• Chapter 00 - Only the Start
• Chapter 01 - Ayane's Choice
• Chapter 02 - Lost Soul
• Chapter 03 - Hope
• Chapter 04 - Rebirth
• Chapter 05 - Prelude
• Chapter 06 - The Darkness
• Chapter 07 - Defying the Universe
• Chapter 08 - Shiva - (disclaimer with this chapter)
• Chapter 09 - Guardians
• Chapter 10 - Dreams
• Chapter 11 - Fallen
• Chapter 12 - Human
• Chapter 13 - Love

His name was Mike, Mike Vic and his adventure all began so long ago. He was born basically alone, his entire family was killed by the dieses that brought the world to ruin. He wondered after that, searching for a cure to the nightmares that would not let him sleep. He kept having to watch them die, inflating like a balloon and then going pop. He was young and thought it was because of something he did. It wasn't, but he could never leave those early feelings of childhood behind. He left the U.S. at 8 with his inheritance. Everywhere he seemed to go in the states reminded him of his family.

His wondering had brought him to a small Taoist monastery in Korea. There he learned a form of Ti Chi and Acedo, as well as an art so old that it's name had long been lost to time, only it's power remained. He was there as a seeker of truth, he wanted to redeem himself. HE still felt the guilt of his youth. The marshal art was just something that was part of day to day life.

After that he went back to the states and blew every test out of the water. He had a photographic memory and rarely slept, nightmares. He graduate first in his class and, at 15, was the youngest Dr. to date. It was because of his work. He had no life, no friends, for he had learned that when you rely on someone, you were hurt. He was nice and blushed profusely when genus was used. He would say it was because he worked 23 out of 24 hours a day.

Then the stuff(edit) hit the fan What was left of Gov. collapse and the corperation,DOATEC. The corporation came to him, said that they wanted to help stop the sickness, needed his expertise in genetics. He agreed, hoping to save others from his fate. He worked harder then anyone there and soon was putting out new theories on everything. He had a unique way of thinking and thought ten moves ahead of everyone else. But, he had no common sense, and so was easily tricked.

Two days ago he had learned it all, that he had been responsible for epsilon, omega, and several other experiments. What was worse he learned of a new project, delta. The corporation was worried, however, those people from the DOA tournaments, could ruin everything. So they set a trap, lured them all to the island lab and were going to kill them. He had been given samples from ' volunteers', of their blood. He was told to try and put it together, then screen out the negatives and enhance the positives.

This is were our story starts. He walked down the hall, eyes downcast. Mike knows he will probably be killed, but he had to make amends. How much death had he caused? How much pain? He was an eccentric man, and his dress showed it. He wore PJ pants, a have a nice day shirt, and huge coke bottled framed glasses. His glasses conflicted with the rest of him though, he was 6'2 and fairly well built. He had long enough brown hair to have perpetual bed head and deep brown eyes. He had his peace coffee cup and the disk with the virus he had just uploaded. His plain was simple, walk in, hold the creature off during the DOA people escapes, and then die. The virus would attack the second he entered the stadium and it detected his DNA. It would open all doors and through the security system off. He had tried to fix things, and now it didn't matter anymore.

He had given his cat away, and was ready to die, to make amends.

He walked thought the huge gate into the stadium. IT was underground and you could see the garnet. It was harshly lite by flourescent lights and was about the size of a normal fighting stadium. It was in the shape of a hexagon. ON the far side of the room was bulletproof glass, where his former peers sat and watched. In the middle was a hole in the ground, where whatever they were going to use would be raised.

When he walked in a red hair girl in a blue gee was saying something and Dr. Decalburg, damn him, was laughing. When he walked in the noise stopped. It was odveous to him that these DOA people had never seen such a mismatched outfit. As fore his peers, they didn't even think he knew about this place. The girl was beautiful, and he would have stopped dead if he didn't have so much self control.

" Dr Vic? What are you doing..."

" Shut up!!" HE yelled. He was rarely anger and usually very articulate. But right now, he was blinded by his rage. " You took everything I worked for, my lives cause, and turned it into a weapon! How many have suffered due to my intelligence?! How many more?!"

" Ha Ha Ha, so the 'genus' finally has figured it out. You were so easy to use, it was almost laughable. And now, sweet Dr. you die with the rest. your creation..."

" No, your wrong, you can't win. Even if I die someone will take my place, you will be stopped! I will not allow my research to be used for your corrupt purposes. You will not win!!!!!"

" Kill him"

At that, the high pitched wine of hydraulics could be heard and a creature was rased up into the stadium. It was a monstrosity. 8 ft. tall and pale as death. It was huge and looked terribly strong and fast. At his appearance the walls of the stadium began to glow with electricity. IT was a forsaking place, a manmade hell. IT made him think of Dotaies inferno.

Then he attacked. In a mindless rage he ran at an unbelievable speed to Mike. And Mike just stood there, arms crossed and eyes closed, listening to the beast footprints. Then he simply stepped to the side and the monster his the ground, hard.

" How did you..." It came from an old man, and was probably more to himself then to anyone else.

" I knew what he would do. I thought ahead of him. Then I used his own energy agents him. Any attacker is naturally off balance and I..."

He side stepped again and the monster his the ground again.

" simply redirected his energy back to him."

This was repeated several time and then the man at the controls yelled .Next he heard the auto guns flare and the last thing he remembered was hitting the ground hard, then he blanked out...

They say that all people have demons that chase them. The monster in the window or the buggy man under the bed. These never completely disappear, they just become a constant background fear. A fear that causes men to run. They run twords power, wealth, drugs, fighting, anything to give them a sense of control. Wise men realize that these monsters are of their own making and end the creatures existence, by stopping them and forcing them into the light of truth. Few are so bold and wise, though, and those who do are deemed gods.

These inner demons haunt us all. But unlike most of us, Ayane demon has a name...

She has never belonged, and the one person to show her love, she killed. She had no choice, it had to be. But now it became a question of why. What was the point? She was no longer who she once was, and she could no longer enjoy her sleep, where her true love Hayate told her that which she so longed to her.

All these thoughts ran through her mind as she awoke. She hadn't slept well scene she killed her dad. But, like a dream, these thoughts were to gone to be remembered, but could never be apart from her again.

She through the sheets off her and got up for a walk. What should she do now? Should she kill the man who is admittedly responsible, that Vic guy? She shut her eyes and remembered:

The auto guns flared and Then shut down, almost as if by magic. But during this period of loss of concentration, the monster had hit That Man. IT was like watching an invincible being, fall from paradise, condemned to be a devil for all eternity. Then, during this, the inhuman thing had turned it's attention twords him, pounding him to a pulp, that weak-minded runaway shinobi bi*ch had acted, attacking the creature. They could have simply left, let him pay for what he had done, "but nooooo, she had to put her big nose in matters that weren't her concern" Ayane thought. All the doors were open and the disordered security force had been easy to destroy. As for That Man, well Bass had carried him...

" Why help him? IS he not the enemy?" She asked the room. IT was a well furnished room, showing an exquisite amount of taste, even in this dim morning light. They had stolen a plane and had left for Zack island. They had gone because it was discreet and only the bank in Sweden and Zack knew about, or so he said. It had been two days, and he had watched the other girls tend to his wounds and had asked why.

The writing seemed to her to be as clear as the daytime sunlight. He had taken her father, her love was next.

No. I will not let him take my love from me, I will kill him. No one will know, it will be an 'accident'. Why should I care if he dies, just one more obstacle to be removed. It has to be done, I will avenge my father. I will stop Him! I defy you stars!!!!!!!

This last line surprised her, it was from Romeo and Juliet, a play that her contuses didn't remember and, like so much else, was lost in the sea of her sub contuse. She pondered this as she walked down the hall. She arrived at His door. Room 411.

She wore her flannel PJ's and, even in that light, retained her beauty. Not a radiant glow, but a normal beauty, the most dangerous kind. She was like a flower that you almost pass over, but has some quality your eye can't refuse. She looked like a fallen angle, and her eyes had such saddens, that anyone might have thought just that. She had not scene any beauty in herself for, a long time, only a monster, a creature made to destroy.

She shook her head, trying to expel these thoughts, as a priest expels demons. She would chock him, that act surprised when she was told. End this be for it began. She opened the door quietly and almost laughed, he had been uncontuse for days.

She walked over to him, took the pillow, and then made the mistake of looking at his face. As she studied it, she saw no demon, set to take her happiness, just him. A man, a thing of flesh in blood

I have to, it is for the good of everyone it it...

She fell to her knees and cried in silence, partly because she had been too weak to succeed and partly because of what she would have done if she hadn't. She left that door thinking, " I leave with his burden, if he is a terator, I will kill him"

She said " You'd better be worth it." And left for another sleepless night in hell.

All of life seems to be a quest to prove our worth. Indeed the only common theme in religion is the need for salvation. All of society, culture, and all other aspects are geared twords pleasing another, be it god, lover, society etc. It as if humanity knows what it could be, and is ashamed of what it is.

For Mike, this is the basis of a lifetime of suffering. When he was a child he viewed his parents death as his fault. How could a child have thought otherwise. His whole life had been devoted to understanding why. What was the sin that he had done to have such retribution inflicted on him. He had searched monasteries and museums, Universities and universes, looking for the answer. And in the end, it couldn't save him.

He woke to conciseness, not a great full man, but a broken one. He blinked a few times and then looked around. He was in a room. It was very nice, king sized bed, ateque furniture, a large balcony looking onto an endless horizon, and he just didn't give a damn. This was the day after Ayane's visit.

"I'm alive" He said to the room, with a hint of sadness.

