A/N: It's been a really, really, REALLY long time, since I've even had the motivation to write anything new, if I'm being plain and honest here. Lately, I've been going through a rough patch for the past several months, yet that doesn't mean I can abandon this fic, considering the massive amounts of love and support I've gotten for this so far. I hope my returning readers aren't too upset, and to my new viewers, welcome, and I hope you enjoy. Who knows, maybe writing again in this fashion will help us all work out some inner demons. This is Chapter IV: The Lonely Bones

Chapter IV: The Lonely Bones

Seconds turned to minutes turned to hours, fumbling blindly through the dark caves making up the Mountain of the All-Father as Tatsumi continued on his present course. As deep and cavernous as this hole seemed to be, Tatsumi felt trapped, the shadows inhabiting the cave seeming to close in on him as his chest tightened, his breathing shallow as he scrabbled across loose rock and stone, desperate to reach the end of the tunnel stretching down into the dark in front of him. Down, down, and down further still he trudged, each step propelling him further and further into that dark maw.

He had been walking through the dark for what had seemed like an eternity. On and on the darkness stretched in front of him, thick and suffocating in its entirety. He was forced to navigate mostly by feel, tumbling and slipping over the rocky ground of the dusty tunnel that continued ever-deeper into the earth. Thick-soled boots dug into the dirt, the young warrior making steady progress through the cave, his mind scattered and hazy as his legs operated on autopilot, pushing him onward. Knees covered in dust, with cuts and scrapes adorning his hands from his innumerable tumblings, two thoughts buzzed throughout his head as his eyes strained for any sign of light in the vast darkness.

"Gotta save Esdese."

"Gotta get home."

He trudged forward, driven by a burning desire to free his… friend?

Companion?

Lover?

Shaking his head in frustration - he'd never even had a lover - Tatsumi groaned silently to himself. Things were sooo much easier when a certain blue-haired general with the powers of an icy demon at her disposal wasn't hell-bent on claiming him for herself in every sense of the word. That thought alone made Tatsumi shudder.

What did that mean exactly? How far was she willing to go? Images of the General's lithe and muscular form came unbidden to his mind, his blood turning hot despite his best efforts.

The young warrior blushed, struggling and shaking to clear his head. Now was not the time for such thoughts. He could ponder the situation later, when he wasn't in some dark, Empire-forsaken cave, on some Gods-forsaken island in the middle of the damn sea.

He huffed derisively to himself. 'Leave it to you, Tatsumi,' he thought to himself, 'to get caught up on an island in the middle of nowhere, with the one person that everyone is afraid of even looking at. Oh, and let's not forget the whole, 'being held as guests' of a tribe of ancient island natives, shall we? Better yet, once I'm done here - if I even make it out of here alive, that is - how in the fuck are we supposed to get back home?'

Sighing to himself once more in lamentation of his accursed lot in life, he continued his seemingly endless march, with only the crunching sound of stone under foot to keep him company.

"Gotta save Esdese."

"Gotta get home."

Home.

Now that was a concept that became increasingly unfamiliar to Tatsumi over the course of the last several tumultuous months. All he'd known before venturing to the Capital was his small village: the small forge where he, Sayo and Ieyasu would train with their master; the thick forests and gushing rivers, where he and his friends would hunt and train and play, longing for the chance to make their mark on the world; staring with wonder, latched onto every word, listening with baited breath as his master sat he and his friends around the campfire, crackling embers providing another layer to the soft song of the earth that played as eternal ambiance while their Sensei spun a wild yarn of daring deeds and adventure, telling them stories and tales from his journeys throughout the world; all of these once-familiar things had been taken from Tatsumi, a young man who just wanted to help his village, as he was now engulfed in a war that threatened to tear apart the tenuous peace of an entire nation.

No, home was something that Tatsumi had only a vague recollection of. Sure, Night Raid housed him, as well as the other agents within the Capital, but an organization comprised of trained killers and assassins isn't one to stay in one place for too long. Safe house floors, dusty attics and dank, cobweb-ridden basements were the norm for a young man in such a trade; outside of such, his only brief respites were the few occasions of "down-time" he'd spent at the old headquarters with Night Raid, and, more often than not, the other members of the rag-tag band of assassins were rotating in and out on missions, going from one high-profile target to the next, systematically trying to cripple the Empire at every twist and turn. A giant, well-oiled machine in which all the pieces were constantly rotating, Night Raid was always on the go, meaning that our young hero was never far behind.

