rotation, Masato quickly shucked the chains entangling his arms and body, then hovered in the air above the recovering group of Hau Dragon troopers below. Extending both arms out, Masato slowly rotated around, the half-spheres on his palms flashing bursts of golden light that were then matched by explosions rocking each of the androids' bodies—blasting some to ash, and shattering others into broken piles of cybernetic scrap and smoldering fluids as they fell to the ground. After a few revolutions, Masato paused—looking around the interior of the warehouse with eyes aglow, and a small, superior smirk on his lips—before suddenly groaning, palming his head, and gently lowering back down to the concrete floor.

 

`Well done … well done …'

 

Bent over, panting, and clutching both knees as his body trembled and shook, Masato managed to ask between labored breaths: “Mik … Miku-chan, did … did you … say something?”

 

<I said, `Well done, Masato-kun!'> Miku replied. <That … that was an incredible display! I thought you said you hadn't received any combat training … how were you able to fight like that?>

 

“I wish … I wish I knew myself…” Masato said unsurely, still bent over, but his breathing slowly becoming more regular and even. Eventually, Masato straightened and stood upright, his eyes slowly trailing across the carnage strewn throughout the interior of the warehouse.

 

`Sure, when I was little, I used to try and mimic the kind of fighting I saw on TV … but that wasn't anything like this…' Masato thought to himself, glancing down at his open palms, which were lightly shaking. `It's almost … like my body knew how to move on its own. Like … like someone else was fighting those androids … instead of me…'

 

Masato shook his head, and then began taking stock of the mass of charred, broken, and still-lightly sparking biomechanical bodies strewn around the interior of the warehouse. “So, what do we do about all of this?” he asked, waving one arm in a sweeping motion in front of him.

 

<Last Guardian will likely want to collect the remains for study once they arrive to retrieve us,> Miku replied. <In particular, I imagine that my father will be quite interested to examine how far Hau Dragon technology has progressed up to now.>

 

Masato nodded, seeing the logic in Miku's words from what he knew of the mysterious organization Miku was associated with—which (if Masato was being completely honest with himself) was still worryingly little. Shaking himself from such pessimistic thoughts, Masato turned his head towards the ceiling.

 

“Speaking of Hau Dragon … what happened to those helicopters from before?” Masato asked.

 

<They departed shortly after those combat androids dropped into the warehouse> Miku's voice answered. <It's likely they didn't want to draw unnecessary attention to their activity from the local civilians. Neither of them seems to be in the immediate area—I'm not picking anything up through our sensors.>

 

“Yeah, I noticed that too,” Masato murmured, his gaze still tilted upward and locked on one of the several holes punched through the warehouse ceiling. “Still … just to be on the safe side—!”

 

Masato bent his knees and leapt upward … but then quickly fell back to Earth, landing roughly on his feet and stumbling briefly before he regained his footing. Letting loose a frustrated grunt, Masato braced his feet with bent knees, crouched down, and then once more stretched and leapt upwards. This time, he nearly reached one of the holes in the warehouse ceiling … before his ascent slowed, stopped, and he again returned to ground with a thudding impact and cloud of dust.

 

“Crap!” Masato grumbled in between coughs and hacks. “I was practically flying earlier—why can't I make this work now?!”

 

Bending down yet again, Masato curled his body as tightly as he could with his bulky armor, held that position for several seconds, and then exploded outwards with a shout—arms, hands, and fingers fully outstretched. This time, the thrusters on Masato's back and legs kicked in, and with a yelp he blasted up towards the ceiling of the warehouse, quickly flying through one of the holes in the roof and up into the open night sky. Once he was clear of the immediate obstacle, Masato lowered the arms that had been protectively covering his head, looked around, and let out a hoot of triumph … just as the propulsion from his armor sputtered and went out.

 

Masato briefly hung in the air before he started rapidly falling back to Earth, arms flailing, body tumbling end over end, and thrusters firing randomly in quick bursts in a seeming effort to slow his descent. Eventually, he slammed back into the roof of the warehouse with a resounding bang, bounced briefly, and then began rolling down the roof's incline, his hands and feet desperately scrambling to grip onto something and slow him down. Just as his body rolled over the end of the roof, Masato's hands curled tightly around its edge, leading him to hang with both arms fully outstretched and legs swinging freely.

 

With quivering arms, Masato pulled his head and shoulders up over the roof's edge, until he could finally reach out and dig into the roof's surface with the clawed tips of one his gauntlets. Slowly, laboriously, Masato pulled his way forward, gradually hauling his armored body over the edge of the roof and dragging himself across its surface until his feet and legs finally cleared the precipice. Rolling over, he briefly rested on the rooftop, breathing heavily as his heart continued thudding and threatening to burst from his chest.

 

<Masato-kun!> Miku exclaimed. <Are you okay? Is anything hurt?>

 

In response, Masato groaned and blew an errant tuft of hair away from his eyes with an annoyed huff.

 

“Just my pride…” he finally grumbled, before gradually pushing himself upright by his elbows. Wincing, he rose back onto his feet, then proceeded to brush dust and debris off his arms, legs, and torso. After shaking out his skirt, Masato began manually inspecting his armor for damage.

 

“Everything looks intact…” he murmured as he continued to examine himself, then paused as his hand passed over his previously injured right arm—now healed and without mark or blemish. “What the—? When did that happen?”

 

<Cellular regeneration and other structural repairs can readily be carried out by siphoning matter from higher dimensions using the Dimensional Coupler,> Miku stated matter-of-factly. <Like your leg when we first transformed, the regeneration process on your arm was completed shortly after you atomized the first Hau Dragon soldier—you just didn't notice at the time.> Masato could only shake his head in amazement.

 

`Right in line with the postulations of “Ultra-Dimensional Systems Theory” …' Masato mused. `Based on that … and what I've observed already … the full capability of this armor … of Zeorymer … is downright terrifying…'

 

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Masato looked up and finally took in the view from the top of the warehouse. Despite it being the middle of the night, with the aid of the moon's glow and his enhanced vision, Masato could see the surrounding countryside almost as clearly as if it were day. The warehouse itself sat on a series of low hills that rose upward into a larger mountain range, while several clusters of single-family homes rested in the valley below, followed by a handful of businesses and other nondescript buildings straddling a single, broad, country road. With the shadows of the mountain range looming behind him, the dots of light from the homes below acted like a runway towards the dimly lit, snowcapped peak of Mount Fuji in the distance. [2]

 

<How pretty…> Miku cooed in the back of Masato's mind, and the boy-turned-girl nodded in agreement.

 

“It really is…” Masato said aloud, slowly casting his gaze across the vista before him. `And thankfully, I don't see head or tail of either of those helicopters from before.'

 

A quiet moment passed on the rooftop, as Masato slowly breathed in the night air, allowing the adrenaline rush of the last several minutes to quietly ebb away. As the muscles of the teen's body went warm and limp, he began to feel a gradually tickling ember grow in the center of his chest.

