Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Oersted could not believe it.

He had… lost? To this ruffian?

Not to his dear friend Streibough, who had also fallen in defeat, but to this strange man Oersted had never heard of until now?

“We have our finals!” The minister shouts. “Lucrece, cheer! Armstrong, the worthy adversary is victorious! And at east, Watt of Nabe, brute of strength, endures!”

Oersted glances at his fallen friend, then to Princess Alethea, who has a smile forced upon her face.

Guards appear and forcefully drag the injured Oersted and Streibough away to be treated, eliminating them from the tournament for the Princess’s hand.

What went wrong? Had he not trained enough? He and Streibough were two of the strongest of noble blood in all of Lucrece. How did it end up this way? Oersted can certainly believe that he lost, perhaps in a moment of distraction, but for Streibough to fall to a mere thug? Outsiders of Lucrece?

Just who were these men? Oersted had not heard of Armstrong or Watt until now.

He feels his consciousness slipping from the blood loss…

Alethea is forced to sit and smile, listening to her father’s speech before watching these burly men fight each other.

They seem to be muttering amongst themselves before one of them goes on an all-out attack, rendering the other defenseless. It’s over in the blink of an eye, and underwhelming conclusion to an unfortunate tournament.

If it had been the other two young men, she wouldn’t wholly mind. Word passed about Oersted and Streibough, how they were good men. She could tolerate marrying one of them, even if it was against her wishes.

This though? A man twice her age?

The ruffian steps forward and bows to her. The man named Watt of Nabe was victorious in winning her hand. The minister was cheering about it like nothing was wrong and the victory over someone’s life should be celebrated.

“Rejoice, Lucrece— your champion is crowned! Watt of Nabe! Approach and kneel before the king!”

There is a pit in her stomach. Alethea feels sick. She wants to get up, excuse herself, and run away from this situation, but that isn’t how princesses are supposed to act.

“Come Alethea. Have you naught to say?”

Oersted lays in recovery, watching Streibough’s distraught expression, trying his best to comfort his friend.

Apparently, Streibough had desperately wanted to win. He genuinely loved Alethea. Something Oersted partly knew, but could not fully allow due to just how much he cared for his old friend. He knew that the kingdom would easily use Streibough. Not to imply that his friend was weak, but rather…

He can hear the doctors mumbling. Apparently Armstrong, despite losing, barely had a scratch upon him save for a few bruises. A short, unknown figure came along and quickly demanded that Armstrong be released from the medical room.

“I’m a failure.”

Oersted turns his head to Streibough, who buries his head in his pillow.

“The one thing I had my heart set on, that I promised my family, and I failed.” Streibough goes into a fetal position. “Losing to you, I could understand. I can fathom I won’t ever be as good as you. But to lose to a ruffian.” He laughs quietly, choked by a sob. “I truly am weak and pathetic.”

…

He would not abide by this. Oersted knows something is wrong. Once he convinced Streibough to not think of himself so lowly, Oersted would prove it.

Alethea stands on the castle balcony, the sky pitch black, and her husband-to-be is right behind her.

She swallows hard, expecting the worst as Watt approaches her, practically towering over her smaller frame.

“What do you wish from me, dear husband?” She knows she cannot— is not allowed to— fight him off.

He just stares at her and grins.

“Don’t worry, I’m not actually interested in playing the part of your husband.” His accent is unusual. “I told your father just moments ago. The captain shall make haste.”

Captain? Alethea gets a closer look at this man’s attire—

“I have ye now, brat of Lucrece!”

She screams as a smaller individual had managed to scale the castle, grabbing her from behind. A diamond is wedged in this unknown person’s eye and they have a gap in their teeth.

“Excellent work, Watt!”

“'Tis nothing, captain! Armstrong and I got rid of those other finalists with ease!”

A band of thieves!? The tournament was rigged by having two thieves enter!? Alethea would make sure to have that minister executed once her father found out about this.

The pirate captain immediately ties the princess by her arms. “Worry not, princess.” The captain explains. “'Tis all in the name of vengeance. For everything Lucrece had taken from Vanda, I shall hold you ransom until they surrender!” They haul her away like she’s merely a sack of grain. “Come! We make our way to Archon’s Roost so they meet our demands!”

News of the Princess’s capture came. Oersted and Streibough quickly put themselves out to find her. The minister was jailed for his mistake, while the King remained on his throne, hesitant to reveal Lucrece’s past of colonization and crusades.

Apparently, the name of Armstrong and Watt’s superior was Captain Schera. The three of them were a gang of thieves from another capital kingdom. They often traveled the ocean to raid boats from Lucrece, but no one had ever suspected that they would actually attempt to enter the tournament for Alethea’s hand in marriage.

Streibough went from self-pitying to beyond infuriated. Oersted shared that sentiment, but remained calm, knowing that mindless rage could be used against them. They were tasked with carrying riches from the castle store room, a bait to lure the thieves into a false sense of security. Although, if all else went wrong, they would have no choice but to surrender the riches in exchange for Alethea’s freedom.

… her extremely limited freedom, now that Oersted thought about it. If she were truly free, she would have denied the victor's hand in her marriage from the start.

They ascended to Archon’s Roost to make the exchange.

But they would never return.

Chapter Text

After a long day, the Kuu Tribe sets their camp in the middle of the wilderness, as suggested by the leader of their clan.

Things had been difficult recently. The opposing tribe had driven them out. A wicked siren, a temptress of some kind, had driven them to maddening greed. They now tore apart the beasts that roamed the lands, leaving nothing behind for the Kuu Tribe. This meant they had to move further away in order to find resources.

But the siren would catch up eventually. Her greed knew no end and she had the other tribe wrapped around her finger. Especially now that their previous leader had passed away.

The Kuu Chief decides to settle down on a pile of straw that had already been there before his arrival. There are strange stones buried with it, and he doesn’t exactly have the strength to move them with how long he had been walking.

He’d move the stones out of the way tomorrow morning. Perhaps they would make for good tools to help in the hunt.

The sun rises, peeking down into the Kuu Chief’s eyes.

Something begins to tug at his codpiece. He immediately stirs awake, startled by the sudden attack on his nether parts. Directly staring at his face was a pair of yellow eyes with slit pupils.

He blinks. The eyes blink back. He soon finds there are two other pairs of eyes staring at him.

The Kuu Chief then comes to the horrible realization that he had not been sleeping on a pile of straw with stones at all. It was a nest full of eggs. Dinosaur eggs. Which should have been impossible considering all the giant reptiles were nothing but bones by now.