No, constantly running missions, moving from one supposedly-hidden safe house to another, and fighting for his life meant that "home," in the traditional sense of the word, was fast becoming nothing but a distant memory for Tatsumi.

Still, he pushed forward, those same fading memories driving him one step after another, down, into the dark.

"Gotta save Esdese."

"Gotta get home."

That endless, ceaseless mantra spurred Tatsumi on, deep into the bowels of the mountain that supposedly contained all the answers that he sought, or so he'd hoped. He'd hate to have come all this way for nothing. Grumbling to himself, he continued onward, dragging the toes of his boots through the dirt. Unluckily for him, the tip of Tatsumi's right boot caught on a protruding rock, sending the young warrior sprawling end over end as he coughed up dust, shaking himself off blindly in the inky black darkness of the tunnel.

"Stupid elder. Stupid Ghinjou. Stupid Esdese. Stupid portal. Stupid war. Stupid Jaegers. Stupid Night Raid."

Here he fumbled as he tried to stand, falling to his knees with breath catching in his throat as the dust around him began to settle. His chest heaved as his hands crept up to grip his shoulders as brown hair fell untended into his vision; not that that sense served any purpose in a pitch black cave.

From the sudden rush of pain and discomfort from the stone underneath his collapsed body, to the pervading darkness creeping ever closer, to the constant stress coupled with too little sleep: all these and more crashed against Tatsumi like a flood, threatening to break down his mental barriers and drive him mad in the cold darkness of the mountain.

His shoulders shook silently as the first of many tears made their way down his face, etching stark lines into the contrast of the dirt and mud coating his features. His thoughts raced frantically, zipping around his head like a thousand tiny arrows as his heart pumped a mile a minute, the darkness seeming to inch ever closer, its inky tendrils reaching out from beyond the veil and threatening to snuff him out.

"Chelsea, and Su-san… Lubbock, Najenda, Leone… Mine… Akame…"

His mind drifted to his new "family;" the membered of the esteemed - or infamous, depending on your point of view - group of assassins known as Night Raid. The tears streamed freely now, dripping down his nose and chin to fall silently into the dirt below, body racking with silent sobs as the fear of never seeing them again came unbidden to his mind. He missed them. He missed them so much that it hurt. They had taken him in, sheltered him, and taught him as one of their own, and for that he was more than grateful; he loved them, but he feared that, trapped here in this dark tunnel, on this forsaken island in the middle of the sea, that he would never see them again, and that thought caused him to rock back and forth as tears and soft sobs came from his hunched form.

The darkness, silent and smooth as silk, crept ever closer, seeming to feed off his turmoil and grow thicker and more suffocating as time passed.

"Bulat…Sheele…Sayo and Ieyasu…why-"

His mind drifted to thoughts of comrades past, his shoulders heaving as the tears streaming freely now cut watery streaks into the dirt on his face.

— Flashback —

"Guys, wait!"

Sayo and Ieyasu chuckled, turning to watch their long time friend and companion, a young boy named Tatsumi, as he struggled to catch up. Laughing softly together, they watched as the brown haired boy sprinted after the duo with abandon, intent on not being left behind by his life-long friends; as Tatsumi reached the duo, he heaved deep, arduous breaths, struggling to regain his composure as his friends shared another small laugh at his expense.

Ieyasu playfully punched his friend's shoulder. "Did you really think we'd leave you behind, idiot," he asked, chortling softly to himself as Tatsumi rubbed the offended body part in mock pain, glowering at his friend.

Sayo giggled at the two's antics.

"What did the elder want, anyway," she asked, looking pointedly at Tatsumi as she composed herself.

"He just wanted to give me this," he huffed as he stood upright, shaking his brown hair from his face, bringing a wooden totem from out of his pack to show the two friends.

"What's it for," asked Ieyasu, puzzled as he inspected the talisman. He took it from Tatsumi's hands, turning it end over end, the wood smooth in his rough, calloused hands.

Tatsumi shrugged, watching as Ieyasu gazed curiously down at the wooden statue in his hands.

"He said to keep it on us, for the good fortune of the gods would smile upon our journey, or something like that."

Ieyasu chuckled again, tossing the statue lightly back to the brunette. "Leave it to the old man to send us off with one more parting gift."

Sayo caught the boys' attention with a soft whistle.

"Come on, we need to make it to the gorge by night fall," she said, turning to continue their trek. "We can set up camp there for the night before we start heading towards the Capital proper."