He felt the low ach of pain in his ribs as he moved. He looked down and found a very nicely made field dressing. He staggered to his feet and went into the bathroom. He looked in a mirror, and noticed he hadn't shaved and had whiskers " So what?" He asked his reflected self. He found his old close, neatly washed and folded on a chair by his bed. He dressed and left the room.

He looked more of a ghost, then a man. What had he done? The atomic bomb, gunpowder, the catlerpult, all palled in comparison to the evil he had unleashed. He had once said that man was good, that he wanted to do what was right. Now he saw the horrid truth, that it was mans nature to fight, to kill. That all forward progress would only be used as a means to that end. And he felt sick.

He found the elevator and hit lobby key. The boring elevator music came on and he stood there, waiting. Wail in the elevator, he realized he didn't feel anymore. Not physical pain, but emotional. It was as if someone had pulled the plug, and this was all that was left. He no longer thought either. Perhaps this was the most bothersome fact of all. He had always had some deep issue he was debating within himself, but now he just didn't care.

He reached the lobby and stepped out. It was a very active scene, with a bunch of people he didn't recognize doing this and that. As he stepped off the elevator, everything stopped. They seemed to exist in completely different worlds and it was like, for that brief second, they could see into the others reality. But, like all things, this passed too quickly.

" You shouldn't be up, your ribs are still broken and you have countless bouses and fractures. How are you up anyways? The pain should have been enough to..."

He rased a hand to silence the voice, without bothering to look at were the voice had come from, it was all pointless anyways. " Physical pain is simply a seris of bio-chemical and electrical signals to the brain, they can be blocked out."

" How, those are anatomic reflexes? No one has control of those." This voice was more sing song then the other. This time he looked up, the floor was boring him. He recognized the speaker at once as the famous opera singer Helena.

" There is a means to do everything, the key is necessity."

" What do you ..." Voice one again, it came from the same red haired girl, who had been yelling at his associates.

" I do not wish to delve into my past, and why I need to know how to block out pain. It would be a pointless waste of time to do so. The key is necessity, but I will not indulge you further then that. I have no time for these frivolities." and on a side note, after a 30 second eternity " You shouldn't have saved me."

They all looked at him, uncomprehendedly. The most startling thing was the matter fo fact way he said it, like he was discussing a new movie or cherry coke vs. regular coke. This timeless silence lasted a whole of about 2 minutes. It was only broken by Vics heavy footsteps to the bar.

" What do you mean, should we have just left you to die?!" Red headed girl again, this time with a certain sense of conviction.

In that same, stone cold voice he said, " Yes, you should have. I have only caused pain and suffering, to prolong my existence any longer is, at best a futile gesture."

" No, thats not right, all things have the right to exist. You didn't do it on purpose..."

" Yes, but I did it. All that matters is actions, intent has no weight. Besides, why put yourself into danger, they'll come looking. I know to much. They will hunt me, and then you, down. What were you saving me from, my own death?" He laughed at this, not a happy laugh, but a cold one that would send shivers down any mans spine. " Your efforts were futile, weather I die today or tomorrow, I will still die, and everything I do is pointless. At least I had a chance at redemption, but fate snatched that away to."

" No, there is more meaning, your alive, you should.."

" What? and make the most of my time in this suburban hell? This conversation is over." At that he walked to the bar, picked up a knife and stuck it in his arm. They all looked at him, paralyzed and sick. After a few seconds he dug out a micro chip, that was under his skin.

" See? It is a tracker, we all had them implanted, when we went to work for DOATEC. IT should have delivered a shook strong enough to kill me once I left the island, but sense it hasn't, my virus must still be reeking havoc."

He took a bottle of alcohol, drank a little and then dumped the rest onto his wound. He let out a groan, and his eyes tread up. He started away. Then he grinded the micro chip to dust between his fingers and began to walk away.

" Where are you..."

" I have to get my thoughts in order." With that, he walked off onto the sandy beach, alone.

It is said that the pen is mightier then the sword. This is true, but that means that the strongest force is ideas, that true power is not in hitting something, but changing someone's view. In the end, all that is real, is because we choose to see it.

For Kasumi, this change came about too easily. It was as if the embers of doubt, long contained in her soul, were fanned into a raging fire. She had always thought what the stranger had said, but had never accepted it. It seemed to wrong. So it remained hidden, in an underlaying current that effected all her choices. She thought she could overcompensate, always be positive. That was the main reason she stepped in, as if saving his life in that lab would somehow redeem her's, make her existence meaningful again.

But now all the prisons she had that kept these thoughts in, had been shattered, and this truth, Her truth, came to the surface like black oil covers water. In his blasphemous mouth, out of his irreverent words, came that which she feared the most. It was all so futile.

It had been five minutes scene Vic's speech, and still her head was reeling. Inside herself, she could feel a battle for her very soul, growing:

Why? Why do I try so hard? For what, a brother who tries to kill me, a half sister who hates me, dead parents? Whats the point. Yes but I am alive. In what?! A hell, a daily struggle to survive?! Some life. But you could, they might... They won't stop, he won't stop. Why even fight, what is inevitable, why not just accept it? Because such a death would be dishonorable. honor, fuck honor, honor is why I can't go home, honor is why my brother hates me, what good is honor.

She was on the verge of tears, and not a soul in the world cared. She stood in a room full of people, and was so utterly alone. They were all talking, about how ungrateful Vic was, all of them hiding from what he really said, insulating themselfs in deeper layers of lies. "Fuck them" Kasumi thought, " Fuck them all" and she walked out, not with a loud cry, but an inaudible whimper.

She walked onto the beach, not crying, to sacred to go back into that sea of vanity, to sad and alone to appreciate the scenery. She had tried so hard, and yet it doesn't matter, nothing really does.

She was ready to drown herself, to end it all, when something stopped her. Mike knew and accept these truths, and yet he struggled, daily, to live. Why? She needed to know, some part of her soul, needed to know. And for the first time sense her expulsion from her clain, she felt some purpose, she had a quest now, even if it was a short one, and she would see it through.

She looked up, and for the first time, noticed the beach and the sea and the endless sky, and noticed she was crying. She wiped her tears away with anger. Sillouted(?) in that fading sunlight, she seemed a beckon of hope, a light, in a stormy sea. She seemed to pour out beauty, like she was creating it. And for those brief minutes, in the fading sunlight, she was more god then human. But like all of the other great events in our lives, this passed with not a soul, including her, taking any note.

Then, as if she had simply been an illusion for hungry eyes, searching for hope, she vanished. She would trake Mike down at all coasts, she would complete her quest. She had a purpose, and she felt great. For the first time in eons, her life had meaning again.

She found Vic about a mile away, sitting very near the forest that outlined the wilder part of the island. He was clearly meditating, and from that distance, she could have swore that he had a heavenly oar about him. Like she knew, that he could help her, and for the first time, the fear, all her fears of death and suffering and honor, all faded away. She quickly attributed this feeling, not to fate, but to sheer coincidence. That is, perhaps, the true curse of humans, to ignore that which we know to be important.

She proceeded twords him carefully, as a cat stalks her pray. But when she got within 20 yards, she stopped:

What am I doing? He won't understand, no one ever will. How could he understanding my torment? I was fooling myself into thinking he could help me, no one can. Why did I have to even think he could?

She turned to leave and a voice, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere, at the same time said, " I can here you thinking."

She turned, half stunned to see Mike looking at her. It was not a searing glare, not one of contempt or malice, it was one of compassion, with an undefendable sadness that almost brought her to tears. She had been as quite as a mouse, how could he have heard her.

" Tell me, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" He said, in a kindly voice. She couldn't help but think how different he was. He was no longer the harsh robot, who accept death as any normal person accepts life. But he still had that same sadness. The burden on his soul.

As if someone was controlling her, she said, " I bring no honor, with my visit, all it will do is endanger you." Her voice was so sad, as if all the weight of the world rested on her slender, flawless shoulders.

" Surly you jest, such radiant beauty, in and of itself, carries with it honor. Better to die, looking at something beautiful." He said, not with a hint of insincerity, yet at the same time, lacking the quality of falseness that most of those types of comments carry.

" Why?" This was all she could get out, be for she broke down completely into tears. She fell to her knees, like her burden had become to heave for her to bear and just sobbed. It was the most sad noise to exist, it was the sound of a strong spirit, a beautiful and pure and good person, snapping. It was a sound that, to this day, still echos in the heads of whoever was unfortunate enough to hear it.

She was not sure what happened next, she seemed to be floating in misery. But then, as if lightning had stuck, she felt a presence close to her own. She cried, for the first time, she cried, not out of sadness, but of joy. "Someone on this godforsaken mudball cares" She thought joyously. As this worm, carrying, body, sat close to her.

They stayed like that, covered in a comforting dark, just sitting, not saying anything, for what seemed like lifetimes...

It has been said that when two people are truly in love, time, space, all of that garbage becomes meaningless. Perhaps that is loves true power, to allow you to re-define your own reality. They say that loves can sit with each other for hours, without having to say a word. Just sit in a rare comfortable silence and simply exist, not try to prove anything. Perhaps it is why love is so coveted, just to be at peace with yourself, just to Be yourself.

And so they sat, 2 kindred spirits, speaking poetry in volumes, without saying a word. She dosed off several times, as did Vic, but there was something indescribable in that embrace. It was as if all the world had stopped, and had somehow found harmony with all who live on her. The songs they sung to each other, with rythems of the soul, few, if any, have ever heard such a hauntingly beautiful sounds.

They had sat, just sat, for almost three hours, and watched as the remaining embers of light, died away angerly, with violent red and orange. Vic looked down, and considered the weirdness of what had happened, he didn't even know her name, yet he felt he had known her for lifetimes. There was something beautiful in feeling mussels, which felt like they had been tense sense she was born, losses.