 

<Masato-kun…?> Miku asked—the lilting cadence of her voice causing Masato to pop an eyebrow. <Out of curiosity … what was that song you were singing while you were fighting earlier?> [3]

 

In response to Miku's question, both of Masato's cheeks quickly flushed a rosy hue. “Oh, um … hehe, you … you heard that, huh?” he replied, scratching one cheek as sweat beaded on his forehead.

 

<Mmm-hmmm…> Miku's voice murmured sweetly, <It was rather hard not to…>

 

“Ah,” Masato said as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his skull, his entire face now as bright red as his transformed body's mane. “Well, it's … it's kind of embarrassing actually…”

 

 

Realizing that Miku wasn't likely to give up without an answer, Masato let loose a sigh, then tilted his head up. For a moment, he just gazed at the moon and the stars twinkling in the night sky above

 

“So, you see…” Masato finally said, “When I was little, my parents and I used to watch this cheesy superhero show on TV every night after dinner. It's one the last things I can remember the three of us all doing before … before Mom died, Dad got busy with his work, and I got more involved with my studies at school…”

 

<Oh…> Miku's said, her voice having lost its previous playfulness. <Masato-kun, I'm sorry, I—>

 

“It's okay…” Masato said quickly, shaking his hands placatingly in front of him. “Really, it's okay, Miku-chan.” Looking down, his face settled into a small, sad smile.

 

“Anyway, back then the main character of the show was kind of my hero. So, like a dork I memorized the show's theme song, practiced the main character's fighting moves, and even dressed up in the hero's costume so I could go and take down evildoers!” Masato continued, chuckling lightly at the memory. “I guess you could say that, back then, I … I wanted to grow up and become a Great Hero for Justice too…”

 

Masato laughed, abashed, and once again rubbed the back of his head. “Or something like that!” he said. “Pretty silly, huh?”

 

Miku didn't answer right away, leading yet more sweat to form on Masato's forehead.

 

<So, that song … it's a source of strength?> Miku's voice eventually asked, her tone strangely distant. When Masato nodded in reply, she added: <If … if it's not too much trouble, I … I think I'd like … to watch that show with you sometime, Masato-kun. To learn more about … the sorts of things that … that lie in Masato-kun's heart.>

 

Masato exhaled sharply through his teeth, his cheeks flushing, and tears unexpectedly forming in the corners of his eyes—touched once more by the sincerity he felt radiating from Miku's words.

 

“Yeah, sure … let's do that,” Masato replied softly, as he quickly wiped at his eyes to clear them. Once he was sure his eyes were dry, Masato looked out again at the moonlit landscape before him, a light but genuine smile on his lips. He opened his mouth to speak, but then paused as the insides of his ears began resonating, softly at first, but then with gradually increasing volume.

 

“Miku-chan… do you … hear that…?” he asked.

 

From the valley below, amidst the whistling of tree branches and the low thrum of insects chirping, a faint, high-pitched wailing could be heard, carried on the wind. Tilting his head, Masato instinctively cupped one hand against an armor-covered ear before noticing the act, blushing, and again facing forward.

 

<I'm homing in on the sound…> Miku's voice stated, and a targeting reticle appeared in Masato's vision. The glowing crosshair drifted about, blinking at a steady rhythm until it settled over a shrouded area along a tree-lined, dirt road, leading down from the warehouse towards the residences and village below. <Scanning … Amplifying…>

 

The sound, once faint and wavery, boomed with sudden volume and fidelity against Masato's eardrums. Instantly recognizable, Masato unconsciously raised one hand to his heart as his chest tightened with a shuddering wave of empathy, for the sound was the unmistakable crying of a child in distress.

 

“Miku-chan…” Masato said, his voice raspy and shaken. “I know you said earlier we should stay here, but…”

 

<It can't be helped,> Miku replied simply. <Let's go, Masato-kun!>

 

Nodding, Masato braced himself and then lightly bounded up into the night sky. Rather than flying in a more traditional fashion, Masato instead stayed upright—seemingly hanging suspended in the air as he floated in a gentle, parabolic arc from the roof of the warehouse, over treetops, and towards the access road he had spied previously. With his thrusters glowing a soft blue, Masato slowly descended to the cracked, gravel surface of the road, coming to rest beside a slightly dilapidated looking wooden shed. The shed was open on one side, and moonlight shining through its rusted, hole-ridden, metal roof helped to reveal its sole occupant.

 

Huddled in the center of the shed, with knees folded up and head buried in her legs as she sobbed, was a young girl who looked no more than six or seven years old. The child was wearing a yellow, sleeveless, sailor-collared dress caked with splotches of mud, as well as pink shoes and a matching bow tying the girl's long brown hair back in a high ponytail. A small pug sat on the ground beside the girl, whimpering and occasionally tapping at the girl's leg with one forepaw, while a leash running from the dog's collar was tightly clutched in the girl's hands.

 

At the sound of Masato's approach, the pug turned, growled, and then jumped in front of the child before letting out a series of high-pitched barks. Feeling the tug on the leash and hearing the dog's barks, the little girl looked up with watery, olive eyes and a confused pout on her small face. Catching sight of the armored form of Masato looming above her in the dark, the child's eyes widened, and her mouth opened to let in a massive inhalation as she seemingly prepared to scream…

 

“Wait—it's okay!” Masato quickly exclaimed, bending over, and waving both hands in front of him. “I know I might look a little strange, but I'm not going to hurt you!”

 

The young girl paused with her mouth still ajar, blinking in response to Masato's hurried words and actions. After a moment, she hid behind her folded legs, her eyes still wide as she looked at Masato over her knees. Beside her, the pug continued to growl and let loose the occasional yip of warning.

 

Wanting to seem less imposing, Masato gradually lowered himself into a crouch (as much as his armor would allow) and rested his hands on his legs. “What's your name?” he asked in (what he hoped) was a soft and reassuring tone.

 

The little girl blinked again, then slowly raised her head so that her mouth was visible.

 

“Sa-Sa-Sachiko,” she stuttered in a small and shaky voice. [4]

 

“Sachiko … that's a cute name,” Masato said with a smile, and he was pleased to see a similar, smaller smile alight the other girl's face. “So, Sachiko-chan, what're you doing out here so late at night?”

 

Sachiko opened her mouth to reply, but then paused, her smile fading before she once again hid her mouth behind her legs. “My Daddy says that I'm not supposed to talk to strangers…” she mumbled shyly, resulting in a silent coo from Miku as Masato nodded sagely.

 

“Oh! Well, if that's the case, then I'm—” Masato began.