Without further hesitation, she readjusted her pack, filled with provisions and necessities alike to aid the group on the journey through the country side, and set off down the worn dirt path towards the Imperial Capital.

The two boys looked at each other, laughing good-naturedly before jogging to catch up with their long-time friend as they continued their first journey together.

Within several hours, dusk had approached the group as they neared the edge of the gorge that Sayo had mentioned. The three came out from the edge of the forest as the mountains opened up in front of them, the same dirt path they'd been taking making its way to and fro through the floor of the massive gorge separating them from the lands of the Imperial Capital. Painted into the cliffside as if by a great artist, the reddish-brown hue of the stone of the gorge shone brightly in the amber light of the setting sun as the dying light of day was reflected throughout the rocks, the three staring in wonder of the beauty of the gorge. However, they couldn't admire the view for any longer than they'd let themselves already. Finding shelter took first priority at the moment, especially with night fast approaching the countryside. After several minutes of searching the surrounding area, Sayo uncovered a small cave at the mouth of the gorge, nestled within a small outcropping of rock, and beckoned the two boys to follow her. The three drew their swords, creeping into the cave in order to check for any sort of danger.

The cave had a mouth roughly seven feet in height, and as wide as ten feet, with the ceiling of the cave opening up an extra foot once one stepped through into its interior. In the ceiling of the cave, small openings in the rock above allowed the dying sunlight to leak down into the cave, giving just enough illumination that the trio could check for any threats.

After several minutes of sweeping the cave for any dangers, the three set about making camp for the night, quickly constructing a fire from dried timber recovered from the edge of the forest behind them as sleeping bags were unfurled around the warmth of the fire.

Rations were opened and heated over the flame, small conversations between the three drifting up with the smoke from the fire, up and out of the cave and into the night. They talked long into the night; about their pasts, about their futures; their hopes, dreams and desires laid bare between each other. Three friends, out of their home on their first journey of self-discovery. They all shivered in excitement at the thought, the anticipation keeping them awake late into the night as the moon crept over the edge of the horizon and into the night sky, bathing the gorge beneath in its pale glow.

There, in the thick inky blackness of the night outside the warmth of the cave, a set of eyes watched the dying embers of their camp fire as the three figures around settled in for the night. His grin threatened to split his face in half as he licked his lips in apprehension. Turning, he bolted from his hiding place among the upper levels of the rocks and into the gorge proper, eager to tell his master what he had found.

—

A soft breeze made its way lazily down the length of the gorge, kicking up minuscule granules of dust and wafting softly into the cave of the sleeping trio as night continued its watch over the earth. Despite the soft gusts of wind, all was still, all was quiet - except for the four pairs of booted feet, making their way out of the gorge, over the rock and towards the mouth of the cave. Wicked daggers glinted in the light of the moon, their blades sinister and curved, tapering into fierce points as the group of bandits moved swiftly from one rock outcrop to another, quickly darting in and out of sight as they moved in on their targets.

As they approached the mouth of the cave, the leader stopped, quickly giving out orders in harsh whispers. Cementing their plan of attack, evil - and in most cases, toothless - grins split their harsh and weathered features as they raised their daggers into ready positions, poised to take the lives of the travelers three as they pillaged the fallen of their goods for their own spoils. After all, in the world of bandits, it was kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. Such were the rules of engagement for a band such as this.

Get yours, before they get yours.

Two bandits took positions at the mouth of the cave, turning their backs to the trio who dwelt within and gazing out over the rocks, the moon casting just enough light over the land for them to keep watch. The third grunt began circling the outskirts of the wide room of the stone as the leader, crouching and moving silently as a mouse, crept over the rocks towards his intended targets.

As the leader and head of the group of four bandits closed in, his beady black eyes and yellow teeth gleaming wickedly in the moonlight, his booted foot sent an errant rock skittering across the stone floor of the cave, and one of the three sleeping teens stirred.

A stroke of luck, or fate itself, no one could be sure, but the leader cursed heatedly under his breath regardless at his misfortune.

His eyes ripped open, and, rising with a small yelp, the brown head of Tatsumi lifted from his pillow as if from an unpleasant dream into a very unpleasant reality, bleary green eyes quickly being shaken open as his head whipped around, catching sight of a shadowy figure not several feet away. Sleep cleared from his vision as his breath caught in his throat, the dagger of the bandit crouched just out of reach glinting wickedly in the moonlight of the cave. The bandit cursed once more, taking a hasty step forward and raising his dagger higher, poised to bring it down swiftly on Tatsumi's once-sleeping form. Thinking quickly, Tatsumi threw himself to the side and towards the dying fire, and with a heave, used his hand to send embers flying into the face of the bandit leader.