In time, the sweet lullaby of island nights, with the ocean so gently beating the shore, and the crickets sing there sweet songs, put him asleep too:

He was standing in front of an ancient building, which he recognized as his former monastery, The place were he had spent so many hellish days and sleepless nights. The master of this place, a particularly wise man, who had a long beard, and an undefinable ora of peace, had scene some potenchal(?) in Vic and, like any good master, sought to bring it out. This meant that his path was much harder then almost all his peers...

" No! Do not seek to see the fly, feel him out."

He was in the mist of a sparing mach, fight three of the schools best students, and getting his ass kicked. " How can I fight, when I can't see" Vic protested, he was wearing a blindfold. He had fought for three hours, and could no longer feel his legs. This was where his training radicle differed from anyone, except those from his own school, in normal marshal arts, there is an order, white belt fights white, ect., you are evenly matched. Here, there is no such thing, from day one you fight the master, so fighting is not for honor, or for a pastime, you fight to live. Many people die during this training, Darwin called it natural selection, and they employ it perfectly, without even knowing who Darwin is. Each day you either train or you study in complete solitude. Every night, at any time, the master may attack you. You seek to survive.

"Again!" the master voice yelled...

He opened his eyes and shook off that memory. It was when he had first advance, after 3 years of training. He had learned so much, and found so much, but in the end it didn't matter. His master and he had disagreed, he had scene sickness sweep across the world in a matter of months, and he knew he could cure it. His master had said to leave it alone, that any attempt he made would, in the end, cause disharmony. In the end his master had called him a foolish westerner, and he had called his mentor an escapist.

He had left that stormy night, to fix the worlds problems. He laughed at himself now, how foolish he had been. How stupid...

The nights peaceful silence was broken by a coo. It was a sound of one waking up from a dream, and finding it had come true. She looked up into his eyes, and he couldn't help but be scared. Her eyes seemed to go on forever and pierce his very soul.

" Hi" She uttered.

" Hi, it's still late, you should try to get more sleep."

" No," she said, " I feel to wonderful to sleep."

Again the oddity struck him and he remembered a line from some forgotten book of poem, " I never you knew, I knew you for lifetimes, I just met you, I've known you scene be for god was born."

" What wrong?" She asked him, almost as if reading his eyes.

" I feel bad for what I said. I had no right to. I.."

" They had to wake up sometime. I am glad you did what you did."

" No, it wasn't right. I should have left them alone. I wasn't right, life, simply because it exists, has meaning. All things for simply being, have energy. That is the greatest and worst thing about being human, you make your own path... I don't even know your name. I feel as if this whole thing is happening too fast."

" Does that matter, why should it matter who we were? That is all a past is, isn't it? A projection of who we were."

" Yes, but..."

" I feel the same way" She got up and stretched a little, " But I live day to day, I have to, I am sorry, if I made you.... uncomfortable"

" I dare say you have made me the most comfortable I have ever been, but I just don't know."

" Why? What aren't you sure of? Doesn't it just feel right to you."

" Yes, and that's what scares me, I'm afraid. The last thing I loved, died."

" If you need time then take it," She said, but without any malice " I will still be here. Why do you go on?"

" What?"

" That is what I wanted to ask last night. What is the point."

" I can't tell you, because I don't know. I devoted my life to trying to understand what it means to be alive. My master once said something, ' look at it, life. You are there, though whatever divine force, and for whatever purpose, you exist. You can feel the breeze, and taste your food. You can go where you want. Realize that every second is not discovered, but made. That you are creating your world, not finding, and see the miracle of it all', I never saw what he said, but, That is the nearest I have come."

She nodded, slightly, and with that was gone. She was like a dream, to good to be true, yet to real to denie. He stood there, looking at the sun rising, and thinking how he should apologize to all them, but mostly thinking about her...

They say that there is always a Lule before a storm. Almost as if nature is preparing it self for the reckoning hour. In mythology storm were always considered wars between gods. And the destruction and mayhem they cause it nature was just the natural extent of that. Modern science would refute such claims as fairy tales, and yet almost every major culture looks at a storm as an omen, with almost the same aw that accents looked on them with, struggles of two forces beyond our very comprehension. Our fate, our very souls, hanging in the balance of such divine rivalry. Powerless and only waiting for the out come. Such is the stuff of fairytales and the dreams of great poets, but it has been my experience that myth always conveys some hidden truth...

Helena Had ben the first up that morning, at 5 A.M. She enjoyed the solitude and listening to classical music and opera. But her mind was to concerned to be focused on the peaces. She hd listen to Vics comments and had been thinking them through, unfortunately, he made sense And on top of that both he and Kasumi had vanished. Perhaps what troubled her the most, however, was a bazaar request by Gen Fu. He asked to see copies of what this man had done, his credenchals(?), everything. The majority of this was a well guarded secret by zealous members of the anti Douglass faction. There were, however, some loyalties left to her late father. She had got everything she could. She didn't know why Gen Fu would ask for this info. Maybe it had to do with his grand daughter, and her genetic illness.

She was sitting in the main lobby, and looking out the window, in to a mangiest sunrise, almost as if the old world, so full of evil and wrong, had been destroyed and this sun had now looked on the world, as it should have been, and was proud of it. The lobby itself was spaceshous(?) and nice. It wasn't your average cheap lobby, it was obviously intended to be a meeting place. The room was filled with comfortable furniture. There was a large T.V. against one wall and the other walls were filled with windows. There was a kitchen that was visible there as well. The east windows spued in sunlight like a leaky roof lets in rain. It was supposed to be a nice day, but something didn't feel right.

It was like magic, they just all seemed to appeared. Rumors spread like wildfire about what had happened, ranging from they had murdered each other, to they had eloped. She looked over the crowd and just drowned in the chaos. The separate voices flowing together into one, unrecognizable, stream of sounds. She had her own ideas as to what happened, but wasn't ready to share them, they weren't nearly as nearly as extravagant as death matches, or star crossed lovers.

She walked out onto the balcony and looked at the sky. It was blue, but dark clouds were appearing like factions of a rouge army. They looked omonis and bleak. The good weather wouldn't hold., it was just an illusion... clung to before a devastating storm, they'd be lucky to live through..

She stopped herself, and thought, "what a strange thought to have, must be reading to much poetry". She stood out there, with her tea and just watched the sky for a few more minutes before she heard.

" So what do you think?"

She recognized the voice at once, because of it's innocense and naivete as Leifang. " I am trying not to."

" I heard the truth, they stole a jet ski and rode off into the sunset."

" right..."

At that, almost as if on cue, Kasumi appeared. She walked in, without looking up and saying a word. All eyes feel on her and Helena thought, "how embarrassing." She looked the same, but there was some unrecognizable quality in the way she carried herself. She seemed to be more dignified, more sure of something...

" Where have you been" It was her brothers voice, a note of concern was odveous.

She looked at him with something beyond hatred, a look of loathing. " Why do you care? Scared your assassins wouldn't find me?" She said this in the same cold, lifeless way Vic had talked earlier. And it obviously startled her brother. It shocked everyone, she had never talked this way before, she was the die hard optimist.

He looked genuinely hurt, and was about to reply when the first bolt of lightening was heard. Helena listen to it, as the cannons of heaven or hell clashed and wondered, pensively, who would win this war.

The storm began to grow more fierce and she listen to the haunting orchestra of heaven. The weather channel was on and it was the same old saver storm crap. The room turned dark, almost instantly and all that was left was the mild glow of electric lights, which pailed in comparison to the once radiant sun.

It was then that the door was through open, as if by wind, and in stepped Vic. If the silence which had greeted Kasumi was intense, this was maddening. HE walked in, eyes downcast and said.

" I am sorry, for what I said earlier. I had no right, I wasn't thinking clearly."

She looked at him, he looked human. Not this monster or madman, just a normal guy, who happened to wear PJ's all the time. She heard a voice retort.

" So should we just forgive you, what you said, no apology can be issued for." It was Jan Lees voice, full of hatred. " You have chosen your path now walk it !"

He began to speak then stopped. She saw he was really concentrating hard. His face showed lies of intenseness, but she felt it wasn't on what to say next. He crossed the room and turned up the stereo. It was Ode to Joy. And he stood there, nobody was sure what to do.

" Vic..."

He rased a hand, and this gesture, seemed to demand obedience. He then but a finger to his lips, but his eyes remained close. After a few more seconds, his eyes snapped open, as if they were on springs, and began frantically scanning the room, the same way a mother does, when she has lost her child in a crowd.

" We don't have to take this..."

" Whoever is behind the curtain, near the large balcony, you have 3 seconds to show yourself, then I come in after you. This is not a bluff." His voice thundered. It was not the volume, but the intenseness, that made it so fierce. It drowned out every other sound, even that of the raging storm. She looked at his eyes, and noticed an intensity she had never witnessed be for, and at that moment she realized that he would do, or die trying to do. He would not be stopped, even by himself, he was, as his peers described him, ' a model of efficiency'

" One, Two, Three," At three he charged, he looked more like a beast then a man. A beast that hadn't eaten in days, and had just caught wind of it's new meal. When he was within 5 Ft., a figure burst out and through a throwing star. This person was dressed in all black, and looked like a skilled fighter. What struck Helena as strange was the fact that the star wasn't aimed at him. It's trigectory was all wrong it didn't make any sense.

Then, suddenly, with speed that rivaled lightning, his had shot up and he grasped the star safely, between his index and middle finger. The stranger had broken the nearest window and had jumped out. Vic, turned his body, kicked the wall, and did a sharp 90* turn, without losing any momentum. He jumped out the window, without any hesitation, like he had done it before. Next the 4 other shinobs ran after that, in pursuit. They moved with an inhuman skill and seemed to fly.