 

<Masato-kun!> Miku's voice interjected, causing Masato to wince while Sachiko tilted her head in confusion. <It wouldn't be wise to use your actual name. That knowledge might put this little girl in danger from Hau Dragon!>

 

Masato blinked, slowly mulling over Miku's hurried words, then gave a quick nod in understanding. After all, it was a common trope for the “bad guys” in many a story to use the protagonist's friends, family, or unlucky bystanders as a means of getting to them. Episode-long plots based around that very concept had happened all the time in the old superhero show Masato had spoken of to Miku…

 

Masato's eyebrows rose, and his lips twitched into a small grin—thinking about his favorite TV show (and similar shows he had watched when he was younger) had given him an idea! With Sachiko looking at him quizzically. Masato leaned forward, pushed against his knees, and stood fully upright. As the little girl stared on with wide eyes, the teen placed one hand on his hip, raised the other, and then pointed one outstretched finger up towards the sky

 

“I'm actually the Lovely Warrior, Zeorymer of the Heavens!” Masato proclaimed, raising the pitch of his (already high) voice as he continued: “Child of the Skies Above, and Protector of all on Earth Below!”

 

Both Sachiko and her dog blinked, then blinked again, with both tilting their heads slightly to one side as they simply stared up at Masato. Sweat began beading on Masato's brow, but he kept his pose and confident smile, though the latter was slowly becoming more strained.

 

“You're … you're a magical girl?” Sachiko finally asked, and with relief Masato nodded.

 

“That's right—I'm a magical warrior fighting for love and justice!” Masato said, winking as he made a two-fingered salute against his brow. Lowering himself back down to Sachiko's level, he added: “And that's why you can trust me, Sachiko-chan!” In response, Sachiko just tilted her head again.

 

“Umm … aren't magical girls supposed to be cute?” she asked after a beat, and the corner of Masato's eye twitched, his smile faltering ever so slightly.

 

`I know I'm not really a girl…' Masato thought to himself, paying no heed to Miku's silent fuming in the background, `But for some reason that still stings a little bit.'

 

“Wellllll … despite what you might see on TV, fighting evil by moonlight doesn't go so well if you're just wearing a tiara, leotard, and a miniskirt,” Masato replied with a somewhat toothy smile. “It doesn't matter how strong your magical powers are—you can still get hurt without more practical protection; you know?”

 

Sachiko only blinked in reply, causing even more sweat to form on Masato's forehead as he struggled to think of something he could say that might win the little girl over. Unfortunately, nothing immediately came to mind, resulting in a silent stare off between the two of them.

 

Meanwhile, during the brief impasse and unbeknownst to either human, Sachiko's dog had slowly made its way up to Masato's kneeling form. The pug briefly sniffed at the exposed skin beneath the folds of Masato's skirt, paused, and then licked at the teen's leg with its tongue. In response to the unexpectedly strong sensation of damp sandpaper against his skin, a shiver ran from the bottom of Masato's spine all the way up to the top of his head, leaving every one of his hairs standing on end. He quickly bit down on his lip to prevent letting out an involuntary squeal.

 

“Aww, Pugi likes you!” Sachiko cooed, her eyes bright and smile wide, and paying no heed to Masato's silent distress. “You must be a good person! He doesn't like anyone who isn't nice!”

 

“Y-you don't s-say…” Masato said shakily, his smile again strained as (the aptly named) Pugi continued to lick sloppily at his leg. Warily, Masato lowered one hand down, then used the sharpened tips of his fingers to gently scratch behind the pug's ears. After a few seconds, the pug's eyes rolled up, and with tongue hanging out Pugi slumped against Masato's hand in clear ecstasy. Masato and Sachiko shared a look, and the latter giggled while the former gave her a quick wink.

 

“So,” Masato ventured, “Now do you want to tell me what you're doing out here?”

 

Sachiko's smile fell a little, but after a moment she nodded. As if sensing his owner's distress, Pugi whined slightly, but calmed as soon as Sachiko started scratching him under his chin.

 

“I was getting ready for bed at Daddy's house. Pugi was waiting for me in my bedroom while I was brushing my teeth,” Sachiko said. “Then, there was this bright flash, and then some loud noises going `whump, whump, whump' outside. Pugi started barking, so I went to go look and see. The window was open `cause it was hot, and Pugi jumped off the bed and went right through it!”

 

Sachiko paused, looking down at the pug, who stared back with his own big brown eyes.

 

“Daddy wasn't home yet, so I got scared … I got Pugi's leash and went outside to find him … I could hear Pugi barking, so I followed where I heard, but I didn't look where I was going…” she continued, sniffing lightly as she bowed her head. “I … I caught up to Pugi he-here and got his le-leash on him. But then I … I di-didn't know how to g-get back h-home! E-even though I c-called for help, no-no-nobody came…”

 

Reaching out, Masato softly placed one hand on Sachiko's head, causing her to start and look up at him. The older “girl” smiled down at the younger one with gentle compassion.

 

“You're very brave, Sachiko-chan,” Masato said. “Pugi is lucky to have such a caring owner like you.”

 

Sachiko sniffed again, wiping her eyes and her nose with the back of her hand.

 

“He's my friend,” she said sincerely, and Masato nodded his head at the innocent wisdom.

 

“Of course … and we can't abandon our friends, can we Sachiko-chan?” he confirmed, and then stood upright, extending one open palm down to Sachiko. “And since you called out for help, here I am! So how about we get you home, hmm?”

 

In response, Sachiko's smile widened and grew bright. Reaching up, she took Masato's outstretched hand, and began to rise … only to wince and stumble as soon as she stood, though Masato's light grip on her arm prevented her from falling. At both of their feet, Pugi whimpered and whined with concern.

 

“Sachiko-chan?” Masato asked, still holding onto the smaller girl's hand as he again knelt to her level.

 

“My knee …” Sachiko said with a sniffle. “I … I tripped and hurt it when … when I was looking for Pugi.”

 

Reaching down, Sachiko pulled up the hem of her dress, revealing that one of her knees was scraped, bruised, and lightly bleeding. Masato winced sympathetically as he took in the injury, hissing through his teeth as he examined it.

 

`I'll bet that does hurt something fierce…' Masato thought. `It doesn't look like anything's broken, but it would be nice if I could patch it up or even heal it like I did my own injuries…'

 

Masato frowned, pausing in his examination of Sachiko as his last thought rolled over and over in his mind. After a brief internal debate, his lips pursed as he settled on a course of action. Taking the younger girl's hands in his own, he turned back to Sachiko, who met his now grinning visage with naive confusion.

 

“Sachiko-chan…” Masato said with measured glee. “Would you like for me to show you some of my magic?”

 

Sachiko's widened, and after a beat she began nodding her head vigorously, causing her ponytail to bob up and down like a windsock in a typhoon. Masato snorted but held back a full laugh at the young girl's enthusiasm so not to dampen her renewed cheer.

 

“Alright, then close your eyes …” Masato indicated, watching as Sachiko followed his instructions. “Fold your hands together … and say these magic words: `Heiki, hecchara.'”