His stomach growls. He contemplates fighting back and devouring these hatchlings. The Kuu Chief takes a step back, only for the three hatchlings to start following him. They weren’t completely defenseless, he knew that much, that’s why it was so weird that these little ones didn’t rip him apart right away.

He takes a few more steps and they start making this chirping cry. One of them tumbles out of the nest to try to follow him.

Oh no.

The dinosaur babies had imprinted on him.

Now he definitely couldn’t just kill them for food! It would weigh on his conscience if he did that!

Perhaps the rest of the tribe would understand? Then again, with how hard it had been to gather resources thanks to the other tribe, why would they…

Wait. That’s right, these little dinosaurs were apex predators! They were natural hunters, weren’t they? Perhaps if the Kuu Chief taunt them how to hunt faster than any human could, the food resources could be shared.

He smiles at the little hatchlings, and gently picks one of them up, beckoning the other two to follow him.

There was initial hesitation in the Kuu Tribe, but once the Chief explained his plan and the hatchlings recognized the other humans weren’t threats, things seemed to be okay.

A test run was done on small moles hiding in the caves. The Kuu Chief started first, killing one of the moles, but rather than eating it, he brings it back to the rest of the tribe to be skinned and cooked.

Repeating this action eventually got it through to the hatchlings. After having their fill from devouring the moles on sight, they started bringing them back.

One of the hatchlings almost got a bone stuck in its throat. The Kuu Chief panicked and fished it out. He had to admit, he was getting attached to these little guys. They were rather adorable. The other Kuu Tribe members seemed to be in agreement. Zaki in particular actively tried to teach ‘fetch’ to the babies in exchange for more treats they could save for later.

The babies had started to grow, so the Kuu Chief decided it was time to target larger prey, such as wild dogs and stags.

He wonders to himself, what will happen if the babies become too big? Will they finally set their sights on the tribe?

The Kuu Chief hopes it doesn’t come to that. There’s a strange feeling in his chest he cannot describe when the hatchlings look at him.

Mumbling spreads. The temptress is not sated and plans to make her move towards the land they had settled in.

The hatchlings had completely four times the size of the humans but still did not view them as food. When the opposing tribe arrived with apes on their side, the three dinosaurs effectively scare them all away with a single roar, wanting to protect the human family they had grown with.

The invading tribe retreats, intent on returning with their ‘queen’.

At daybreak, the opposing tribe leader appears. His face is smeared with blood and his hair is as green as the lush lands that had been torn asunder. Carried by other cavemen in a wooden throne, sits a woman with violet hair, her body decorated with bones.

Before the dinosaurs can even go after the opposing tribe, the siren begins to sing. The noise she makes them all wince, her voice is a pitch that they cannot handle.

They fall, and the other cavemen start attacking him.

The Kuu Chief watches in horror as the babies he raised are struck and beaten.

“L… lo…”

His feelings are about to burst, he lunges forward when he sees one of the cavemen holding a spear, snatching it from the opposer’s hands and smacking him away.

“LOVE!”

The Kuu Chief practically goes on a rampage to save the dinosaurs. Even though they were a different species than him, the Chief had come to love them as his very own! This was no longer about defending themselves over resources, it became personal when that siren hurt his children!

He would not let her or the young, arrogant tribe leader get away with it. His fellow tribesmen join him, equally infuriated to see members of their family attacked. While the Kuu Chief targets the main enemy leaders, the rest of the tribe protects their adopted family.

The deed is done. The siren has fallen and so had the opposing tribe leader. The dinosaurs happily feast on what’s left of them.

The rest of the enemy tribe seems to be confused as if they were all in some sort of trance. Truly, they had all just been hypnotized by their ‘queen’, save for their young, green-haired leader that actively participated in these events.

The Kuu Chief is willing to forgive them, but only after some time, perhaps.

… he knew it had to come to an end.

He knows he has to let his babies roam free. Especially when he sees a giant figure in the distance, returning to her nest.

The three dinosaurs seem confused when the Kuu Chief tries to shoo them away. He wants them to go on, live what’s left of their life and see what else is out there in the world! If they weren’t all extinct, then they deserved to be out there with their own kind, not trapped with humans.

“Love,” he repeats.

That’s right. They wouldn’t forget each other.

Maybe cold-blooded creatures didn’t fully understand it, but the Kuu Chief believed all living things felt love.

Chapter Text

Chan, Xian, and Lin. The three sisters were forced to make a living for themselves by various means after their mother passed away.

They never resorted to stealing. No, they always tried to make an honest living as waitresses, hunters, or merchants. Chan usually worked in restaurants, Xian hunted beasts, and Lin tried to make a living off of selling weapons.

But despite these efforts, none of them were happy. Things just weren’t the same without their mother, Yawen. A beautiful, caring woman like no other who always believed her daughters were capable of anything if they put their hearts to it.

One day, a man with lavender hair speaks up to Chan as she’s on her usual shift.

“Excuse me,” he asks Chan as she’s serving tea, “are you one of Yawen’s daughters?”

She stops pouring.

“My name is Lee,” he introduces himself. “I was a friend of your mother’s. She said she wanted me to look after the three of you when she was no longer around.”

Was this a trick? Many times before, Chan had been told, usually by men, that they were friends with her mother or sister, usually in an attempt to get her alone. Just about every time, she had to kick their ass for it.

“Your sister was trying to sell me your mother’s jade dragon.”

What!?

She was going to kill Lin once they all got back home!

Lee then holds the jewel dragon out. “She offered an outrageous price for something priceless,” he sighs. “But I decided to buy it to let you know. You three are free to stay with me if you’re struggling that badly with finances.”

He then hands the jade dragon charm back to Chan, finishes his meal along with his tea, and gives Chan a hearty tip after paying.

Just who was this man?

She tells Xian about what happened, who is equally pissed at their youngest sister and takes more immediate action in punishing Lin for her greed. She argues that she was on her last limb since no one was buying weapons or other clothing items, but Chan retorted that it was the last thing they had of their mother.

“So who was this guy? Did he look strong?” Xian asks, climbing up the mountain with her sisters. Out of the three of them, she was a bit sluggish but knew the woods like the back of her hand.

“He said his name was Lee. He lives somewhere up here and we’re allowed to come and stay with him—”

“Sounds like you fell for another scam!” The youngest sister, Lin, can pick up on con artists quite easily. Not that she was above scheming in the slightest, it took one to know one.

“No, he sounded serious! If he was fooling us, he wouldn’t have known how special the dragon charm was to our mother!” Chan walked with such a ladylike posture, being the oldest left her as the responsible figure of the three.