Everyone else, looked at each other and then ran for the stairs, each going in there own way. Helena ran. She had no motor bike and thought such activates as that, beneath her. But now she wished she had one. The storm overhead gained momentum and the battle of the gods looked like it was about to begin...

Perhaps man's greatest fault is to be able to justify anything. All people have an inherent scene of right and wrong, but we often let bull shit principles get in the way. We loose ourselfs in a world of necessary evils and acceptable losses. We can easily fool ourselfs into causing pain. Man knows what he must do, but rarly listens.

Vic went flying through the trees, at a pace that surprised him. He wasn't thinking, a benefit of his style training. IT was all reflex action, so he was as fast as possible. Most of the time people forced their instinct down, they seem to get in the way. But now, Vic was in tune with his instinct to an unbelievable ecstant(?). He was more animal then human, at that point. He could hear the forest itself, almost as if the very wind carried a voice that was saying, ' left ahead, go right, don't stop.' And for that all too brief seconds, he felt a part of nature, not above it.

He heard a noise, like the sharp cutting of air, and into focus, as if by magic, appeared some throwing stars. He avoided these, without losing any speed and yelled "Incoming" to no one in particular. The assassin was just barely in his sight, and probably wondering how he could be so easily detected in such a dark and stormy day. The rain came down in sheets now, and was painful to those it hit, it was like the earth itself was trying to purify itself, washing in holy water and expelling the demon of man. But if this was her intent, it was futile, for the 5 continued on into the black day, on into the heart of the storm.

The others weren't sure what to think, they merely acted on pure instinct. They would have followed Vic into hell without a second thought. It was as if he had some power emitting from him, that you could follow, or cease to have any purpose. They flew through the trees with equal agility, wonder to themselfs, quietly, how he had learned this shinobi trick.

To any spectator this would have scene a beautiful and inhuman display of grace and fines. To look at it was almost as if to look into a dark room, and have know idea what monsters may lay in wait. They seemed to be spawned from the darkness, a part of it, coming out of it, and then disappearing into it. And to the wandering eye of a spectator, it wold seem that they were some superhuman thing, not man at all.

Another throwing star, this one was high, and snapped off a branch above Vic's head. Without the hesitation of thought that any of the others would have had, the thought that would have lost him the game, he grabbed the branch and chucked it into a dark and stormy sea, knowing without knowing that it would hit it's target.

The next noise didn't belong, even in such a dark and tempest storm, it didn't belong. It was a subtle thud. In reality it wasn't loud, yet to Vic, this sound was the loudest sound in the forest, and it echoed through his very soul. He jumped and landed, flawlessly. He stood in a clearing, and for the first time, became aware of the chile of the wind, and of the death in the air. Yet it only seemed a whisper now, like this storm was a taste of what was to come and somewhere, deep in his very essence, he felt shivers of fear, not at this moment, but at the moments that must come. Yet even he, in his current state of mind, would not recognize these thoughts, so he stood shivering, and didn't know why.

He heard 4 more thumbs behind him, and knew who they were. Across the clearing, about 12 ft. away, lied the assassin. He seemed a scared animal, his eyes searching frantically for escape, but to know avail. It was easy enough to tell he wasn't from DOATEC, he looked more like something out of medieval Japan then a modern assassin. He was dressed in black, and had only weapons sticking out of his close.

Vic began to wake up form his dream-like state, like he always did, listening to music, only he could hear. Somehow this music stood as a bridge for him, a halfway point between the insanity he was in now, and his regular state of mind. Perhaps in his fighting state, he was more sane then everyone else, but this didn't occur to him. Sanity was what everyone else was, and he wasn't. In any case, he listened to his silent music and came back to a semi conchus state.

Then a throwing star was released, as it neared his head, and looked like a sure hit, he reached up and snatched it out of the air, like it had already been there. He studied the instrument intended for his own death quietly, and then trough it away, with no more thought then one gives to disregarding old cans. A second came at him, and again he caught it, but this time he looked at his asssasin with a smile. He through a third. and it was caught too.

" Listen to me very carefully, I will only say this once" Vics voice boomed, with the same authority as it had in the lounge. " Fate is not kind, she makes you suffer for what you have done. She has brought far stronger men then you or me to their knees, merely on a wim. She would destroy you, turn your very soul into ash. She would laugh as she takes all that means anything to you, and rips it away. But I am not so cruel as fate. You were doing what you thought was right, and in your own demented illusion, it was. But it is not my place to judge of condemn you, leave, never come back, and I will spare you. You have been warned, come back again and I won 't be held accountable for my actions. Now Go."

His peers looked on, amazed and alarmed. He would just let this man, who had tried to kill him go. His voice echoed through the forest and the stormy night, becoming part of them both. He didn't sound angry, but remorseful, like he was taking pity on this man for his current state of affaires.

" I can't, I, I .. I will not yield top you!!" yelled the assassin in retort. He got up and attacked. It was a mad charge, born of utter hatred for the mercy that had been shown to him. Vic stepped to the side and tripped the assassin. He hit the ground. The asssasin sprang back up and punched, Vic caught it. It was odveous that the assassin wouldn't stop until one of them was dead, odveous to everyone but Vic. And then, a horrible sound sprung out from there fight. The sound os the crunch of bones. The assassin had his lower arm and wrist both broken. It had happened so fast that in the assassin's eyes shot pure disbelief, before the pain came through. He screamed an unearthly wail, and fell to the ground. Vic let the now disfigured arm slip from his, and drop to the ground. It was as effortless, like crushing a can, and Vic seemed to think no more of it then that. In Vics eyes was the same pity as before, like this fight, the storm, none of this meant anything, all he saw was a lost boy, who needed help. He spoke again, soothingly.

" Now you will leave, you have fought one who was more skilled and lost. There is no dishonor in that."

The asssasin looked up with more then hatred, it was loathing now. He had hot tears of anger in his eyes, for what he couldn't do. He got to his feet, and without looking at anyone but Vic, got ready to go.

" Wait!" Vics voice thundered and it surprised them all, this was more commanding then anything else he had said. He walked up the assassin, and garbed at him, then withdrew a sinkers bar from the assassin pocket, " Leave" he said, and the asssasin went, with loathing it tow.

Vics eyes changed from pity to unreal gratitude. He had the look of a child on his first Christmas, after Santa had visited. He opened the candy and devoured it, carful not to leave an ounce of chocolate in the rapper.

" Hungry?" This came from a new arrival at their little clearing, the others were catching up.

" Fuck yes, I mean fuck, I haven't eaten a thing in 4 fucking days, lets see how you do?" He said, playfully.

" 4 days?!"

" Well, it was on my to-do list, but I had other shit to take care of."

"Well, I can cook," the same voice, " Let's go back and I would make you as much food as you want."

"I would be forever in your debt, if you could do that. But first I must do one thing. You bastard, what the fuck is wrong with you, trying to kill your own sister!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

HE was looking right at Hayate, and this revelation seemed to stun everyone but the two who stood there, staring at each other. At that a huge thunder clasp, and a strong wind, carrying with it lost souls, blew by.

Perhaps the most deplorable act of any human is to fall pray to some meaningless tradition. It as if to say to the universe that you quite, you no longer seek your own path, you were merely walk someone else. Tradition is what happens when thinking stops and, in it's place, comes meaningless ruten, and obedience. It is thanks to strong tradition that the crusades were raged, thanks to strong tradition that lunatics like Hitler take power, and thanks to strong tradition, that brothers kill sisters...

Hayate knew what he was trying to do was wrong. He also knew how foolish it must have looked to an outsider, but to him, it was all that mattered, it was all there really was:

How could an upstart outsider possible imagine the importance of honor. It was all there was, and she had forsaken that, she was no longer fit to bear the name that I won't speak with her's, and yes, she must die, so that her honor can be restored. All I have done,. Or will do is based on honor, and I will kill both of them for challenging my resolve

Even as he thought this, the silent questions seemed to grow more intense. It was as if his mind was saying 'honor' but his heart and soul said 'NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!'. But, like so many other human endeavor, right and wrong took a backseat to old school morality. The same morality that says it is better to have 2 drunk, abusive parents, then 2 gay ones. It didn't matter though, tradition before self.

And so they stood there, Hayate facing what he viewed as the personification of everything he hated in himself. Before him stood not a man named Vic, but the demon of doubt, and he would silence it forever, like so many other things, with cold steal, and superior strength. He would kill them, then he would be the true clainsleader, he would do his sister the honor of a Nobel death, and redeem her soul.

He looked around and saw the full furry of the storm. What had started off as mere black clouds had grown to a thunder show of destruction. The rain fell harder and harder, and the whole earth seemed to shake at this show of power. It was as if the world was giving birth, to something better then itself, but was killing itself to do so.The clearing had filled by now with the other fighters, who seemed to marvel at the storm. He stood strong though, for he knew the storm well...

It was as if the rest of the world didn't exist and before him, stood all his doubts and fears, ready for destruction. " So you figured it out, How?"

" The sword is of the same unique design as hers, you 2 also have similar builds and tans, meaning your from relatively the same place, I put two and two together. How did I know she was your sister? Well I have been working with your genes for 3 years now, I know who is related to whom."

It was as if they were talking about coffee preference, not life. Yet somewhere in those calm voices hung the souls of men and gods. As if destiny herself had ordained this fight and the whole earth reeved in anticipation. As if Revelation's prophecy were about to be determined by one fight.

" You will die, I will honor my family by sacrificing you, and then give my sister back her honor."

" Shut up and listen, to that nonesence, you'll taking to lives, not doing so ritual, your killing."