 

“Heiki, hecchara…” Sachiko repeated, brows furrowed, and small face scrunched up in concentration.

 

“Keep saying the magic words … I'll let you know when to open your eyes,” Masato said. Carefully, he moved both of his hands so that they hovered just above Sachiko's injured knee. While Sachiko continued her recitation, Masato murmured as quietly as he could: “Miku-chan, I'm going to need your help here…”

 

The teen could almost feel the teasing smirk from Miku as her voice replied, <I believe I know what it is you're trying to do, Masato-kun. What you're thinking should be possible.>

 

Masato issued a quiet sigh of relief, allowing his mouth to twitch into the shadow of a smile.

 

<Envision what you want to occur as clearly as you can—I'll do my part to manage the flow of matter and energy from the Dimensional Coupler…> Miku directed, and Masato nodded in confirmation. Closing his own eyes and taking a deep breath, Masato focused all his attention on Sachiko's injured knee. All the while, Sachiko herself continued to obliviously repeat the so-called “magic words” with utmost seriousness.

 

“The pain is flying away…” Masato uttered, and after a moment both half-spheres atop his hands began emitting a gentle glow, the orb mounted in his chest doing the same in equal measure. Delicately, Masato touched Sachiko's injury with one of his gauntlets, lowering the other to rest against his own leg. Gradually, the glow from his gauntlets spread out and encompassed both body parts in a soft, waving light.

 

A minute passed between the pair, but eventually the light faded from Masato's palms. Letting out a held breath, Masato took a quick peak downwards, and then smiled with satisfaction. “You can open your eyes now, Sachiko-chan.”

 

Still reciting the so-called “magic words” as instructed, Sachiko paused at hearing Masato's voice, then opened her eyes, blinking with befuddlement at Masato's somewhat dopey smile. The teen briefly flicked his eyes down, and then looked back up to meet the child's gaze. After a moment, Sachiko likewise glanced down … to her completely healed and uninjured knee. Sachiko's brown eyes widened to the size of tea saucers, and with an open jaw she stared back up at Masato with amazement. [5]

 

“You are a magical girl!” Sachiko squealed. The younger girl then lunged forward, hugging the teen around the neck shamelessly as she bounced up and down with excitement. Unprepared for the sudden tackle, Masato was briefly taken aback, his body stiff as Sachiko continued her affectionate glomp; however, after a beat he relaxed—his muscles loosening as Masato shifted position and hugged the smaller girl back.

 

Separating from the embrace and pulling away, Masato held Sachiko loosely by her arms and looked straight in her eyes. His face took on a more serious and solemn cast.

 

“Now, I need for you to promise me that you'll keep what I just did a secret,” he said, extending and holding out one of his pinky fingers as he spoke. “Can you do that for me, Sachiko-chan?”

 

“Of course, Ze … Ze … Zeo-neesan!” Sachiko said eagerly, reaching out and shaking Masato's hand with her own extended digit. Masato blinked, blushing at the sudden title the younger girl had unabashedly bestowed on him. [6]

 

Unaware of Masato's bemusement, Sachiko continued: “You don't want bad guys to know about your magic, right? Then they might try to steal it!”

 

“Right … you're absolutely right!” Masato replied with a matching grin. Letting the girl go, he then lowered himself further, and then held out both of his arms, palms facing upward. “Come on, Sachiko-chan—let's get both you and Pugi home.”

 

The little girl's eyes widened, but then she nodded her head in understanding. Bending down, she scooped up the pug—clutching him lightly against her chest—then stepped up between Masato's outstretched arms. Gently, Sachiko lowered herself into a cradle atop Masato's armored gauntlets, and once she was in place, Masato slowly began rising back upright. He paused briefly mid-climb, wincing and groaning slightly as one of his knees buckled beneath him.

 

“Are you okay, Zeo-neesan?” Sachiko asked, her small face scrunched up with concern. Masato took a quick breath in-and-out, shifted slightly to take pressure off the offending appendage, and then forced a somewhat strained smile on his face.

 

“I'm fine, everything is okay!” Masato said with as much cheer as he could muster. Taking another breath, he pushed himself the rest of the way up until he was fully standing, Sachiko and Pugi both cradled securely in his arms. Closing his eyes, Masato focused, squatted down with his hips, and then leapt upward towards the night sky. As before, his thrusters fired and helped the three to quickly ascend above the treetops, then continued to hold them aloft as they lightly drifted in the direction of the village at the base of the mountain range.

 

Within minutes, the trio had cleared the remaining forest and sparsely populated outskirts of the town, settling into a hover in the sky above the modestly lit residential streets and businesses at the village's core. From her position in Masato's arms, Sachiko goggled at the sight of twinkling lights both above and below, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open as her gaze drifted over the scattered homes and buildings beneath them

 

“Does anything look familiar, Sachiko-chan?” Masato asked softly, frowning when the younger girl slowly shook her head.

 

“I'm sorry…” Sachiko responded unhappily. “I don't know what Daddy's house looks like from up high like this.”

Masato nodded sympathetically, and in Sachiko's arms Pugi whimpered and curled up against his owner's chest, offering his own form of support.

 

The armored teen began opening his mouth to offer some reassurance, but then paused as a sound from the ground below drifted up and tickled against his enhanced hearing. Furrowing his eyebrows, Masato concentrated and worked to hone on the quiet tone over the howl of the night air. Once he heard the sound again and was able to register it clearly, a smile slowly spread across Masato's face.

 

“Hey, Sachiko-chan …” Masato said, his bright tone drawing a curious stare from the little girl and dog in her arms. “Do you hear that?”

 

Sachiko screwed her eyes shut, scrunching her face as she worked to listen with all her might. In her arms, Pugi mirrored the girl's actions, tilting his head and lightly cocking one floppy ear.

 

“Sachiko—! Sa-chi- ko—!”

 

The younger girl's eyes shot open, and mouth wide she quickly turned to meet Masato's smiling gaze, saying, “That's Daddy! That's Daddy calling me!” Masato had to hold back a laugh at Sachiko's open wonderment.

 

“Well, let's take you to him then!” he said with a wink, issuing a chortle as Sachiko rapidly nodded her head up and down. Holding the small girl tight, Masato gently descended back down to earth, deliberately aiming for an empty backlot next to a darkened alleyway between two commercial buildings. As they descended, the voice calling Sachiko's name grew louder, more distinct, and more desperate in its tone.

 

Once they were securely on the ground, Sachiko hopped down from Masato's embrace, placed Pugi on the ground, and would have bolted down the alleyway towards the voice calling her name had Masato not lightly but firmly grabbed her by the wrist. Confused, Sachiko looked up at her rescuer, who met the younger girl's wide eyes with a serious expression.

 

“Sachiko-chan…” Masato said slowly. “Let's go check before you run out there, okay?”