Tatsumi grimaced, the still-hot embers burning his hand, but his hasty tactic had worked. The bandit leader cried out as the embers from the fire flew up into his face, slashing in front of him as he covered his eyes and nose with his free hand. With a start, the other two warriors jolted upright from their slumber as Tatsumi scrambled out of his sleeping bag, snatching up his sword as the bandit at the edge of the cave rushed in, the remaining two at the mouth of the cave darting in and helping clear the leader of the burning embers.

Tatsumi parried a wicked stab from the second bandit, deflecting his dagger down and to his left as he threw his elbow into the head of his attacker. With a resounding crack that echoed through the cave, Tatsumi's elbow connected with the bandit's cranium, sending the man tumbling back as he struggled to shake his head from the stars that filled his vision. At that moment, Ieyasu charged forth with a cry, delivering a broad slash that caught the bandit by the arm, tearing through his flesh as the man cried out and spun back on his heels, carried by the momentum of the strike.

Sayo and Tatsumi approached the remaining bandits as Ieyasu stepped in to deal with the wounded one. Rushing toward the mouth of the cave, Sayo came up from a crouch in a vicious slice aimed for the bandit leader, only to be intercepted by one of his goons, crossing blades with her before kicking her away and pursuing the young girl. She brandished her sword in retaliation as she quickly recovered her footing, bringing it down in an overhead chop that was deflected easily by the bandit; undeterred, she used the momentum of her strike to spin on the balls of her feet, coming up in a vicious spinning slash that caught the bandit in his side, imbedding itself in his ribcage before she pulled it free as she followed through with her attack. Sayo kicked his bleeding body away as the man struggled to breathe, turning to rush towards the mouth of the cave as the bandit's blood coated the stone floor of the cave, his life force seeping back into the earth below.

Tatsumi, meanwhile, had launched himself at the remaining two, delivering a vicious scissor kick to the head of the remaining bandit grunt. The kick landed solidly, rattling his bones as Tatsumi landed and stumbled back, watching as the grunt brought both hands up to his head as he struggled to maintain his equilibrium from the kick. As the grunt spun away shaking his head, Tatsumi sunk into a crouch, focusing on the bandit leader who began to step in, and, rapidly shifting his weight, took a vicious upward swing at the leader as he threw up his dagger to connect with Tatsumi's sword, beady eyes - formerly blackened with soot - clearing to lock with Tatsumi's emerald gaze.

The two struggled for a moment, trading blows with each other as sweat dripped from their forms from the exertion before, without warning, Tatsumi felt a sharp boot connect with his side as the other bandit reentered the fray, reeling from the impact and clutching his ribs as the two remaining highwaymen repositioned themselves for another attack, wicked sneers etched into their faces.

Tatsumi was caught by Sayo, who helped him readjust as he struggled to catch his breath from the kick to his ribs. Ieyasu stepped forward in front of the two, brandishing his bloody sword and spitting up some blood of his own as he wiped his mouth, glaring at the two remaining thieves and would-be murderers, daring them to come closer. Looking at each other, the bandits nodded, each withdrawing a black orb from underneath their cloaks. With wicked grins, they covered their faces and slammed the orbs into the earth, which emitted two bright flashes of light and sound that blinded and disoriented the recovering trio. Caught unawares, and already reeling, Tatsumi spun away from Sayo to cover his head from the sudden attack of light and sound, only to collide with the wall of the cave. He slipped, his feet taken from under him as his head connected with the rock wall of the cave, and as he spun down to the ground, consciousness quickly losing its hold, his last vision was that of Ieyasu and Sayo shaking off their stunned states and sprinting towards their assailants as darkness blissfully enveloped him.

—

Several hours later, and as day began to break, Tatsumi began to stir, sitting up groggily from his place on the stone floor of the cave and shaking his head to try and clear away the dull throb of pain that remained. Looking around, trying to figure out what had happened since his loss of consciousness, his heart rate quickened as he noticed the distinct presence of two dead bandits within his cave, and a distinct lack of Sayo or Ieyasu.