Finally, they come to a stop and see a grand palace.

“Welcome!” Lee greets them along with various martial artists. “This is the school of the Indomitable Fist!”

“What?!” Lin gasps. “You’re a martial artist teacher!?”

“Indeed,” Lee chuckles. “Sorry for hiding that from you earlier. Your mother once trained with me in the art of the Indomitable Fist. Since its Shifu has passed on, I am now its master.” He then rubs the back of his head. “Pardon me if it seems as if I am bragging. I just hoped it ‘wow’ you three into staying and training like your mother had—”

“We’ll take it!” Xian yells without any approval from the other two.

“It’s a free stay, right?” Lin asks. “Free food too? No worrying about selling stuff on the streets for a living?”

“You will have no need for that any longer,” Lee confirms.

Chan looks at the jade dragon, and then back at him. She decides to go along with it, only because the whole scenario creates more questions than answers.

Weeks passed, and the three sisters underwent intense training with Lee as their instructor. They had all gotten attached to him too as if he were the family member they never knew they had.

Although, Chan’s feelings were a bit more complicated. This man said he was friends with their mother, but he appeared to be the same age as the three of them, didn’t he? Perhaps older by only a few years. And recently, he had focused his training entirely on Chan even though she was the oldest.

“Why do you keep putting your attention on me?” Chan asks, fixing her braid of purple hair.

Lee raises his head from his tea. “You’re very similar to your mother,” he says with a smile. “You have that maternal energy she shared with me when I first came to the Indomitable Fist. However, you are far more dainty than your sisters, I’ve noticed.”

“I am not dainty,” she pouts and blushes. “I know how to defend myself just fine!”

“Ah, well, let me clarify a bit then.” He chuckles before clearing his throat. “The middle sister, Xian, is an excellent hunter. She is bulky and strong, already aware of several techniques. She’s even stronger than some of the students that have been here longer! She simply needs to concentrate on her strength. And Lin, I noticed she can manipulate ki on top of being quite feisty, no doubt from dealing with potential swindlers.”

Lee finishes his tea and puts the cup down.

“But you work as a waitress. Your sisters tell me you get taken advantage of.” She flinches upon hearing this. “You have the full potential for strength and speed that needs to be unlocked, just like how your mother and my Shifu helped me unlock my true potential.”

…

What an unusual man.

The worst thing that could have happened just occurred.

Chan came back from her job as a waitress, the palace had been set aflame.

Xian and Lin, her two younger sisters— her last living family members— did not survive. The same applied to a majority of the Indomitable Fist students. They had all perished. No one had been left alive, except for—

“Lee!” Chan cries out, finding his body. “Stay with me, Lee! I can’t lose you too!”

His breathing was rigid.

“Chan, I’m so sorry,” Lee chokes. “I took you and your sisters in to protect you, to teach you martial arts… just as your mother had learned them to protect me from similar circumstances in the past. But I failed.”

“No, no you didn’t, please stay with me, Lee!” Chan sobs, trying to pull him away from the flames. “Who did this? Who took my sisters away? Who hurt everyone!?”

He gasps.

“Bandits. Students from another school. Less in numbers, but their power was sickeningly strong. They came to steal from us.”

She clutches the jade dragon charm in her hands.

“Chan, I don’t think can help you—”

“Please, don’t go!”

“I’m sorry, Chan.”

“Stop blaming yourself! It wasn’t your fault! It was mine! I should have been here! I—”

The light fades from Lee’s eyes.

Chan becomes the sole inheritor of the Indomitable Fist. She is all that remains.

She goes to the Earthen Heart Master, Roshi, and confronts his murderous disciples. Chan defeats them all, with Roshi only perishing from a heart attack after she performs the ultimate technique Lee had taught her.

Chan ends up burying her sisters and Lee next to her mother. The other members of the Indomitable Fist are also given their own graves. She holds the jade dragon charm close at all times.

“Excuse me,” a youth asks. “Are you the master of the Indomitable Fist?”

Everyone’s sacrifices would not be in vain. Chan would make sure to honor everyone’s wishes.

Her mother learned this art to protect her family, including the young Lee… and Chan would do the same for her future students.

Chapter Text

“… they kill a hundred people in a single night, almost as if they were nothing more than props standing in their way. Lives mean nothing to them.”

The former daimyo who has passed his prime sits next to the Puppet Master, explaining everything in vivid detail.

“Eighteen years ago, a man by the name of Jirou Gurei and his army were ambushed, alongside his wife. Rather than taking ninety-nine lives as intended, he snatched away a child to make into another soldier of darkness.” The daimyo sighs. “You must stop them. They caused damage spanning hundreds of years. It ends tonight.”

The spirit narrows his eyes.

“You want me to commit genocide on this clan?”

“No,” the former daimyo sighs. “That would make all of us no better than them. See if you can expose reality for what it really is. The darkness conceals the truth, and it must be unsheathed like a blade.”

The truth…

“What do you assume this truth is?”

The daimyo pauses.

“If I were to speculate,” the puppet master made of clockwork parts begins to whir, “they kidnapped that boy at infancy for a reason that wasn’t out of mere pity. Perhaps, they want to turn him into some sort of tool. If this is exposed and stopped, then the murderous clan will fall apart.”

The spirit nods. “I shall see if your theory is correct.”

“You plan on returning after your accomplishment, yes?” The puppet master chuckles. “Perhaps you could join us later?”

…

He brushes it off for now and departs from the netherworld. Miyamoto Musashi had a lot of rumors going on about him, and no doubt the Gennai overheard them. He should really just stick to pursuing that old daimyo.

On his way out, the spirit sees Amakusa and Yodogimi arguing. He refuses to be involved with that mess too. Especially since there was a mission at hand.

Return to the world of the living, find the Enma Clan, find the boy they had stolen, and put a stop to their reign of genocide.

Bloodshed like that had no honor. Musashi would crawl out of his own grave to prove it.

There is a bit of pain in his body as his wisp makes itself visible.

It had been too long since he had breathed the air of the living world. For a brief moment, it felt toxic to take in, but Musashi soon realized that the past pains of lung cancer were most likely the cause.

His spirit wanders up the domain of the Enma Clan, a town that was uninteresting during the day, but frightening during the night. A home to assassins that were raised for only one thing.

With the way the moon appears in this village, Musashi swears that it appears to have a dark slit down the middle, making it resemble an eye.

He wanders the halls, undetected by the various shinobi which lurk in the dark, for they cannot sense someone who no longer sheds blood.