 

Sachiko blinked rapidly, her flushed face showing the conflict between her desire to run to her Daddy and to listen to the Magical Girl. Eventually though, she nodded her head, letting Masato take her by the hand and walking at a more sedate pace (with Pugi trotting beside her) towards the other side of the alley. Pausing at the threshold, Masato flattened himself against one of the buildings, then poked his head out to look around—Sachiko and Pugi doing likewise beneath him.

 

Being as late in the night as it was, few of the storefronts were still open, though their signage and other forms of exterior lighting still managed to illuminate much of the street that they faced. While the area was generally deserted (save for the occasional figure wobbling along the sidewalk), a man dressed in causal garb could be seen racing up and down the street, both hands cupped to his mouth as he continually cried out: “Sachiko! Sachiko!”

 

Masato looked down at the child in question, who met the boy's gaze with a pout as she squirmed and wriggled anxiously at his hip. Cocking an eyebrow, Masato nodded his head towards the man racing along the road in silent questioning, which was answered by a furious series of nods by Sachiko. Answer received, Masato smiled, let go of the little girl's hand, and likewise nodded his head to her. Eyes wide, Sachiko turned to run, paused, gave Masato another quick hug, and then dashed out of the alley (with Pugi galloping along at her heals) towards the man who was still calling her name—his voice hoarse and warbling from the repetition.

 

“Daddy! Daaadddddyyyyyy!” Sachiko exclaimed.

 

Her voice drew the attention of the man in the road, causing him to pause and whip his head around towards the little girl's call. As he turned, the man's eyes enlarged as he spied Sachiko running towards him, her arms spread wide as Pugi ran alongside her. Bending down, the man likewise stretched his arms out and then pulled Sachiko close as the young girl leapt into her father's embrace. Standing up with Sachiko held tight, father and daughter cried, laughed, and twirled around—Pugi jumping up and down with equal excitement at the man's feet.

 

Meanwhile, safe from the shadows of the alleyway, Masato smiled with quiet satisfaction as he took in the heartwarming scene. While he continued to peer around the corner of the building, Masato began feeling a similar warmth emanate from the hexagonal enclosure on his chest.

 

<Well Masato-kun, you got to be a hero … just like you always wanted,> Miku's voice stated brightly, and Masato nodded.

 

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said with equal pride. Once again, he felt a tickling resonance from the orb on his chest.

 

<I have to say, you make for a very convincing magical girl…> Miku said teasingly. <Were those also shows you happened to watch when you were younger, or—?>

 

“Well, I think we're about done here, don't you, Miku-chan?!” Masato quickly interjected, his cheeks blooming red as sweat beaded on his forehead. Turning around, he began quickly shuffling back down the alley to the backlot where he had previously landed with Sachiko, limping slightly as he did so. “We should probably leave and find those here are find your Last Guardian friends—where were we supposed to meet them again?!” He could hear Miku chortling in response to his lame attempt at evasion.

 

<There's no need to feel ashamed, Masato-kun,> Miku's voice said reassuringly. <I thought it was very clever and endearing how you acted the part of a hero that a cute little girl like Sachiko-chan would identify with…> A small flicker of irritation briefly flared in Masato's chest before she added: <Though who is she to say that we aren't cute?!>

 

Now it was Masato's turn to laugh at his intangible partner's continued indignation.

 

“I doubt Sachiko meant anything by it, Miku-chan—aside from the fact that we don't exactly look like your classical magical girl,” Masato said with a chuckle. Pausing in his stride, Masato looked at the ground with a small smile. “In all honesty, I did watch a lot of magical girl shows when I was little… but that's only because my best friend back then was a huge fan, so I played along and watched because it made her happy…”

 

<Your … best friend?> Miku's voice inquired.

 

“Yeah, a little girl I sometimes spent time with…” Masato replied. “Her name was Yu—"

 

Masato speech cut short, and his eyes widened as a very familiar tingling pulse resonated against the base of his skull. Swinging his body around, Masato's vision quickly found the black military helicopter that he was only just now starting to hear, flanked on both sides by the three drone units from earlier that evening. Moreover, he saw that—in the time he had taken to turn—they had already launched a barrage of missiles in his direction!

 

Not wasting a second, Masato jumped and took off into the air—hoping he could rise fast enough to draw his pursuers away from the village. As a result of his sudden ascent, the missiles targeting Masato whooshed past him—slamming instead into the deserted backlot and exploding on impact. The smoke and dust thrown up from the blast quickly rose into the air, causing Masato to cough and close his eyes as his climb slowed. Though it was just for a moment, taking his gaze away from his attackers gave them the opening they needed, as the helicopter issued a hail of gunfire with its minigun and twin cannons while the drones likewise released a new salvo of micro missiles.

 

Unprepared for the massive onslaught, Masato was quickly pushed back by the barrage of bullets, then screamed as the micro missiles found and hit their mark. Stunned, concussed, and with his armor singed and smoking, Masato rapidly fell from the sky—landing in a heap on the country road running through the village, not far from the area he had just recently been observing.

 

“ZEO-NEESAN!!!”

 

Masato looked up groggily from his position on the ground—his ears ringing, blood dripping down his face, and blinking as his eyes struggled to focus. His tilted, double-visioned gaze settled on a small, blurry blob nearing him from down the road. As his vision cleared, the small figure resolved into the now recognizable form of Sachiko— hurrying towards him as quickly as her little legs would move, with Pugi nipping along at her heels. The man from earlier—Sachiko's father—was likewise running in his direction, once again frantically yelling his daughter's name.

 

“Sa-Sachiko … r-run…” Masato struggled to say, his voice raspy and warbling. He reached one hand out towards the girl still scampering towards him. “D-don't … don't c-come near…”

 

Masato's voice caught in his throat, and his eyes widened as he saw the Hau Dragon helicopter and trio of drones slowly angle into the sky behind Sachiko, Pugi, and Sachiko's father. The sounds of multiple propeller blades caused Sachiko to pause in her stride and turn around, her face scrunched and confused as she took in the sight of the sudden aerial intruders. The little girl's abrupt stop gave her father time to catch up, reach down, and scoop his daughter back up in his arms. Holding the child tight against his chest, Sachiko's father shifted his attention back-and-forth between the prostrate Masato, struggling to raise himself up from the ground, and the mechanized, heavily armed quartet in the air above.

 

Settling into a hover, the helicopter and drones brought their weapons to bear on Masato and the trio standing just in front of him. A moment passed, and then all four aircraft unleased their full gamut of weaponry at their targets below. Sachiko cried out in terror, Pugi barked, and with grit teeth Sachiko's father knelt and huddled against the pavement, doing his best to shield his daughter and her dog with his own body as the three awaited the inevitable. Within seconds, the missiles and gunfire exploded against the ground, once again sending dust and debris skyward as a cloud of smoke obscured the streets and sidewalk.