What had happened? The last thing he remembered was that bright flash of light, then he hit his head and everything went dark. That's when it clicked. They'd been attacked, awoken in the dead of night by a group of bandits, and they had fought them to a standstill before the last bandits standing had used some kind of flat bomb to make their escape. Seeing as he was the last (living) being in the cave, he inferred that his two friends had given chase. Were they alright? Did they get hurt, or take out the bandits? A million scenarios played in his head as he looked around, the only sight greeting him being the bleeding corpses of two bandits and a small blackened circle where their fire had burned out.

He tried shaking his head to wake himself up, giving his own cheek a few slaps to try and shake himself. The rank stench of dying flesh hit his nostrils, and he grimaced, ducking his nose to try and avoid the smell. That was one hell of a way to wake one's self up.

He figured that Ieyasu, as impulsive as he was, had gone after the bandits as they retreated - because, of course, why not? Worse than Tatsumi, Ieyasu couldn't help but rush in, eager to avenge his unconscious friend - and Sayo, not thinking, had most likely immediately given chase, if only to make sure that Ieyasu didn't get himself killed. It was just like his friends, he surmised. They'd all always been hotheaded since childhood, with Sayo being the most reasonable of the three, but even then, her temper was just as bad as the other two when you got her mad enough.

And boy had she seemed mad. Especially when you wake up to someone trying to kill you, or trying to steal your stuff.

Both, in this case.

He huffed, preparing himself to stand. His only job now was to find his friends, and head to the capital. Even if they didn't cross paths again on the road, he was confident they'd make it to the Imperial City, despite the seed of worry that was always planted in his gut. He, Sayo and Ieyasu were some of the best warriors from their generation in their village, so theoretically, he shouldn't have to worry about them too much. If he could hold his own out in the wilderness, surely his pair of friends could make it safely to the capital on their own. Naturally, Tatsumi worried for his best friends - he always worried for those who he considered close - but he knew that four little bandits wouldn't be able to get the drop on them. However, he supposed he counted himself lucky that he'd woken up from his slumber like he'd had.

Speaking of, he had been having the strangest dream before being abruptly awoken and being forced to fight for his life and the lives of his friends. He'd dreamt he'd seen the imperial city up in flames, and in front of him, two figures stood, brandishing wicked weapons that curved and glinted in the light of the burning city.

He paused, scratching his head as he once again tried to collect his thoughts

What did that mean? And why have that dream now?

He shook his head once more, resolving to get his ass in gear instead of wasting more time. Wondering about the strange dream wouldn't find his friends. Rushing to stand, his head spun, but he did his best to shake his mind free from the cobwebs. Gathering his things hastily and shouldering his bag, he stumbled from the cave as he struggled to sheathe his sword. He hadn't bothered with the two bodies rotting away on the floor. They'd show no courtesy to him in life, so Tatsumi would extend the same treatment to them in death. They would decay and return to the earth, to perpetuate the never-ending circle of creation.

The sun crept up higher into the sky as Tatsumi shook his head, brown, disheveled hair bouncing as he threw his hands up to shade his eyes, allowing them to adjust to the harsh light of morning. Taking stock of his surroundings, he found footprints pressed into the loose stone and dirt in front of him. As best a clue as he was bound to get, he began his trek to find his friends, setting off into the gorge in front of him and following the trail of footprints that would lead him out of the gorge, and to the Imperial Capital.

— End Flashback —

He knew what happened next. How it happened, he still wasn't certain, but Tatsumi never did find the bandits - outside of a pair of bloody daggers and a tattered black cloak fluttering in the wind - and resolved to continue towards the capital, confident that his two best friends would have already made it and started on their work to help their village. What he found when he reached the city was anything but what he had been hoping for.

Tatsumi made it to the Imperial Capital in search of his friends and a better life for his people back home, but instead stumbled headlong into a scene from a nightmare, having found his two best friends - his brother and sister in all but blood since childhood - strung up to die in the mansion of one of the many aristocrats of the Capital.

He was loathe to admit it, but a part of him died that day, seeing his best friends ease their last breaths as their life left their young bodies. As a part of him died in that moment, so did a change happen within his soul, the soft edges beginning to harden as he mercilessly cut down the young girl responsible for the kidnap and torture of his friends. She would pay for her crimes. So would they all. But Sayo, and Ieyasu? They shouldn't have had to die. They shouldn't have had to suffer the unfairness and injustice they'd been subjected to.

'How is this fair at all,' he asked himself? How, indeed, was it fair that the Empire, or Fate, or whatever cosmic deity decided to cast their ire his way at that moment, continually cut down everything, and every one, closest to him? Everything in his life, whether in part or completely, was taken from him in an eerily systematic fashion, leaving his mind to spiral down into the dark well of hopelessness and despair.