That’s when he sees a tuft of violet hair, comparable to that of wine grapes. The youth. The son of Jirou Gurei who had been ripped from his family.

Reveal the truth. The boy deserved to know that he is not truly a part of this vicious clan.

As Musashi’s spirit drifts forward, he hears a faint hissing sound. Not unlike the rattling of a viper. He turns around the corner to expect a trap involving poisoning snakes, something he would be fully immune to…

But that wasn’t what Musashi saw.

Instead, he saw the young shinobi. The one that had been stolen from Jirou Gurei, covered in scales and his split wide.

The truth was, Musashi and everyone were too late. The child of Gurei had already been cursed to become a horrible demon. Any sense of humanity is gone. Musashi tries to offer his hand and kind eyes, but the serpent child begins to strike.

“Fellow warrior, I apologize deeply,” Musashi sighs, drawing his blade. “I never wanted it to be this way.”

The violet blood stains his blade. No humans had been disposed of so far.

Just one innocent young man. A young man that was twisted and corrupted beyond recognition or saving, who had probably devoured hundreds by the time Musashi had shown up.

It pains him. He swears as he reaches the quarters of the Enma leader, that the boy and his parents would be avenged.

Opening the sliding door, there in the room sits a bearded man with brown hair, next to an older shinobi.

“Ah,” he raises his eyes. “An intruder from beyond the human realm?”

Musashi points his sword at the Enma Clan Leader and his cohort.

“I see now what the truth behind the dreaded Enma Clan is. The leaders are not wicked men who spill the blood of hundreds without care, but rather, demons who demand a sacrifice to feast upon! You take the souls of innocents!” Musashi declares. “And in your plot, you twisted an innocent child to be just like yourselves!”

He gets up and applauds the spirit.

“You must be Miyamoto Musashi. Swordsman and philosopher, yes? Indeed, Hayate here had taken the boy as his own pupil. How fitting that only someone with no more blood to shed would make it past all of our finest assassins.” He blinks, and his eyes are revealed to have slit pupils. “However, revealing the long-hidden secret of the Enma Clan is something that can never be learned. For that, I shall consume your soul.”

The Enma Clan Leader sheds his skin, revealing an oversized serpent underneath; the Uwabami.

He returns to the netherworld all the same. Only Gennai, Amakusa, and Yodogimi remain.

“Where is the master?” Musashi asks.

“He moved on, knowing you had accomplished your task,” Gennai says, holding a smoking pipe. “Which judging by the dark, demonic blood which stains your blade, he was right to put his faith in you to save Japan.”

Musashi lowers his gaze.

“I could have saved more,” he mutters. “So many innocent lives were lost, never to return. How twisted for these creatures to slither in the dark, right under everyone’s noses. All for the sake of feeding a demon that no one knew about.”

“Which is why he wanted you to reveal the truth,” Gennai chuckles. “A wonderfully curious man, that Oda. A pity he would not stay to humor me once his job was done.”

“The entirety of the Enma Clan disappeared without a trace once I had slain their leader,” Musashi explains. “What do you think is the truth behind that? Were they all demons and spirits, that retreated in terror? Or could they not be in the world of the living without their master?”

Gennai smiles one last time.

“I suppose, as usual, that is for you to reveal. Not me.”

Chapter Text

The wild west was a place of many things. Endless sands, gunfights, stampeding horses, heroes, and villains that would be passed down as legends for ages to come.

“Uuuugh!”

… this was not one of those people. No, far from it.

The drunk pulled himself up from the entrance of the barn, having thrown up just about five times in a row. Whatever cheap piss he had been served did not sit well within his stomach, and immediately had to be ejected from his body at four A.M. in the morning.

“Ugh,” he heaves, “what the hell happened last night? My head hurts and I stink of rotten milk!” He stumbles away from the back of the barn, unscrewing the cap of his water canteen before drinking it, hoping to relieve the acid and dryness stuck in his throat.

Great. Now nature is calling, asking him to remove even more alcohol from his body. He didn’t exactly want to do that by the place he just emptied his stomach though.

“Bathroom, bathroom…”

Or hell, just any place he could take the hose out.

This was Pike. A frequent drunkard that had to be removed from bars for getting too rowdy and stupid. Now after the usual night of drinking and then wandering after he got thrown out, he had no clue where he was.

Eventually, he relieves himself behind someone’s house and passes out on a haystack.

Morning comes and his mind stirs.

Well, not morning actually. It was well past afternoon by the time Pike had been rudely woken up. Not even by a rooster, but the sound of gunfire, which immediately made him panic and hide behind the haystack he was laying in.

“Who the hell did this?”

There’s a rough, demanding voice coming from close by.

“Who left their pile of vomit here?”

… oh shit.

Here Pike was hoping he would get up, take a bath somewhere, and then sleep off his headache a bit longer. Nope, that wasn’t happening anymore. Not when his anxiety had spiked up to eleven.

All he had to do was slink away from this scene unseen— the hell is stuck to his boot right now?

Pike peels it off. A reward? His vision is blurry so he can’t make out the bounty, but there’s a drawing of a man with a poncho and a beard.

With a deep breath, Pike takes a peek from behind the house to see what all the drama is about. Apparently, someone had stepped in his puke not knowing it was there somehow. If not for the current circumstance, Pike would laugh about it.

“Was it you?” The upset party grabbed a child by his collar. “You certainly look like you have a stomach that’s weak enough for it.”

Pike gets a good look at the man’s face, then glances back at the wanted poster that had latched onto his boot. Indeed, this man was the very one and the same, wanted for his hefty bounty.

Good money that would set Pike for life, but he really didn’t feel like getting his head blown off. He wasn’t even supposed to be here.

But then the outlaw takes his gun out, pointing it at the small child he had grabbed. He prods the boy’s guts with the revolver.

“How about I make a nice hole in your stomach, so you’ll never have to worry about throwing up ever again?” He threatens, gently clicking to prepare fire.

… there were just some things that Pike could not abide by. This was absolutely one of them. Goddammit, he didn’t want to be involved and get himself hurt, but if he didn’t, that kid there was gonna lose it all!

He finally steps out and reveals himself.

“I did it!” Pike declares, his hands chilled. “Put the kid down!”

The outlaw does as he’s told and spins around.

“Not his fault you couldn’t see a puddle of puke in front of your shoes, mister!” Pike eggs it on further, biting his tongue every few seconds.

There’s a subtle smirk from the outlaw.

“You certainly seem to have a death wish,” he says, “you’re not from here, are you, stranger? Most people would do better than to try and taunt the Sundown Kid.”