 

Gradually the dust settled and cleared … revealing a shimmering, translucent, spherical bubble of energy, sitting within a surrounding pile of broken asphalt and pavement from the previous assault. Masato stood at the sphere's center—one arm outstretched, and fingers splayed wide—while his eyes, the half-spheres on his gauntlets, and the matching orb on his chest mutually glowed with shining gold light. Just behind Masato, Sachiko's father was still curled on the ground with Sachiko and Pugi huddled against him—the three unharmed and the older man blinking up at the gleaming white, armored savior now looming over him.

 

After a moment, the sphere dissolved, and the light likewise faded from Masato's palms and chest piece. Lowering his arm, Masato shifted his position so that he was now fully facing the four aircraft, his body now acting as a shield for the crouching family behind him. As both Masato and the four aerial aggressors squared off and held their positions, it seemed that the boy-turned-girl and his pursuers were at an impasse.

 

Meanwhile, up and down the main road of the village, lights began turning on inside homes, windows were opened, and people in various stages of undress began slowly drifting out onto the sidewalk, drawn by the increased and very audible commotion just outside. Very quickly, a large crowd of onlookers flanked both sides of the road—whispering among themselves as they gawked at the standoff that would not have out of place from some sci-fi/action movie.

 

Still held tight in her father's grip, Sachiko wriggled and squirmed to better see what was happening. As soon as her eyes landed on Masato, her eyes ballooned out, and her face broke into a wide smile. She opened her mouth to speak, but then paused, the cheer in her face fading into one of uncertainty as she noticed the hard set of Masato's features. His brow was narrowed, teeth gritted, and lips pulled back in a snarling grimace as he glared up at the helicopter and trio of drones with eyes aglow.

 

Masato … was furious!

 

 

“I still don't understand anything that's happening…” Masato said, the words tense and hissing with as much venom as a viper. “Everything about this night has been pure insanity—I'm getting sick of it!”

 

 

“E-even so…” Masato continued, his fists clenched tight and lightly shaking at his sides, “It's fine, if you want to attack just me…”

 

`Use your aggressive feelings…'

 

“…but threatening the lives of innocent people?” he said, with his breathing becoming more rapid and heavy with each passing word. Gradually, Masato's fists rose until they were chest high and facing out—the half-spheres on his palms pulsing at a slowly increasing pace. “That…”

 

 

“That…”

 

`Become the Hades Maiden, Zeorymer…' [7]

 

“That…is unforgivable!” Masato screamed, slamming both his fists together in front of his chest, as the orbs on his gauntlets and chest piece ignited with burning white light.

 

`—and tear open the gates of the Underworld!'

 

Time stopped, and all sound in the immediate area—the mechanical whomping of propeller blades, the soft murmurs of the townspeople, and even the gentle rustle of the night breeze—seemed to fade away as a heavy, smothering, silence settled over the area. As the trinity of orbs on Masato's armor continued to blaze with blinding intensity—slowly, gradually, a new mysterious sound could be heard. It started as a low rumble, seemingly emanating from the very air itself, and its deep resonance caused shivers and gooseflesh to spread among the gathered populace. The baritone pulse quickly grew louder and more booming in its timbre, with the air and ground beginning to quake at a progressively more intense pace. After reaching a thunderous level of volume, the sound paused, and then a new intonation was issued, with the twin roars combining to form a single, uttered word:

 

 

As the bellowing vocalization faded, it was replaced by the roar of rushing wind and a vision of blinding light—both radiating outward from the white armored “magical girl” standing in the middle of the road. Travelling as a translucent, spherical wall of kinetic force, the glowing wave of energy rapidly spread out and upward—seemingly growing stronger and faster the further it moved—as people were knocked off their feet, fissures sprouted in the concrete and pavement, and windows and light fixtures shattered with the tinkling of glass and bursts of ozone. Still hovering above the town, the attacking helicopter and three aerial drones gallantly tried to maintain their positions against the unyielding swell of destructive energy, but eventually gave way as they were pushed past their tolerances—crumpling against themselves with a screech of shearing metal before exploding in successive airborne fireballs when their onboard fuel ignited. A cloud of smoke filled the sky over the town, and as small bits of smoldering ash and metal rained down from above, gradually the air was filled by the sounds of moans, grunts, and various cries for help as the town's residents slowly came back to their senses.

 

Still standing atop an intact, circular patch of pavement in the now devastated town road, the burning light slowly faded away from Masato's eyes and gauntlets, with the orb in his chest piece likewise settling into a gentler glow. As his arms gradually lowered and settled at his sides, Masato blinked multiple times, his face wrinkled up in a combination of confusion and horror as he slowly took in the scale of the ruin around him. When his gaze eventually met the angry, frightened, or pained looks of the various townspeople, the teen couldn't help but flinch, averting his eyes as his face flushed with shame.

 

Turning his body, Masato's gaze fell on the three figures he had been aiming to protect, still huddled against the intact patch of roadway behind him. Sachiko and her father were looking up at Masato with wide, trembling stares, though Sachiko's look seemed mostly confused, while the furrowed, trembling brows of her father screamed of agitation and anxiety. Bending down, Masato reached out a hand to offer help, only to have Sachiko's father flinch away from his claw-tipped grasp and tighten his protective embrace around his daughter and her dog—the latter two whimpering lightly beneath the older man's grasp. Startled, Masato stood upright with both arms raised and palms open in a pacifying gesture. His eyes began growing moist as he slowly backed away from the cowering trio.

 

“I-I'm s-sorry…” Masato uttered chokingly. His eyes drifted upwards, then travelled back-and-forth across the townspeople lining both sides of the road. Their angry glares and hateful murmurs bore into him like a thousand needles pricking his skin. “I'm so sorry … I … I d-didn't mean to…”

 

Unable to say more, Masato spun around and leapt upwards—his thrusters kicking in and quickly carrying him off into the night sky. As he ascended, Masato could still feel the gazes of the people below following him as he fled the scene. One set of eyes in particular were engraved in the forefront of his consciousness—a pair of olive-brown set in a small, innocent face, whose hesitant expression asked more questions than Masato could rightly answer…

 

Elsewhere, in a dim room lined with control panels and lit by the glow of multiple video screens, a seated figure slammed his fist down on the thick metal armrest of his cushioned chair.

 

“What happened?! What's going on?!” the man demanded. Ahead of him, multiple seated figures in uniform jumpsuits typed away furiously at their respective keyboards.

 

“Unknown—Alfa-1 isn't responding, and all three drone units are offline,” one of the technicians eventually responded, the screens in front of him crackling with static as he continued to rapidly type commands into his console in vain.

 

“Satellite units are still tracking HKS-01A,” another technician chimed in, his fingers dancing with equal ferocity across his keyboard. “The wielder has left the town center and is currently travelling east towards the Inokashira mountain range. Plotting her current course suggests that she's returning to the warehouse where Alfa-1 and Alfa-2 first made contact.”