" Who are you to judge my tradition, It is based in thousands of years..."

" Your morality is made by men, therefor it is as flawed a creation as any other man made thing. I have always said, People before Principles, because prinicibals are always made by fucked up people. What gives you the right to take our lives, what god gave you, personally, that divine mission?"

" I will do what's right!!!" He screamed, trying to drawn his own doubt out in the rain and nose of his voice.

" Then follow your own heart, not someone else's" Vic retorted, in the same cold, cool voice.

" I.. I .. You will die"

" Shut up and fight"

At that the very heavens exploded releasing thunder that was never heard before. Hayate charged. With the strength of all the shinobes he charged, and he landed a hit:

He is no match for us. We are the sinobes, our morality will overcome all else we will..

Laughing, it was a horrible laugh, not the least bit fake, yet it seemed to rip all of Hayate's hopes away. So there they stood, his fist on Vics nose, Vics head tilted back, and a madding laughter spilling out of him. He had hit him hard, what was so..

" Is that the best you can do?" At that Vic lowered his head to revile a huge smile, a bloody and disfigured nose, and those same animal eyes, that seemed to glisten in the storm like two unholy jeams. " Because if it is, you should leave now. You have form, but lack stopping power and resolve, your hearts not in it, the day is mine."

At that he lifted his foot and kicked Hayate, sending him flying into a tree, breaking the tree, and having him sprawled on some rocks. He was just getting up when 5 or 6 fists were landed in his chest. He would have cried out, but his head was smashed into a rock.

HE stood up, and realized that he couldn't win, the demon, his doubt, would win, he couldn't.

" How? How can you do this to me?! I am the strongest shinobe, I am the leader I am..."

" Full of doubt, you have convinced your mind, but your spirt is not in it. You can not beat me, 'A house divided can't stand' Your chi is out of harmony, and you can never win."

" No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" A weak punch, easily avoided by Vic, and then a thud, as he lay on his back, starring at the sky, and the cause of his humiliation.

" Here is how this will work, your sister is now officially my student in the art of Toa-ru. If you attack her, you attack me, you attack me, and you attack a trib of people who are much stronger then me and haven't been on a 3 year vacation from fighting. You may leave with your precious honor, however, I yield to a superior fighter. Take the lonely path you have chosen and walk it."

" No, Mark these words, I will kill you for such an aggrieves insult. You will die at my hand!!!" He screamed this, and then laughed insanely as he ran into the storm he knew so well, the only true friend he had.

" You have made a powerful enemy, my brother won't be stopped." It was Kasumi's voice, with more concern for him then her brother.

" Perhaps", But Vic had stopped listening, he was thinking of what was to come...

In Hinduism the God Shiva is the god of destruction. He is not feared, like satin is in the west, but rather he is revered. Some have found it strange, why worship a being that leaves in it's wake only destruction, suffering and death? The reason is only through these things can rebirth occur, only through pain, can we learn who we are, a sword must be put into the fire, be for it is stronger. In the words of the red hot chilli peppers, 'destruction leads to a very ruff road, but it also brings creation...'

In truth, suicide is not some ritual for punishment. It is not some last ditch cry for attention. It is simply a way out. People who do it feel the need to protect who they are, in a twisted way, it is an act of self preservation, a last chance at escaping, the final cry to some apathetic god.

Ayane needed to sleep, that was all she knew now. She wanted to sleep forever, to live in the land of dreams where life weas not so hard, where love was just a step away. Perhaps it was her fatigue, or the fact that she couldn't think clearly, but she wanted more then anything, for the pain to stop:

Hayate had run off into the woods, and Vic had just stared after him. They all questioned him, and were in awe of him, but she hated him, she hated him for helping Her, she hated him for embarrassing her love, but, most of all, she hated him because when Kasumi was with him, you could see Her pain melt away. Ayane had gone in after Hayate, into the heart of the storm. She wanted to comfort him, merely to see him woulkd be enouf. She found him and...

She shook her head viscously, trying to forget, trying to forget everything, and somehow feeling better. She looked around for the first time. She was balled up of the floor of the bathroom. To her right was the shower, to her left, the shattered mirror, she could no longer stand to look at herself. Laying all over the floor, almost like snowflakes, were broken peaces of the glass. She looked at her fist, it was bleeding from the punch she had delivered, and in it she grasped her escape, her only way out.

It had become a beautiful day, almost as if fate herself was laughing, mocking her. She hated the sun, and the happy birds, let the only truth, the truth of nothingness, envelop the world and her. Let it have her very soul, in exchange for the timeless sleep of a child:

" I am scared though" Ayanes meek voice protested. She was about six and was sitting at the room in her step fathers house. She had lived there for almost a year. Ever scene she was little, she was viewed as a disgrace, a burden to her parents, a constant reminder of their sin and infidelity. She was shun by the community, but was to young to understand. Then her parents had died.

Of course people were more then willing to take in Kasumi, but she was alone. She was expelled from the village, unofficially. She wandered around aimlessly and, eventually, some kinder deity took pity on her and guided her to her step fathers village. Her father found her, passed out from a heavy soul and took her in. He didn't care about who she had been, who her parents were, he only cared for her. In time she would grow strong, she would set out to prove herself, not to her father, but to herself. She would kill anyone who tried to hurt her, she could control her own destine, with her own hands.

" Ayane, there is nothing to be scared of, there is nothing bad here." This was her fathers voice, it had that same indescribable quality that all fathers voices' have. It was filled with loving concern..

" I don't want to go asleep, because you will be gone when I wake up" She said, nearing hysterics now.

" Don't be silly," He said kindly, lovingly, " I will never leave you, I will always be with you." She had been like this scene the day he found her. It was as if kindness was such a foreign concept, that she could only believe it in a dream, that the second she closed her eyes, she would wake into the depths of hell.

He looked at her, his silly little Ayane, and was filled with sadness. 'What had she gone through' he thought. " Alright, how about we keep each other company then, would that be all right?" he asked.

She nodded her head, and he crossed the room. He sat down next to her, and she eventually feel into a deep and peaceful sleep. Then he would quietly leave, promising silently to always be with this poor creature.

" But your not here now" She said into the room, with a voice so remorseful that even in hell, people wept for her. " And it's all my fault". At that the instrument of freedom went over her wrist.

A strange thing happened. As the blood dripped out, so did everything else. Her worries, her cares, they all left, and, for the first time, she could her the beauty of the birds sone, and, slowly, she passed into a deep sleep...

Every culture has beings contained in it's myth that serve as our protectors. These beings exist on a completely different plain of reality, yet they still care for us. Many have used these beings to explain unbelievable coincidence. Many more have used they as a ‘physical' manifestation of God's love. The most popular name for these beings is angle...

‘To death do you part', that is the line that priest say before you are wed. Ask any widow and they will tell you, death is no match for love. Love is the ultiment expression of our souls, it is what we were meant to do. More often then not, bull shit get's in the way and we find our selves scared. But, if there is some part of humans that live on after death, surely it is love...

Vic walked down his hallway twords his room, 411. He had just had a huge dinner in the lobby, and was feeling pretty good. It was about six, and the day had turned out beautifully. The storm that had once seem to engulf their very souls had vanished into the abyss that had spawned it. He walked down the hall and thought of the evening:

he had fallowed them back to the hotel, everyone but Hayate and some girl with pinkish, puperal hair. They had feed him, and they had talked on this and that. They were actually treating him like he was a member of the group, not an outsider. Vic thought it was because of his victory, he had proven himself, but whatever the reason, they...

HE came crashing back to reality, suddenly. He wasn't sure why, or how, but he knew something was wrong. He had learned long ago that he must trust his instinct, they were something that wouldn't betray him. His head shot around the hall, eyes darting wildly, and the same intensity that was in the lounge came back to him. He looked down the hall and up the other side. It was a nice hall, with candelas for lighting hanging about 7 ft. apart from each other. There were intricate murals on the ceiling, and flowers were etched into the wall, even the rug reflected a huge amount of taste. Then his eyes stop inexerply on a door that was at the end of his hall. He Knew that that was the door...

‘ Run'. He heard a voice, as clear as day, yet without hearing it, only finding it in his mind. It scared him, ‘ So I must have finally taken the plunge and gone insane,' he thought, ‘ well, if that is the case, then I might as well humor my insanity.' He took of for the door.

When he got there he hesitated and looked at the door. The door appeared to look like a door, the only difference between his and this door was the number, 424. Yet, as he went to turn the doorknob, he felt a shiver of fear. It was as if he had stubbled on the gateway into the very pits of hell, and it was about to suck him in. The darkness and that oozed off the door was almost tangible, like it could be caught and kept in a jar. And, for the first time in a very long time, he felt fear. He didn't fear death, but this simple door of wood seemed to have a fate much worse then mere death.

He shook his head and bit at his nails. ‘It is just a door' he told himself, trying, desperately, to convene himself of this lie. It was not the darkness he fears, it is what lay sleeping in that darkness. Then, as if guided by some outside force, like something took hold of his hand, he reached, grasped, and turned the knob.

There was no physical wave of evil. There was no visible demon at the other side, who lay ready to steel is soul, it looked just like his room. Yet there was still that darkness, that fear, and as he opened the door, he could feel it grow with anticipation.

" Hello?" His voice seemed forenig, not his at all. He peeked in and looked. IT was just like his, accept the balcony was on the other side, and the paintings were different. He looked at the balcony and saw that it was open, and a steady breeze blew in. This breeze gave life to the white drapes, and even they seemed to be an echo of the great darkness that lurked, every one of there movements seemed ominous, and they swayed in the breeze, looking like the white wearing ghosts of our youth. He began to walk in, slowly, not glancing anywhere but the balcony, that was where he would attack from if....