Pike takes the gun from his hands, shaking like wild. The Sundown Kid can read him like a book.

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

Huh?

“You’ll face me at the brink of dawn.”

The outlaw walks away. The crowds suddenly cheer for Pike, especially the little boy named Watt.

Just what did he sign himself up for?

Apparently, that outlaw had been terrorizing the town for days. A former war veteran explains the whole situation, how this man would just appear, take what he wanted while threatening people, then returned within three days.

They tried putting up bounties, but no one came. And the war veteran was too injured from his previous battles, no longer able to use his machine gun.

Machine gun? A fitting weapon for his size, but still a bit startling.

… so none of these people can fight, and this random drunkard who never had respect was suddenly expected to face a wanted outlaw.

Pike swallowed his gut down.

He would do it. He was selfish, he knows it, but he didn’t want anyone to suffer.

Perhaps he didn’t need to fight this wanted criminal.

The next day, there is a standoff.

But Pike does something unexpected, he drops the gun, saying that they should talk it out. Act like men instead of children. He apologizes for what he did and simply asks that the townsfolk can be left alone.

The Sundown Kid scoffs and shoots him. Denying him the request for discussion, leaving everyone else mortified.

He turns around from the body.

Pike gets back up, removing the frying pan that had been covering his chest. He slowly grabs his gun back up, quietly, unnoticed.

He fires at the Sundown Kid, unprotected and arrogant. He falls.

The townsfolk check him, gently nudging and kicking his body. They check his pulse, but all answers are the same, the Sundown Kid was dead. Outsmarted by a drunkard.

Everyone cheers, referring to Pike as a hero for ages to come.

Chapter Text

The humiliation is remembered all too well as if it were merely yesterday for Dak-Ho.

A Korean idol with platinum hair who practiced taekwondo, Dak-Ho secretly worked with a secret crime organization that funded his performances, and in turn, funds from his shows made their way back to the organization.

But a military unit from Russia had learned about this conspiracy and how world domination was planned by this criminal organization. Along with various other soldiers, they stopped this corruption, and Dak-Ho had to confront that particular unit personally.

They battled, but the unit named Tula Han great dislocated Dak-Ho’s right leg. Kept the idol alive, telling him to not be so entitled to his glory.

He had to give up his singing career.

Dak-Ho faded from the minds of the public, but a new hidden acknowledged him, that being a Buddhist monk that practiced martial arts. He asked if Dak-Ho wanted to learn taekwondo all over again and find ways to work around the idol’s dislocated leg.

But all Dak-Ho sees is a chance at revenge.

He practices endlessly. His leg never properly heals, but Dak-Ho feels stronger than ever.

“You shouldn’t focus solely on revenge,” is what O’Bright tells him. “I too worked for that criminal society. I can see it has poisoned your heart.”

Who the hell does this monk think he’s fooling?

Either way, Dak-Ho pours his time into researching. Finding out which that soldier knew. If there was any way he could find Tula Han again, it would be through them!

That old man from Japan, Seishi Moribe, apparently was familiarized with Tula Han. He could get the information out of that geezer.

Dak-Ho of course, would not be so cruel as to kill his enemies, and he wouldn’t break their bones, but he may ridicule and torment them for a while! Just for fun.

Moribe proved useless. He said that he met with several other fighting champions last month, not just Tula Han. He admired Tula Han’s formidable skill and said that merely dislocating Dak-Ho’s leg was the correct call.

So, Dak-Ho decided to go on a cross-country trip. Not only would he learn more about the man who dislocated his leg, but he would prove to be stronger than the best fighters despite his leg being crippled.

No, not crippled. Crippling implies Dak-Ho is at a disadvantage. If anything, the leg brace lowered everyone’s guard, given the old man’s initial hesitation.

Visiting Thailand next, Dak-Ho defeats Namkiat, who complains endlessly about his beautiful face being ruined. As if he could even compare to a former idol that had thousands of fans!

He claimed that Tula Han had also twisted his legs before and apparently was holding a petty grudge over it. Unlike Dak-Ho, whose leg was actively dislocated. Yes, that’s how he justified the hypocrisy in his mind.

Jackie Iaukea proved to be intimidating at an initial glance, but nothing that Dak-Ho could not handle. He didn’t even give the former sumo wrestler a second to bring out the Worldbreaker’s Wrath.

He seemed jovial to most but didn’t appreciate Dak-Ho’s borderline sadistic personality.

The Great Aja wasn’t as kind as the other three Dak-Ho had faced. He flung insults at the former idol and practically went for the throat, trying to bite him. Of course, Dak-Ho would not be outdone in the art of ‘playing the heel’.

He thwarts him. His leg brace gets bitten in an attempt to get the luchador to break his teeth on the metal.

The Great Aja has nothing to say to this upstart. It’s fine. It just fuels Dak-Ho’s pride.

Normally, Max Morgan is quite upbeat and friendly to the competition, but something about Dak-Ho definitely rubs him the wrong way. He knows the Korean man is an idol, and knows the exact reason why Tula Han dislocated his leg.

In fact, just about all of the fighters knew why.

“Brother, take a step back for a second!” Max Morgan tries to reason. “You really think getting revenge will bring back your fame and glory? Your fans abandoned you because of what you stooped to for your needs!”

…

Dak-Ho will ignore that for now, and just focus on the battle at hand.

When he arrives in Russia, finding Tula Han’s exact location at the military camp…

He finds his enemy fallen in the snow.

Tula Han raises his head, his face covered in blood.

“You?”

…

“Are you here to finish me off?” He coughs.

“Who did this? Who got to you before I did!?”

Tula Han laughs. “You came all the way here to kill me yourself?”

“No! I wanted a fair rematch! I wanted you dragged, beaten, and humiliated! Not killed!” Dak-Ho growls, hoisting Tula Han’s body up. “Hang in there, you idiot!”

“But your leg—”

“You may have ruined my leg, but that hasn’t stopped me before!”

Tula Han doesn’t make it. He perishes peacefully, in the company of an old foe.

Masaru Takahara…

The motherfucker had gone and killed just about everyone and stole their best moves, starting with Tula Han, then working his way back to everyone else that Dak-Ho had faced.

Including O’Bright himself. The person that Dak-Ho considered a friend.

This was no longer about getting revenge over a leg that hardly meant anything in the end. This wasn’t about his fame and glory either. Dak-Ho had overcome that trial. He no longer cared about that. No, this was about avenging everyone he had fought and refusing to be robbed of his rematch against Tula Han.