 

“As ordered, Alfa-2 is holding 10 klicks north on the opposite side of Mount Kenashi,” yet another technician relayed, swiveling around in her chair to face her superior while holding a headset against her ear. “They're awaiting instructions, General.”

 

General Kozo Golshid, leader of the Hau Dragon Operations Division, grimaced as he pondered the various status updates, considering his available options. Leaning forward, he steepled his hands in front of his mouth as his gaze drifted over the numerous digital maps and readout projections.

 

“Mobilize Alfa-2 and have them move to intercept HKS-01A,” Golshid eventually ordered. “If the gods are willing, we'll catch the relic wielder by surprise and incapacitate her before she can launch another counterattack.”

 

“Sir, what about the JSDF mobile units we've been tracking out of Narusawa?” one of the technicians asked. “If they maintain their current ground speed, they'll likely arrive at the AO at roughly the same time as Alfa-2.”

 

“It doesn't matter—our priority is the retrieval of the stolen baguayi,” Golshid stated with a furious shake of his head. “Everything else is of no consequen—”

 

“General, I'm sorry, but we just lost the signal from HKS-01A!” one of the technicians exclaimed. “Our tracking satellites had a clear lock on the relic's UDS signature, but then it just vanished!

 

“Damn it all!” Golshid howled, once again slamming his fist down on his armrest. “The wielder must have unequipped the baguayi!” He paused a moment, seemingly considering his options as he leaned and rested one hand on his cheek. “Well, she won't get far … scramble Alfa-2 and have them—"

 

“Sir, Alfa-2 is disengaging from its holding area and plotting a return to base!” one of the technicians interjected. Turning to the visibly incensed Golshid, the man's voice seemed uncertain as he added: “They … they're saying that they received a recall order … Priority One.”

 

A chill ran down Golshid's spine as the implications of that statement set in; however, before he could open his mouth to reply, another technician turned around to face him, holding a handset against one ear.

 

“General, it's … it's the President,” the technician said, her voice wavering. “They … they want a status report as soon as possible.”

 

Gulping, but doing his best to keep his composure, Golshid gave a curt nod to the technician. Standing up from his chair, he smoothed out the ceremonial robes of office he bore, draping down from a massive, ornamented mantle encasing his neck and shoulders. His motion caused all the technicians in the room to pause their activity, turn, and give General Golshid their full attention.

 

“Please inform the President that I'm on my way—their Excellency deserves to hear about tonight's operation in-person,” he stated to the technician who had spoken to him. Stepping away from his chair, Golshid turned and began to leave, but then paused in his gait. Swirling back around, Golshid pointed at the still-active monitors and readouts with a gloved hand. “Keep monitoring that inbound JSDF unit—I want a detailed report of their every movement to and from the area of operations!”

 

“Yessir!” the technicians chorused, swiveling back around in their chairs to carry out the General's orders. Satisfied with the response, Golshid allowed himself a small smirk before he again turned around and purposely strode out of the monitoring room, his mantle swirling around him like a velvety pair of wings.

 

As the pneumatic doors closed behind him, Golshid allowed his confident demeanor to wane as he walked down the brightly lit corridor to the nearest lift, thoughts swirling around his mind like errant bumblebees. He paid no heed to the various uniformed staff members and subordinates he passed along the way, answering their respectful greetings with a combination of quick nods and grunts, and broadcasting a clear message that he was not to be bothered.

 

Entering a vacant lift, Golshid pressed a button for the desired floor, and then swiped a reinforced keycard through a reader, as his destination was restricted to invitation only. As the lift began its ascent, Golshid turned and looked through the smoked glass walls of the cylinder to the nighttime vista beyond. For the first time that evening, he allowed his body to sag as he released a long-held sigh.

 

`What a colossal mess…' Golshid thought with irritation. `This was supposed to be a simple recovery mission—but nothing about what happened tonight was detailed in any of the intelligence briefings! How did the JSDF get involved? Why were they at Professor Akitsu's house at the same time as we were? And how did they have another candidate compatible with “Heaven”? Only Tekkoryu should have access to candidates with the necessary qualifications to wield a baguayi!'

 

A chime sounded as the lift reached its destination on the top floor of the building, pulling Golshid from his thoughts. Turning around, he exited the lift into a less utilitarian and more ornately decorated hallway, with alternating tiles of marble flooring, walls decorated in rich tones of crimson and gold, and soft artificial lighting reminiscent of candles or torches illuminating from hidden sconces. Various pieces of art and antiquities, including painted scrollwork, armored suits, and decorative pottery lined the walls along the passage, though Golshid paid these priceless artifacts no mind as he strode down the hallway.

 

`More to the point…' Golshid continued to ponder, `How was a likely untrained wielder able to dispatch the bioroids we sent so easily? Those combat models were supposed to be the latest spec, according to those fossils down in the Science Division…'

 

Golshid stopped as he reached a tall pair of engraved wood doors at the end of the hallway. He reached up to knock, only to have the door slowly swing away from his fist and open on its own accord. Beyond the open entry, Golshid could hear the crackling of a fireplace and the faint smell of something sweet.

 

“Come in, General Golshid,” a voice from inside the room uttered smoothly.

 

Gulping, Golshid took a moment to gather himself—straightening his posture, smoothing out his cloak, and adopting as professional a demeanor as he could muster. After taking a deep breath, Golshid then confidently crossed the threshold and entered the inner sanctum of the Hau Dragon President.

 

Compared to the hallway outside, the circular room he now entered was simpler and almost austere in its design, with unadorned stone walls and a plain, low-pile, carpeted floor. Just off one wall sat a thick, wooden desk with a built-in monitor and keyboard, as well as a thickly bolstered leather chair placed just behind it. Multiple bookshelves filled with various portfolios, scrolls, and leather-bound volumes were built into recessed alcoves lining the perimeter of the room. The wall opposite the desk held an inset, brightly lit fireplace, with two large, high-backed, winged armchairs facing it and sitting atop a colorful, worn, Persian-style rug. The far wall, directly across from Golshid, had the room's sole decoration—a massive, circular tableau depicting the snarling head of a dragon, in harsh relief and almost lifelike detail.

 

Spying a side table with glassware and an open bottle of wine atop it beside one of the armchairs, Golshid quickly moved towards the seating area, fell to one knee, and placed one outstretched fist on the ground. “Your Excellency,” he said with head bowed.

 

A slender hand with long, manicured fingers, brandishing a glass of blood-red wine, peaked out from behind the wings of the armchair.

 

“Report, General,” the same voice from earlier spoke, its inflection still rich and smooth— evidently belonging to the Hau Dragon President.

 

“We … we lost `Heaven,' your G-Grace,” Golshid said, struggling not to stammer. “I … I take full responsibility for this blunder. It was my operational plan from the start, and though there were many unforeseen variables which hampered the execution, it ultimately rests on me to—”

 

“Oh, stop that, Kozo,” the President cut in, another hand emerging from inside the chair and waving back-and-forth in a dismissive manner. “Enough with the self-effacement—it's unbecoming of our organization's greatest tactical mind.”