" Mother fucker!!!" He said, with pain in his voice. He lifted his foot and noticed there was a sliver of glass imbedded in it. He looked down and noticed how there was a trail of glass leading into the bathroom. He fallowed it, and knew that this was where he was meant to go...

What he saw next was a scene that he would never forget. It was an image that became part of his very soul. It would never truly leave him, and would haunt him, like a furry*. IF he lived a thousand years, he knew he would still never forget that image. That this horrible scene, and his parents gory demise would be what he saw, all he saw, when he blinked...

He opened the door in a great thrust, not wanted to endure the horrible suspense of last time. He glanced up and saw the most horrific, haunting, and beautiful scene. It was not the normal beauty, but the beauty an out of control fire has. Shards of glass lie strewn about on the floor, reflecting the horrific scene.

There, on the ground, balled up like burnt paper, she lay. Next to her lay a puddle of red blood, some of which had dried. She was pale. The horrible red still spewed from the incisions she had made on her arms. She was unconscious. Next to her lay a large broken peace of glass, tainted with the liquid red impurity. He absent-mindedly noted that she was naked, and that her hair was still a little moist, but these things seemed infinitesimal, compared to the rest of the scene. He couldn't help but think of christen dogma, that angles forced from heaven become demons, and she looked like one of these fallen angles. He was repulsed, and at the same time, couldn't rip his eyes away from this hauntingly beautiful scene.

" Oh Jesus, what have I done," He whispered, he couldn't stand the scene anymore, could no longer bare to look upon the fruits of his labor, what he had driven her to do. He knew, after the fact, that it was her step father who they, who HE, had made into the Ogema man." It's all my fault, oh sweet god what have I done" He said on the verge of tears.

Then he recoiled and threw himself out of the room. He had just reached the door, when he colaspesed to his knees and threw up:

I didn't want this, I wanted to help people, Oh god what have I done.

It isn't your fault.

Yes it is, I took her father, I killed her soul, Oh god what have I done. I Have to save her, even if it caus me my life, I must. Why? Why did it work out this way, I just wanted to help, not cause pain. Why, why do you condemn me to live this farce of a life? Why must every thing I do go so wrong?! I Hate You !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This last thought suprized him, he had never thought it outloud. It was something that he had hidden. And he was truly scared, and he felt the tears come from his eyes. Tears that he hadn't known scene his parents death, tears of pure, unrelenting, pain.

Then the same voice that had said run, said, ‘wake up.' Then he realized how presshous little time she had, they all had, and he sprang into action. He checked the blood, the amount lost, and worked with an inhuman skill and calais that only field medics in war posses. He studied the wounds, the blood, and simply functioned. It was a handy trick, his body would do the work, and his mind would be somewhere different, anywhere.

He decided he had to move her, take her to a place where he could work on her. He picked her up, gently, cradling her. She could have weighed a thousand pounds and he wouldn't have noticed, she felt light as air to him. Then he began his walk twords the elevator. His mind was reeling, and still in a dream like state, and he thought, as all people do when they can't accept reality, ‘this is a dream, I will wake up, Oh please wake up'

He reached the elevator, and looked at the buttons. There was no need to embarrass her further, she had been through more then enough. That meant the lobby was out. He searched the list of what was on each floor frantically looking for anything. He stopped on a floor marked ‘game room.' A billiards table would be perfect, well lite, and long enough. He hit that button and proceeded twords the floor.

It was empty when he got there, and he realized how utterly alone he was with his new burden, how isolated he was. He set her on the billiards table, and ripped his blood stained shirt. He preceded to make a tourniquet. HE then ran twords the elevator and hit lobby.

He stepped out not cool and composed, but frantic. He stood there, in blood stained close and when he came into view, everyone gasped. " There has been an incident" He said, In his best Dr. voice.

He told them a censored version of what had happened, ‘let her keep some of her dignity' he thought. Then he made a list of what he would need, asked about a hospital, of corse there wasn't one. On the list he wrote:

1. Blood kit ( check lifeguard station)
2. ID for blood type
3. lots of alcohol
4. sewing needle and thread
5. gloves
6. lighter
7. assistant

They brought him what he needed, and he told them he would call when he needed item number 7. He worked long into the night, fighting off the angle of death, that seemed to stand at her side. Eventually he called for someone, and then he began to give his own blood to her. By luck, or fate, they were both AB. He passed out next to her, and all of the world waited...

furry

a reference to ancient Greek mythology, a demon born of the blood of chronous, that haunts men when they do something wrong

They say everyone needs to dream. It has been proven physiologically that without REM sleep, subjects go insane. What is in these dreams, what are they? Some say they are your mind venting, some say they are random neurons firing. I think they are echos of what should be, but never is, a glance at what we once were, but can never again

"Hahaha" this voice belonged to Ayane, she was about 3. It was the day of a festival and the streets were lined with colorful decorations. It was a lovely evening, and the whole day had been spent having fun. Now they were making their way twords central square, to watch the fireworks.

Ayane was amazed at the magic everywhere. The way the streets looked, the way everyone acted, and she thought that this truly must be a special day, a day she shouldn't forget, but she did forget, eventually. She looked down, even she had been touched by the magic, she was allowed to wear the special comono that here mom had made her. The streets were lined with normally buissy vendors, now empty, but colorfully decorated...

" Your it" This voice was Kasumi. Anyane was too young to have the hardened hatred for her. To young to know what it was to hate, and so they played together, running at their parents feet. She was also to young to notice the looks that she was given by most of the people in her village, too young to understand that she was an outsider.

Anyane looked at Kasumi, she looked small, and although the women she would grow into was caste over her like a shadow, it hadn't materialized yet. The traits that would eventually be called ‘beautiful' were called ‘cute'. Her hair was in a poney tail, not very long at all. She too wore a comone, her's was blue, and Anyane's was red.

This immediately brought laughs from her as she started frantically chasing her sister. Her parents loving smiled at each other, looking on this little display. Then Kasumi ran up to Hayate, to hid. Of corse Anyane fallowed. They all fell over, the girls laughing hysterically.

" No more of your stupidness" This was Hayate. He was far to dignified and old to ‘play' with them. He had been walking slightly ahead, thinking. He was always far too serous, but he walked ahead mostly for attention, he liked the way people called him all those good things, even though he wasn't sure what they meant. " You guys are so juvenile"

" You don't even know what that means" said Kasumi, knowingly.

" Do to" He said, " It means, something you wouldn't understand, your too little."

She stuck out her tongue, and Anyane fallowed suite. Then they ran off, still playing in the happy innocence of youth, free from the cold cruel world. The true horror of life had not yet set in, and do to their purity, they were free to play together...

Now this happy scene left, for a far more morbid one. One that would change everything, one moment in time that would forever separate her and her sister. One moment that would make her fall in love with her brother. One moment that she would use to define reality. One moment that would eventually be forgotten in her mind, but never by her heart.

She looked around again, unbelieving. The room was dark and the day was clouded. What struck her as odd was the fact that everyone was crying. They all seemed so sad. There was a man at the front of the room, speaking an ancient dialog that she didn't understand, and she just stood there, wondering.

Her sister poked at her, and she sinkered, slightly. This, of corse, brought reprimanding stares from the people who were dressed in dark cloths. She heard them say something like, ‘even in there death, she is a burden to them', but she was to young to understand, and so she hung her head, not because of what happened, but because she was yelled at.

The strange event went on for another hour, the ones it was meant to comfort, completely missing the point. Not understanding that their parents weren't coming back from their jouny. After the ‘party' started. This was the part the sisters had been looking forward to. They thought it would be like another festival, fun.

It wasn't fun, not at all. After the old man was finished, some youkey big people food was brought in. Her sister and her set off together, but were immediately separated, as people flocked to Kasumi and told her how brave she was, and other such things. Anyane wondered why:

why didn't people tell me things like that... wait, this must be Kasumi birthday. That was what was going on. People always cry on her birthdays, and tell her nice things. I wonder why I never get told nice things on my birthday, I wonder why we go to the temple for her's, but we stay home for mine? Oh well, I must get her a gift, because these grown ups are doing this whole party thing wrong. They are making it boring, poor Kasumi! I will save her birthday.

She decided that she would go off and get a present. No one noticed she was gone, or if they did, no one cared. She wondered through the empty village, looking for something. Then she saw flowers growing in a field. "I will pick her flowers" She said to no one in particular.

She came back a little later, and forced her way to her sister, armed with the bestest birthday gift she had ever given. She got close when a furreous voice said " How dare you bring flowers to such a mournful ceremony, do you not even respect your parents, even when they have past?!!!"

At that a furry of voice said mean things to her. Things she didn't understand, and new words like ‘mistake' and ‘bitch' came at her. She broke down and wept, ‘Why, why do I get yelled at? Why doesn't anyone say anything to Kasumi? She is the one who poked me.' She thought desperately. She looked over at Kasumi, who was frozen with fear, and, for the first time, was angry at her. Anyane always watched out for, and when the big people were mad, she would do something to make them less mad. But Kasumi just stood there, and stared. It was at this moment that the hatred for her sister was born, an anger that would later be fanned by the winds of corruption and suffering into a raging fire of loathing. She ran away, and no one fallowed her, or so she thought.

She sat down, by herself, in sight of the people, but not near enough for them to yell anymore. She put her head on her knees, like she always did when she was sad and wept. She wanted her mom to sooth her.

" Are you alright?" It was Hayate's voice. He looked genuinely concerned, and, for once, didn't seem to mind being forced to be with her.

" Why did they yell at me, Hayate? What did I do that was bad?" She said, tears rolling shamelessly down her now red cheeks.