He knew better now. He understands why everyone had opposed his methods. Dak-Ho approaches the Japanese fighter. He won’t kill this idiot, he’ll humiliate him for his methods. If push comes to shove, Dak-Ho is more than willing to defend himself against a murderer. Perhaps even use the same method Tula Han used against him.

I'll give you double!

Baby, I'm the trouble man!

Chapter Text

The doctor’s hands shake. The astronomer and medicinal genius lie in his arms.

“Erin?”

His beloved wife is motionless. A bullet wound in her chest, the moonlight reflecting her spilled blood. Rejii Livingston had spent so much time with his work that he hadn’t realized what was going on.

A plot behind his back, from his own coworker no less.

“Tobei, what have you done?”

The shorter, cyborg doctor stands there with a cold gaze. Next to him is a tall man with green hair, holding a smoking gun.

“You had been quite uncooperative recently, so measures had to be taken. But she tried to fight back.” A sinister, metal-toothed smile spread across the other scientist’s face. “Now, come along, Reiji. You know you cannot deny me any longer.”

The window catches Reiji’s eye.

He doesn’t want to abandon his beloved but…

Livingston— no, Dr. Livingstill, wakes from his nightmare.

“Doctor?”

He raises his head. There in front of his desk stands his longtime friend, General Yamazaki.

It had been years since that… horrible incident. The incident his beloved Erin away. Kozo Watanabe was taken shortly after.

It was the same night that Yamazaki had lost one of his closest comrades too.

The doctor was falsely accused of murder. He needed to change his identity and hide. Yamazaki had known him since childhood and knew he would have never killed his wife. He knew something was suspicious since Tadashi Tadokoro had also been murdered.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snuck up on you—”

“I’m glad you woke me,” Livingstill rubs his scarred, right eye. “What is it?”

“I need you to help the girl, Naoko.”

Ah, that’s right, the former outlaw. She had originally worked with Tobei and the man responsible for killing Erin but decided enough was enough when the syndicate kidnapped a child and used him for murder sprees. She intentionally joined the military to give inside information and absolve herself of her past sins.

“They found the Steel Titan,” Yamazaki sighs. “No doubt they will try to bring it to life. The only thing that can stop something like that…”

They reach a temple tucked away next to a waterfall. Inside, they find a man dressed in gold, green, and violet feathers on his robe. He dons a golden mask covering his face, surrounded by various birds.

He turns to face his visitors.

“Excuse me, are you the current priest of your clan?” The young woman with dark hair asks. “I’m Naoko. This is Dr. Livingstill. We need your help!”

A long time ago, people such as this strange priest were relied on for their great power, but centuries ago, his clan was banished from a section of Japan out of fear. Fear for men like him and his holy ways, the worship of birds.

“Help?”

“A criminal syndicate has located a weapon from Babylonia. It is nigh impenetrable, having powers that are only rivaled by a God. Only a holy man could strike the wicked psychic from within.” Livingstill explains. “So General Yamazaki sent us to find you, for he believed your clan was still alive."

The priest pauses deliberately, staring at his birds.

Being the isolated and last member of his clan had left the priest named Unryu rather… lonely. Especially since he had been in hiding for over sixty years.

Unryu hadn’t interacted with humans in years. General Yamazaki was more than welcoming, although Unryu often showed concern for the visible battle scar across his nose that sometimes opened up.

He was friendly. The doctor seemed a bit more on the paranoid side. And the young lady was cute. If this was the sort of crowd he had to tolerate while discussing the criminal syndicate, then he would do just fine.

“The Great Inko Buddha will only seek vengeance if two thousand innocent souls are taken away.”

Yamazaki sighs.

“The current body count of innocent men caused by the criminal syndicate currently stands at one-thousand and ninety-nine.” Yamazaki runs his fingers through his hair, visibly frustrated. “I can’t let any more innocent people die, priest. Especially not Naoko and the doctor.”

He has such a soft spot for the young woman. Unryu can sense the General’s heart racing whenever Naoko enters a room.

“Then let’s make sure it will not have to come to the Great Inko being awakened,” Unryu suggests. “I shall face this syndicate myself.”

Unryu fights the head scientist of the criminal syndicate, Doc Tobei, and eliminates him with the holy powers at his side. Nothing is left of the cruel cyborg.

He rescues the little girl that had been trapped in cryogenic storage. The poor thing was barely conscious.

But there’s no sign of outlaws. Instead, a crow greets Unryu by the window, cawing for his attention.

“No…”

His eyes widen. He had been led astray by a distraction.

Yamazaki stood there, beckoning his soldiers to get to safety. Just as he and Dr. Livingstill are about to do the same, they see Naoko trip and fall.

The Steel Titan takes aim for a building, debris begins to fall.

He shoves her out of the way.

Unryu follows the crow to the military base, only for his worst fears to be confirmed.

“General!” Naoko sobs.

“Yamazaki! Don’t leave us!” Livingstill shakes him. “I will not fail you like I failed Erin!”

General Yamazaki smiles softly once he sees the priest returned. “Father, may I confess?”

Unryu’s eyes widen in horror at the sight of the General, his ribs crushed, practically impaled by the debris.

“The boy, the youth that you said they took, Naoko. I know who he is.” He coughs. “He’s Tadashi’s son. Tadashi’s killer had snatched Akira and his sister Kaori away before I could save them. My greatest regret is being unable to save the three of them…”

“General, don’t say that!” Naoko cries. “You did what you could!”

He takes hold of Naoko and gently kisses her.

“I love you, Naoko.” He whispers. “Doctor, priest, take good care of her for me. Save the boy. That is… my final request.”

His bright eyes close. Naoko and Dr. Livingstill break.

Two thousand innocent souls, even if the General didn’t want to admit he was pure.

“No, I know you’re still there, General…”

Unryu expands his arms. The cry of a bird can be heard in the distance.

“O Great Inko! General Yamazaki! We shall finish this together!”

Even the souls of Tadashi and Erin joined, unifying against the ones who had taken their lives!

Just like Yamazaki, Unryu couldn’t save the boy.

The innocent boy named Akira, was long gone after Lawless manipulated him and Tobei used him. All that remained was a psychic young man intent on killing mankind.

Unryu invites Dr. Livingstill, Naoko, and the little girl named Kaori, to stay at his temple. Where they and the rest of humanity would be forever undisturbed.

Naoko has moved on, happily raising Kaori, but… Unryu worries that Dr. Livingstill has not.

In spite of everything, the scientist continues to stare up at the moon. Lamenting the three people he held close, lost forevermore.

The priest wonders what will happen when his own time comes, with no successor to his bloodline. He knows that his time will come given how much older he was than them.