 

“B-but your Excellency, I—”

 

“We both know that the data assembled for your operation did not account for the presence of a fully awakened relic…” the President continued, pausing briefly to audibly sip from the wine glass. “Once `Heaven' was active and in play, the troopers you sent to retrieve it had no chance of success. Our current generation of agents and combat bioroids can barely offer a challenge to our own baguayi wielders … how then could they hope to defeat a wielder of a baguayi powered by a true Dimensional Coupler?”

 

The hand holding the wine glass reemerged, and slowly set the fluted chalice down on the side table. “Still, by all accounts tonight's events proved a good demonstration of `Heaven's' potential, wouldn't you agree?” the President remarked, causing Golshid to blanch as various implications from that statement flitted through his mind.

 

“Th-that may be t-true, your Grace…” Golshid said carefully, keeping his head bowed to hide his distemper. `B-but if you knew this might happen, why was I not briefed on…?” His question died off as laughter suddenly emerged from behind the armchair.

 

“Oh Kozo, you give me too much credit!” the President chortled with amusement. “Regardless, while the awakening of `Heaven' may have accelerated some of the timetables for our scenario, our primary objective—the completion of the “Hades Project”—will continue as scheduled…” Golshid could almost feel the smirk on the President's face as the hidden voice stated, “All is proceeding as I have foreseen.”

 

“Your wisdom is overwhelming as usual, your Excellency,” Golshid commented with almost genuine sincerity. “And what of the civilians who saw `Heaven' in action? Or the JSDF units currently enroute to the wielder's last location?”

 

“They are of no concern,” the President replied, once again waving a hand dismissingly. “While it is … unfortunate that our forces put in such a visible showing tonight—”

 

Golshid winced, but kept his head bowed low.

 

“—it is likely that the JSDF, or moreover whoever or whatever opposing force is backing them, will do our work for us by silencing any witnesses to tonight's activities,” the President continued. “True, their methods will probably not be as … permanent, as what you or I might prefer, but I suppose we will just have to make do…”

 

Golshid gulped, struggling to think of something he could do to save face and salvage some of his likely diminished status after tonight's proceedings. Caught up in his thoughts, Golshid did not notice as a hand reached out from the armchair and pressed a button imbedded in a console on the side table. A moment later, a hidden doorway set into one of the room's walls opened. The scraping sound of sliding stone and grinding mechanics led Golshid to glance over in confusion … before he quickly turned away to hide his furious scowl.

 

`Lingam! What's that bootlick doing here?!' Golshid screamed internally. Behind him, a mustached man dressed in similar robes stepped out of the hidden doorway, gliding smoothly over to the pair of armchairs before kneeling alongside Golshid.

 

“Your Excellency,” General Lugius Lingam crooned, casting a slanted look over to a seething Golshid, who kept his own gaze downward with teeth gritted. “What do you command of me?” [8]

 

“General Lingam, take charge of briefing the Hakkeshu on the latest developments concerning `Heaven.' Have them deployed on rotating patrols in anticipation of `Heaven's' eventual reemergence—neither the Hero nor the Dragon will be able to resist one another's call for long…” the President ordered, “And if nothing else, tonight's events have shown that the only power that likely has a chance of successfully challenging an awakened baguayi … is another baguayi.”

 

“As you command, your Grace, it will be done at once,” Lingam said oily. Casting another glance at Golshid and catching the latter's eye, he added with a sneer, “I'll be sure to instruct the Hakkeshu to remain circumspect—I imagine you don't want any more attention drawn to us than has been already…”

 

“Your Excellency! I must protest!” Golshid proclaimed, leaping to his feet as he spoke. Taking one step towards the armchair, he placed one hand against his chest, saying, “As the head of the Operations Division, it should be my responsibility to coordinate any tactical plans—”

 

“Need I remind you, General Golshid, the activities of the Hakkeshu do not fall under your privy,” the President calmly interjected, waving one finger in a `tut-tut' motion from behind the chair. “Beyond the … personal conflict of interest you have, the Hakkeshu are by design their own separate administrative unit—outside the direct authority of any other organizational division. As co-lead of the Command Group and head of the Logistics Division, General Lingam is a better fit to function as their overseer.”

 

Chastened, Golshid grimaced and bowed his head, his face flushed as resumed his kneeling stance on the floor. Beside his fellow general, Lingam hid a leer behind his mustache.

 

“For the time being, I believe your skills and knowledge would best be served working alongside the Science Division towards the development of the next generation of combat bioroids,” the President stated. “Take whatever data you managed to acquire from the encounter this evening—I'm sure that Professor Lurahn and his fellow scientists are just itching to get their hands on it.”

 

Head still bowed, Golshid clenched his teeth and nearly had to bite down on his tongue to keep from screaming at the disgrace he was receiving.

 

“A-as always, I am y-yours to command, your Grace,” Golshid said shakily, growling slightly as he heard a muffled snigger from beside him.

 

“Excellent! Then you both are dismissed…” the President said airily, reaching out to again grasp the wine glass before disappearing behind the armchair once more.

 

In tandem, Golshid and Lingam stood, bowed towards the back of the armchair, and then turned around to walk towards the main exit to the chamber. As they marched shoulder-to-shoulder, the two men locked eyes with one another—sparks seeming to fly between their gazes.

 

“This isn't over Lingam! I won't suffer such indignities for long!” Golshid muttered sotto voce between clenched teeth, resulting in a toothy grin from his companion.

 

“Enjoy your visit with those museum pieces down in the basement…” Lingam replied, his smile spreading the curved tips of his mustache. “Do be sure to dust away the cobwebs while you're down there!”

 

Any further exchanges between the pair were cut off as they swiftly made their way out of the room. As the heavy wood and metal door latched close, a gentle quiet settled over the spartan chamber—interrupted only by the crackling of burning wood in the fireplace and the occasional sound of liquid being swallowed. A few minutes passed by before the calm was broken by a dulcet chuckle from behind the armchair.

 

Placing the wine glass back down the side table, the Hau Dragon President slowly rose with the rustling of silk and the tinkling jingle of various pieces of jewelry. Stepping away from the fireplace, the President sauntered over to one of the bookcases lining the room, studying the volumes briefly before selecting and pulling out a leather-bound notebook. Rapidly flipping through the volume, the President paused on a particular page, then reached in and pulled out a photograph from a plastic casing inside. Lidded eyes beneath heavy lashes scrutinized the picture, which showed a baby lying in a plastic bassinet, swaddled in a blue blanket, with the faintest whisps of black hair growing on its head. Thick lips spread wide as they silently recited the child's name, written in ink at the bottom of the photograph: `Masato (6/3/84).'