" I.. Don't know. I wish mom and dad were her, they would tell us, but whenever I ask anyone, they either cry and hug me, or say something about moving on. I don't know what is going on. Grown ups are weird."

" Why do the people love Kasumi bestest? Is it cause of her hair? I just want them to be nice to me, not even to love me."

" Well, just between us, I love you bestest, your much more, mature then Kasumi. And those other people are just bug brains." He said this, mainly to get her to stop crying. But he said it with love. This was the birth of hope. It might have been twisted, and this particular moment was forgotten, but this was her hope. Then he heard his name, and started back. He stopped, and offered her his hand, ready to bare her burden with her.

" I want to be alone, just for a little" She siad naively, God have mercy on those who get what they want.

Life just got worse after that. In time, the only one who fed her was Hayate, who would save some of his food and hide it for her. No one would even look at her. She was not aloud near the temple, or in anyone's house. They all didn't want her dishonor on them. They thought that she would leave, eventually, and she did. She left to discover what she had done some bad that they hated her, that her parents left her. She gave Hayate a note, and gave him one for Kasumi, and set out into the bleak and hopeless world, that eats dreams, alone...

Her eyes fluttered and opened slowly, into the harsh light. She looked around, this room was strange to her. She tried to think, but couldn't, her head was still floating. She looked around, she was in an empty game hall. She blinked and it slowly came into focus, slot machines, video games, a bar, and a huge window facing the sun. It was tinted of corse.

Then she looked down and saw him. He was passed out on the edge of the pool table. His glasses seemed to be carelessly caste aside, and it looked as though he hadn't meant to sleep. Next to him, hanging next to him was an IV needle. She looked at her own arm and saw the other end was in her. His breath was rythmatic. Then what had happened hit her like a freight train.

‘What did I try to do' she thought, disbelieving. And then there he was. ‘He stayed her all night, he did all this for me?! Why, why did he help me?' She looked at him at awe, and then noticed what she was wearing. Draped over her was the Have a nice day shirt, he had nothing covering his chest. ‘He doesn't even know me, why?'

She reached out, hesitated, then poked him. He moved, but was still asleep. She poked him harder. This time he shot up with such force that the chair he sat in flew back and he landed with a thud on his back.

" Son of a.. Mother.. Honestly" He said, sleepily. She couldn't help but laugh. Instead of yelling, he laughed too.

" Please, never do that again," Vic said. He got up and walked to the frig. He got a glass of Oj and walked over to her. He picked up his chair, and sat down. " Drink this, it will make you feel better."

" Why?"

" "your blood sugar is low, OJ is a great source of sugar. You lost a lot of blood, for awail I wasn't sure you'd make it."

" I guess this is the part where you tell me what a bad choice that was, about how stupid I am for trying it." She said, without any malice, she knew she dissevered this lecture

" Now what kind of a human being would I be to do that? Your hurt enough, why should I add to your pain, I have done enough already. I am not god, I have no right to judge or condemn you. What you did is between you and Him, I... If I was going to say anything, it would be welcome to the club." At that he showed her his wrists, they both had deep scares, and a lot of them.

" Why.."

" I wanted the pain to stop, I wanted to to leave this stupid world, full of all this bull."

" Yea, I know what you mean."

" You know, I didn't poison that juice." He said, kindly. She drank it. " You shouldn't move, you'll still weak. I... am sorry." He glanced down. Then he reached into his pocket and produced a gun. He flipped it, so that the handle was facing her. Then he used his other hand to put her's on the trigger. He then got on his knees, and put the gun ageist his temple. " This is all I have to offer, I am truly sorry for what I did, for the pain I have caused you. I didn't want to hurt anyone. If there is the least amount of doubt, or hatred in you, pull the trigger. It is all I have left to give you." At that he shut his eyes.

She stared at him. ‘This is what it comes down to.' She looked at him and, for the first time, realized that they were the same, they were both running from demons. " No" was all she said, and she broke into tears.

He spoke to her, told her it was alright. He took back the gun. " If you change your mind, let me know," he said this with a smile, and she laughed, through her tears.

" Look I got some shit to do, gotta do some stuff I have been avoiding. Go right to bed, alright?" He said.

She nodded, " Why do we do these things?"

" Because we are driven to, take care, my friend" At that he turned and left. She stared after him, wondering...

It was written by the poet Milton that satin, the incarnation of evil and hatred, was once the most beautiful angle. Indeed it is accepted dogma that fallen angles are forced to be demons. Hell is always described as burring, not due to fire, but due to a desire to be with god, with true love. Perhaps the worst fate in the universe is to know you could die tomorrow without a soul caring, know that you are doomed to obscurity. A meaningless nightmare on the shores of hell, all that awaits you...

Vic had long ago accept this fate. He was never ‘normal'. He had always alienated himself, by choice. This was because if you let no one in, no one could hurt you. If you always kept your gourd up, nothing could get to you. But this also meant a lonely life, a life devoid of things that people say make life worth living, a live with no compassion, companionship, and without a soul caring who he was, or if he died.

So he sat in a place he had sworn long ago he would never go back to. He was doing an action he said he would never do. He knelt in a church and prayed. He had stopped praying long ago, not out of hatred for god, but hatred for himself. He viewed himself as a lost cause, a hopelessly lost soul, and pray was thus a waste of breath. He had viewed his whole life in terms of comparing himself to what he should be, and every time fell far short of his mark. He had fought the good fight, and had fought it alone, but never allowed himself to enjoy the rewards. And now the true coldness of his life set in, the perfect steralness of a labritory.

But now, the rules had changed. He watched as fate made him bare witness to the same pain and hurt, caste upon another, and he prayed for her soul, not his own:

It doesn't matter anymore, if I live or die. But dear God, king of the universe, I beg you on my knees, with whatever part of my soul is left, don't make another live my life. In 19 years I have asked for nothing, and if you could just save her, I will gladly take my place in hell. Please, don't make me watch this happen, don't make me go through this again. don't...

He heard the door open and a rush of air blow through the sacred temple. He didn't bother to look back, thinking it was just some elderly lady, who had death on her doorstep and was trying to make up for years of callus apathy twords humanity, with prays and donation. The church was small, very humble, and was very poor. Yet it had a holiness about it, it had a truth which was lost in the grand architecture of larger, more rich churches. It was very simply, 2 rows of pews, stain glass portraying Christ doing this and that on either side, the holy alter, with the podium in front. The ruff had a few holes, and birds nested snugly in the rafters of the church.

" Mike..." One word, one simple word, seemed to redefined the universe. He turned and there she was, there was Ayane. She still looked a bit weak, but was alright, for the most part. Her eyes darted around quickly, looking at the various things, and Vic realized that she had probably never been in a church.

" You shouldn't be up, it isn't healthy." His voice seemed to echo that of a mother, tell her child to stay in bed sternly, but with unyeildeeding compassion. He still hadn't looked up, this was mainly because he wept, and was ashamed of it.

" Yes but.." She spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the slumbering christchan deity and invoke it's wrath. " But you have been gone for almost 7 hours, I was getting a little worried."

" Really, why?" He asked it genuinely, wanting to know.

" I... Don't know, I just was" Her glance fell on the cross. " What a way to die"

" Really."

" I don't understand that, if he was a god, then why did he allow himself to die like that"

" Because he knew that it was the only way to prove his love to us, the only way to show he really cared."

" Why, why care about people? All they do is hurt you in the end. They leave you worse then when they came, and they are so.. Bad. All they bring is pain."

" Your wrong, Ayane" He said this cautiously, checking every word. He was careful about the name too, for he had read it off her passport. " I told you I won't judge you, and I stick to that, but, I will worn you. The path you have choosing, leads no where. I can tell you this because the path you are on is the same path I am on, I am ahead, though. You said you can't sleep, continue on this path and you won't breath either. You think nights are bad, just wait for the day, the days of restlessness. The days that you know if you stop, even for a second, you will hear their screams, watch them die every time you blink. I have spent 19 years running, hiding, and it got to the point where I was working, or knocked out on sleep pills, nothing else but that, because if I slowed down, my demons would catch up."

" But your safe.."

"Safe, from what, joy, pleaser, any happiness. Yes, I am safe, but at what price? Is life worth living, if you live it alone?"

" I don't want to be hurt again, I.. Won't.." She said this, on the verge of tears, but very comandingly.

" Let me ask you this, if you knew what you know now, would you have still loved your step father?"

" Yes..."

" Why, in the end he caused you pain, he left you, why would you still care? Could it be that even the strongest soul, needs someone to help bear her burden?" His glance fell upon the cross, and he waited for her reply. He had put emphisi on her, so now he waited.

" Because what he gave me was worth the price... what are you doing here?" She said this to try and avoid the point he was making, she wasn't ready to accept it.

" I am doing something I haven't done for a long time, I am praying."

" Why, why now?"

" Because now there is something worth praying for. I am a lost cause, I a too far gone to help, I was praying for your sake."

Her eyes shot off the scenery she still looked at and focused on him. There was an alarm, and, at the same time, a gratitude. She looked like a scared rabbit, who had wondered into someone's house, and now looked desparetly for something familiar.

" Me?!"

" Yes, it is not to late for you. You still have a chance to escape my fate, still have a chance to be.. human. I was praying that you don't do what I have done, don't shut everyone out. If you do, a sad thing will happen, you will have endless days and sleepless nights, every moment you are conscious becoming a torrent of pain, and then, one day, you'll wake up and fell the pain, but you won't know why. You will see yourself, but not know who you are, you will be adrift in a sea of forsaken souls, to dead to be living, and to living to be dead. You will be like me." He said this not with sadness, but in a factual tone, and his voice was that of a broken soul and heavy heart.