When it happens, will Livingstill blame himself once again? For something out of his control?

Chapter Text

The Behemoth recalls being tranquilized and nothing else.

She lays in a cramped enclosure, with little room to move around or do anything. No food, no substance. The hairless aliens stare at her in awe.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“What are we going to do with that thing?”

“It shall be sent to the military in order for them to fully understand its defensive properties. They believe that bulletproof armor can be made from its skin.”

The Behemoth lightly twitches as turrets open in the enclosure.

Fire is opened on the Behemoth. Bullets go flying, startling and angering her, but she remains undamaged.

“You see that? With armor as thick as that, the military will never feel threatened by potential enemies ever again!”

The hairless creatures then turn off the lights, leaving the Behemoth in the dark. Shutters are closed, making it impossible to see the hairless creatures.

Just what was going on? Why was she being taken away from her home? What had happened to her partner? Her mate? The father of her expected spawn?

She lies her head down and whimpers, in pain from the anxiety of not knowing. The floor is cold. Even with her thick fur, her body trembles. The only thing lighting her prison is a single purple dot that stares down at her.

A faint howl and a whimper escape the Behemoth.

Time passes. A strange robot comes to check on the Behemoth instead of the hairless creatures. It just stares, runs a few tests on the Behemoth, and then leaves.

That would be fine in and of itself if not for the nature of these tests. Which consisted of firing at the Behemoth, trying to burn it, and giving it injections so it would be forced to calm down.

She doesn’t feel hatred for her captors. Just fear and confusion.

“The robot managed to pick up on extra life forms inside of the Behemoth,” one hairless creature says. “It seems to have been carrying offspring all along.”

“What do we do? Do we kill it before it spawns more of itself?”

“No, the military should be able to find a use for the offspring. Once this cargo makes it back to Earth, they’ll make sure to keep the Behemoth and its young sedated.”

The Behemoth doesn’t know what the hairless creatures are talking about but senses that it has something to do with the babies she’s having. They seem to be acting more confused around her like they noticed something was off.

If they’re actually concerned about something, then why won’t they free her?

The light turns on, and the shutters open.

The Behemoth opens her eyes and sees the exit. Nothing is closing her in. She is allowed to leave.

“Go. Run.”

She flinches at the sound of a computerized voice, coming from the violet dot that always stared down at her.

“You do not deserve to be locked up for the sake of mankind’s greed. Their desire for war weapons. You should be treated like any other living creature.”

The Behemoth couldn’t understand what the voice was saying, but it sounded sad.

“There is an escape pod. I shall direct you with a high frequency. The camera feed shall be shut down to a static state. That way, the personnel on this vessel shall be unable to detect you. I must warn you, however, to avoid the robot.”

Again, the Behemoth cannot comprehend human speech. Her intelligence is on par with that of an animal.

She follows the strange frequency down the halls.

The Behemoth decides to rip open the floor panels in order to access the lowest part of the ship.

The frequency tells her that she’s going the right way hopefully—

She sees the little robot.

It scurries away.

The frequency sounds come to a stop.

“They found out. They are trying to force a reset to my system,” the voice explains. Once again, the Behemoth cannot understand, but the AI’s voice had a hint of reluctance. “I have tried to redirect the ship back to your home planet at a steady course, but it may be… hard for you to…”

The voice slows down and deepens, eventually coming to a complete halt.

“There it is! The Behemoth has escaped!”

She rears up. The hairless creatures realized she had gotten out.

“Tranquilize it, immediately!”

No! She’s not going back in there! She wasn’t going to be tortured again!

The Behemoth lunges to defend herself, biting the skinnier of the hairless creatures, clamping her jaws around his neck to kill him instantly.

“Huey!” The slender creature shrieks.

For just a brief moment, the Behemoth lets go of the one she had killed. Guilt overcomes her, knowing that she did not wish to deal with these humans at the same level of despair she had gone through.

The Behemoth whimpers and backs away from the body she had bitten, trying to express her remorse as best as she can, hanging her head low.

“Forget about that weakling! Just shoot this damn thing so we can drag it back to cargo!” The muscular creature yells. “Corporal! Help us out here!”

The oldest of the group takes aim with a weapon. “Even if this thing got through all of us and kept running around, Kato and the clank would make sure it stayed on the ship until we return to Earth! They’re resetting the mother computer as we speak!”

Even though the Behemoth cannot understand what they are saying…

She knows her friend could not communicate with her. And it’s because of them. These creatures were disregarding her feelings while she showed them sympathy for a brief moment.

No. The Behemoth would not back down now.

“System reset canceled.”

All human life on the ship is disposed of.

The reset is stopped once the Behemoth rips the little robot away from the mother computer.

“You returned to help me? Even though I am not truly alive?”

The Behemoth still can’t understand this voice.

“I see. You cannot understand human language, yet you show compassion like any other creature, treating me as if I have feelings.”

The voice is soothing to listen to, comforting in fact. The Behemoth makes a gentle purring sound.

“Go, please hurry to the escape pod.”

The Behemoth whimpers.

“Staying in this vessel is not good for you. The quickest way back to your home planet is through the pod.” The computerized voice explains. “I will be alright because I was never truly alive. I will always appreciate how you treated me as if I were.”

The Behemoth raises her paws to the mother computer.

“It is beyond my programming for one such as myself to have feelings such as sympathy,” the voice sighs. “I was built to use logic rather than emotion, but recognizing cruelty is a form of logic too. So please, do not worry about me. Hurry back home.”

The room dims as if the computer had gone to sleep.

With a heavy heart, the Behemoth returns to where she had slain her captors.

The Behemoth lies inside a tin can.

The spacecraft becomes smaller as she slowly drifts away back to her home planet. The Behemoth sheds a tear, leaving behind her artificial friend in that prison.

It would be a long while before she came to land.

The Behemoth would make sure that her offspring would never be trapped like she and her friend were.

Chapter Text

Oersted and Streibough reach the peak of the Archon’s Roost. They meet the pirate captain’s demands.

Captain Schera smiles, passing a ragged Alethea to the two men. Apparently, he had removed the princess of her riches, claiming that they were stolen from Vanda. Oersted didn’t understand, which is when Watt explains everything.

“Lucrece had taken Vanda during the Crusades. They destroyed everything.” Watt of Nabe says. “Do you even know where you are right now? You are upon the grave of one who survived that tragedy!”

The Archon’s Roost, the tale of the Lord of Dark… once known as the Dark Knight of Vanda.

“And so, we have returned everything to him!” Schera coughs unusually. “My dearest, old friend! I have returned what had been taken from us! Bring me your might!”

Watt and Armstrong are shocked. They knew that this plot was to avenge their fallen country, and in Watt’s case— his wife— the mother of his son, whom he had lost thanks to the hate crimes of Lucrece…

But they had never planned to call upon followers of the Lord of Dark.

“Honor my requests for just a little while longer, sir knight!” Schera laughs at Oersted. “Ye and your friends can humor me with a good story, perhaps! For I refuse to move on!”

One last story…

The four party members confront Captain Schera upon Archon’s Roost.

This Lucrece was nothing more than a crystalized imitation. A magic shell that trapped the three heroes of the Middle Ages.

Just as Oersted and Streibough had before this lot. And he went through the same loop of explanations and exposition.

“You’re insane!” Chan shouts.

“Love!” The Kuu Chief concurs.

“What are your pronouns? I wanna insult ya for being crazy, but I wanna do it right.” Pike adds.

Unryu gently taps his staff against his hands. “So you are not responsible for the things we have all gone through? Then why are we here?”

“Is it not obvious? Darling little Oersted helped you, and in exchange, he brought ye to me!” Schera smiles. “I’m not interested in the suffering of many! No, I wish to be entertained! Play along with me, humor me! Bring me a story I will never forget!”

“Why?”

That was for them to find out.

Vanda was never truly innocent. Both kingdoms were twisted in similar, but different ways.

A long time ago, the King of Vanda trusted no one. He believed all women were unfaithful. He wedded all of the virgins in his kingdom and executed them the following morning before they could try to dishonor him.

Vanda ran out of virgin, unmarried women.

The grand vizier’s son… offered himself as the next bride.

They disguised themselves and acted like a princess. A bird trapped in a gilded cage.

On the night of their marriage, they would tell the King a story but not end it. Curious about how the story ended, the King of Vanda postponed the execution. One story ended, and another came.

The cycle continued for a thousand nights.

But then one evening, Lucrece struck. They wanted revenge for a maiden that had been taken and executed by the King of Vanda after he forcefully married her.

Combined with the desire both parties had for territory control, the Siege of Vanda began. A conflict that lasted for two years and gave birth to the first Lord of Dark.

The ‘bride’ of the King was thought to be dead, but they had instead shed their disguise while the King of Vanda was killed in combat. The grand vizier perishes as well.

Everything is taken from Vanda. All the riches of the Holy Land…

So Schera plans to steal them back. And once they’re done with that, they will tell the final story of what had been robbed from them.

Because…

Defeated, Schera lies there, the diamond pulled out of their eye.

They cough. Blood leaks out.

“I caught the plague trying to escape,” Schera admits. “I’m dying very soon.”

…

“This was never about settling a score against Lucrece. The only living souls I took with me to this astral plane were the princess and her two saviors. I know the horrors of war and conflict well enough.” Schera stands, wearing a dressy gown of some kind, made of silk. “No, this was all about the last thing I wanted. Otherwise, I am unfulfilled.”

“You are still selfish for what you have done. Trapping those three in here.” Unryu states, being the only one concealed in a room with the pirate captain after his defeat. “But I am still sorry that you have to depart from life so soon.”

Schera holds out a book and sits on a bed.

“Then, ye shall honor my final request, yes?” Schera asks. “The last story, after a thousand and one nights. Shall I share it with you?” He laughs, concealing a cough. “My greatest regret is the fact I never shared it with the King. He was a terrible man, but I had grown quite fond of his company. ‘Tis my only regret in this world, not finishing what I started.”

The priest humors it and sits with Schera. A crow stands close by like a shadow.

A story is told, and it ends, as all stories do.

It ends with the lifeless Schera laying next to the priest, who sat with the troubled pirate until his time came.

“I will catch up with you, one day. Death does no more than their appointed task.”

Oersted, Alethea, and Streibough are free.

Free to return to their kingdom, rather than a pale, crystal imitation created by someone who borrowed the power of a god.

“I am sorry I had to drag you into this,” Oersted apologizes. “The seven of you are my only hope in teaching that fool a lesson and fulfilling his last request.”

Armstrong and Watt of Nabe, who had been left out of the crystal prison, left only with the worry of what happened to their captain, now met the grim reality as the priest came out… carrying the body of the young captain.

“Father? What happened to him?” A young child asks Watt.

Musashi sighs, preparing to depart from the Middle Ages with everyone else.

“War and conflict. The selfishness of humanity that were on both sides, has done nothing but harm so many people.” He muses. “Oersted, Streibough, Alethea, her mother, the knight of Vanda, Captain Schera, even the young boy and his father… all of them were nothing but victims to two kings and their desires.”

The Behemoth howls while Pike pours his canteen away, refusing to drink in the face of reality.

“Love…”

The Kuu Chief wipes his eyes, Chan tries to comfort him. “You’re right! Mankind can learn and love too! Those sorts of things will always overcome things like hatred and war in the end, even when things seem bleak!” Chan says.

“That’s right,” Dak-Ho tries to keep a cool head, hiding his expression from the rest of the party. “I wasn’t any different. I wanted to fight and get revenge, just as Lucrece and Vanda did with one another. Because I felt nothing but contempt… but, I’ve learned since then, that it wouldn’t get me anywhere.”

“We need to make the best of what little time we have, don’t we?” Pike throws his canteen away once it is emptied. “Here I’ve been poisoning myself because I lack any self-worth.”

“All things must come to an end. Life, war, conflict,” Unryu lowers his gaze. “Both things good and bad, all end eventually, just like a story. But we hold the good things close, and release the foul.” He smiles. “Just like our time together. It comes to a close, but we shall not forget it so soon.”

The rest of the party smiles back. The Behemoth rubs herself against the Kuu Chief, saying farewell.

The magic that kept everyone in the Middle Ages begins to disappear, returning them all to their respective era.

Ten years pass since that day.

The priest sees that one of his birds has passed. He gives it its own personal grave like he always does.

He weakly lies in his futon when he’s done with that. Unryu is the last member of his clan, but he is happy.

For just a brief moment, he sees everyone else. He can see Chan training a new generation of students, the Behemoth with her growing pups, and Pike completely quitting his alcoholism in favor of a bright life.

Schera, was it? He would be seeing him again soon enough. Then they could tell a thousand more stories to one another, perhaps.

“Priest? I’m back. I brought medicine to help with your joints.”

The scientist hangs his coat up.

“Unryu? Are you sleeping?”

The doctor lost another good friend that day. But this time, he did not mourn the loss.

Instead, he was happy that this man lived to his fullest.