" Why, why not pray for yourself as well?"

" I told you I am lost, there is no hope..."

" I think there is... perhaps there is hope for both of us" At that she walked up, sat down next to him, got on her knees, and began to pray...

We stand on the brink of a new age, an age where technology seems to make anything possible, and we wonder. Pandora had opened the box because of it's beauty, and her insayshable(?) curiosity, so to had Vic opened the box into a new realm. Questions that have haunted scientist philosophers and all people for years must be answered, be for we destroy ourselves. The questions, what does it mean to be a human? And more importantly Who Am I?

He floated, suspended in a liquid, his body become more powerful. When Vic had escaped efforts to finish project delta were redoubled, and now the fruits of Vic's labors were being scene. Donovan, the head of DOATECH stood and marveled. This creature that was about to be born was unlike any that ever had been. The teams of Biotechnologes, genetics, and cybernetes, had pulled out all the stops, and now there was this. They were all too blind to see an odveous thing, survival of the fittest, that the stronger species would survive.. This creature had thereticly unchecked power, and strength, what could control it? .But these thoughts did not occur to the research team, they were to consumed with seeing if they could, to think if they should. And these thoughts didn't occur to Donovan either, he was driven by his only hunger, the hunger for power. So in the dark and hellish lab, where experiments that should never have been done, were being preformed, floated the infantile angle of death, the fall of man.

They were using the most advance everything. The best and the brightest, and the most high tech equipment., DNA from all the fighters had been synthesized and put together in a way that, up to Vic, was impossible. Other DNA was added as well, DNA from telepaths, wonder workers, and military genuses. On top of that, all the negatives, emotions, mercy, everything like that, had been screened out, and the strength were enhanced. And so a being that was never meant to be, was now becoming itself.

So now, in the most ungodly place on earth, sat it. Donovan gazed at it. It sat in a small bunker, with wall to wall super computers and test tubs and other, more advanced, tools. It was in an incubation chamber, which was a clear tank that was see through. It was being saturated with all their DNA and accelerated growth technology was implemented. It had cords and wires going into and out of it's body. It had been made a man, though it was sterile. And it's name was ‘exp. 12 -4 delta', which was tattooed across it's arm. It was going to be of short stature, only 5"1 ft.. This was so it could more easily maneuver.

Donovan laughed to himself:

Vic has know idea what he will be up against. On top of his work, several cibernet attachments have been added, his ESP has been enhanced 10 fold of what Vic thinks it will be, and Vic won't expect him for another 2 weeks, we should be done in 3 days, then he'll hunt all those bastereds down and kill them.

They had been working round the clock, and were nearing the end of their experiments. It, as far as they could tell, exceeded all expectations. It's brain waves were off the chart, much faster and more strong then an average man. And the cibernctes could only add to it.

" Soon" he said, pressing his hands to the glass, like a kid looking into a candy store. "Soon...."

" What is that, my love?" This voice came from a hauntingly familiar voice. The voice was Kasumi's, or should have been hers. There, at the heavily guarded entrance to the secret bunker, stood a clone of her. There were about 13 of them total, 12 of them were an elite guard, protecting the bunker, and this 13 was this one. She was little more then a love slave to Donovan, programed for perfect obedience and unquestioning loyalty. Certain ‘traits' were made more prevalent, yet, somehow, much of Kasumi true beauty, was lost. In any case, the who of what she was was distroyed, and all that stod before him now was a shell, an empty vessal.

" Soon we will have Him, then we will have true power, the world will be mine."

" As it should be, love." This soulless puppet said. She was not human, not really anyways. The things that make us human, the need to question, to search, to yearn, were all lost concepts to her, and she lived in blissful ignorance. Not knowing the pain that defines each and everyone.

" I wonder, what should be done with Vic?"

" How so, love?"

" Well, he could still be useful, none of this would have been possible without him, it seems such a waste. On top of that I would like very much to watch him die."

" Then have you creation bring him to you alive. Then we could watch him die, together."

" Perhaps you are right. Let us go to bed." These words were not spoken tenderly, but with command, she was truly his.

And so we leave this godless scene, where the joy and miracle of life are reduced to some test tub trick, where the true majesty and poetry of God is replaced with the hard emotionless, soulless, super computer. A place where men lose there very souls, a place that is spawning the ultiment demom, the true fall of man...

It has been said, time and time again, by countless prophets, poets, priest, and philosophers that love is all that is. That love is the only true way to happiness. What is this love? This question has torment many for ages, because if we understand it, then we can control it We can own it, and have it forever. But it does not work that way.. In the end, some call it little more then a drug, something to delude the harsh truths of life with, an addiction. But there seems to be much more to it then that, it seems to be, what we were meant to do, the only thing to quell our eternal thirst...

Kasumi wondered where Vic had gone, she hadn't scene him all day. It had been her, who was Vic assistant, her who saw the full extent of what their code had done. But this didn't matter anymore, all that mattered was him, or, more well put, them. Perhaps the entities know as Vic and Kasumi had died that night on the beach, and in their place, was this new being. This carried a price, a longing to feel complete, a need to be with each other, always.

It seems odd, they had know each other for mere days, and yet, there is something that many never find in lifetimes. Perhaps it was a desperate attempt of 2 rejects to escape from their misery. Perhaps it would be better to think that ‘the heart has it's own reasons, of which reason knows nothing of*'. In any case, the feeling were as real as anything else in this world.

She had not been so concerned about what he was doing, or where he was, just sad that they weren't together, weren't complete. She sat in a tree near the hotel, and stared into the blue sky. It was another splendid day in paradise, with sun falling through the trees and casting intricate shadows that moved with the eeb and flow of time. She had sat there for about an hour, and felt some comfort from nature. She quietly listen to the ocean, and smelled the breeze, and found comfort as the birds called to their mates, as she called, with her soul, to her's.

She wasn't sure what to think, neither of them were. It was as if everything that was once used to define life, was now gone. It was a wonderful world, and she looked on it now, with the same awe of a small child, laying their eyes on thing for the first time. Questions of weather or not he was he one, if they were going to fast, all never crossed her mind. She was now in a completely different world then those who would ask. She thought back, to the night before:

Vic had worked long and hard to ward off death, every so often a swear or cuss slipping through his lips, as a witch doctor used ancient incarnations. He had finished and looked at her drowsily. They talked, and gently held each other, in the cool breeze, he had then sent her to her room, ‘it was too late for any rational person to be up' he had said. He then promised to meet her tomorrow, and assured her that Ayane would be fine, at least physically. Then, as all things must, their embrace was broken, and she was left alone, but with hope for the future left in her mind...

He wasn't there in the morning and, with some inquiry, learned he had borrowed a car and had ‘gone to run some errons.' Ayane had gone missing too, later in the day. She knew because she had been the one to care for Ayane. And for these few hours, they both felt like sisters again, like dead days were back. Now, though, she simply looked longingly into the sky, and wondered...

Then she heard it, far off at first. It was the sound of her salvation, of her freedom from her torment. It was not the grand trumpeting of heaven, not a quirror of angles, but, simply, was an old broken down car eigen. Yet she knew, in this unlikely chariot, rode her love. She leaped out of the tree with the grace and finesse of a butterfly, and the exsitment of a child. She landed on the balcony, and ran for the door. There she stopped short, wanting to regain her composer, not wanting to look to needy. As she breathed, he ran out, he saw her and stopped, mid sprit...

" I... ahh,....well see... I wanted to see you... er.. Ah.." He said this in a half happy tone, for seeing her, and a half embarraced one, for his running and all that.

She put her finger to her lips, knowingly. She then looked at him, and the both burst out laughing, out of joy. They walked over to the rail and just stared out into space, side by side. And they both knew, that this was right. Kasumi looked at him and thought:

What I wouldn't give for him to hold me, like he did on the beach, just one more time, and I'll be happy, I will be content, please god. Awwww, this is much harder then waiting...

At that she sneezed. And he reached over and put his arm around her, to keep her warm, in 95* heat. Her heart leaped, both of theirs did. It was as if some kinder deity had taking pity on the them, had given them this moment, to have forever. And they slowly got closer and closer together, each become more and more content with the world, with how things were, with themselves.

They stood there a long time, just listening. They didn't say anything, words could only take away from the beauty of the scene. Also they were both scared that if they spoke, they might wake up. But they slowly became sure of the others exsistance, and a conversation began.

" Where did you go" Said Kasumi, gently, kindly, genuinely wanting to know.

" I had some things to do, some business I had to take care of."

" ohh, like?"

" Just some ghoasts from my past, needed to be layed to rest, and some insurance about the future, about our future, was needed." He said this sincerely, and she loved him all the more for it.

" I see..." She could feel he did not want to go into details, and was fine with it. She didn't want to ruin the moment, neither of them did.

" I saw your sister, today. Did she just escape from her bed?"

" Yea, kinda, I guess. Where did you see her?"

" In a church."

"And?"

"She has far to much of me in her..."

This brought her eyes up, and a flash of jealousy and rage crossed her face:

What does he mean by that?! Is he saying...

" Nothing like that," he said, sensing her anger, " Just she is too much like me, too alone, or perhaps, what I used to be like. She hasn't found her Kasumi... I guess..."

This brought immediate blushing to her face, and she quickly looked down. The scene continued on for several more minutes, they talked of this and that. Then, the real world came back...

" Well comrade Vic, as I live and breath." This came from a heavily accented Russian man, who stood on the balcony. He was old, yet, something about him seemed to reek of bad news. Everything about this man seemed to echo some darkness, not in him, but something he took with him, some burden, a curse. And as this prophet of doom gazed at them, they Kasumi knew, this was bad...