The shadows in the tunnel loomed ever closer, seeming to take on a mind of their own as they crept over Tatsumi's prone form as he sobbed into the dark.

He couldn't save his friends.

He couldn't save his family.

He couldn't save anyone.

Tatsumi's breath came in ragged gasps as he sobbed into the stifling darkness, his mind awash with the pain and anguish of not being strong enough to protect what mattered most in his world.

"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry-"

His thoughts were interrupted by the most quiet of sounds. Whispers, soothing sounds of a creature both a part of this reality and of something greater, reached his ears, coaching him to breathe, to ease his mind and his body so that he could return to his former focused state. Tatsumi gripped the hilt of Incursio for stability, and could have sworn that its key reacted to his touch by emitting a comfortable warmth beneath his fingers. Not really caring where this mysterious advice came from, he decided to follow the instructions of the strange disembodied whispers, bringing his staggered breathing to a standstill as he fought for control of his sanity.

Struggling to clear his mind, he took ragged, rattling breaths to try to bring his heart rate under control. Panic would serve him no good in the dark. He knew that the only way out of this hell-hole would be to gain control over himself, before he set about tackling the remaining challenges left in this Gods-forsaken test that he'd been forced to endure. Heaving a great sigh, he picked himself up from the dirt, hand gripped firmly onto the hilt of Incursio as the key sent wave after wave of reassuring warmth up through his fingers, the tangibility of his Teigu doing wonders to ground his mind back in reality as he collected himself.

It was then that he heard it in earnest. A distant crack-pop of burning wood, with the softest hiss of an undertone - that of a freshly lit fire, like the ones he'd made on his hunting trips so, so many moons ago, back in his home village - began echoing its way down the tunnel. Tatsumi stood frozen, breath hitched in his throat as he waited for something, anything, to happen, the tunnel returning once again to silence. Oh how he waited, the moments feeling like hours as he strained to hear something, anything, to prove that he wasn't losing his mind.

He hadn't just been hearing things, right?

Then, he heard the sound again. Truly, the familiar sound hit him like a brick with the faint hiss-pop-crackle of the embers of a fire.

His eyes widened, staring down the length of the tunnel, and he swore he could see the barest hint of the end of the dark expanse that engulfed him.

He had found the way out.

Like a rocket, he was off, tearing down the dark tunnel with reckless abandon, booted feet slamming into the floor of the tunnel as he stumbled and vaulted over the rocky terrain. He was so close, he could hear it, feel the warmth of the fires as the light engulfed him. He was going to get out.

Out of the tunnel.

Out of the dark.

He surged forward, not caring what he found. All Tatsumi knew was that there WAS an end to the tunnel.

He was going to save Esdese.

He was going to get off this island.

He was going home.

XxXxX

Dawn arrived much sooner than Bhatim would have liked, the soft winds carried by the air of the sea washing over the jungle to caress its leaves like that of an anxious lover. Standing atop the giant throne of his tribe and staring out over the jungle, he watched the red sun peek its way above the trees, bathing the tropical island in an eerie crimson glow as the world came to life. Plants began stretching, searching for the sun as animals emerged from their burrows to eke out a living for another day. However, the wild nature of the jungle stayed far and away from the clearing of the throne, as if Mother Earth herself could sense the tense atmosphere surrounding the island village.

His eyes shifted from the great scene of life taking place, to the creature bound at the foot of their great pyramid. Below, screaming and gnashing with all the finesse of a caged animal, a young woman lay bound, spread-eagle and chained, to a circular stone dais, gnashing and hissing and spitting against her captors as pale blue hair whipped around her in a frenzy. The dull, droning chant of his people, circled around the dais with forms bent to the earth, rose to meet his ears, imploring the spirits of the earth to grant them favor as the torches dotting the clearing cast moving shadows across painted olive skin, the faint rays of dawn beginning to slowly peek their way into the clearing. With a sigh, the elder chieftain stood, shaking the dust from his old bones as he rose to his feet. With one last glance at the rising sun, Bhatim began his slow descent down the stone steps, the butt of his staff echoing his footsteps on his way down.

The ritual he was about to perform - one handed down through the centuries by the ancestors of his tribe - was designed to seal away the dark spirits from the Old World. Achievable by the prayers of the Tribe and the guidance of their Chieftain, they would harness the spirits of the Earth, channeling the power of the Old Gods themselves to rip its influence from the host's conscious mind, and to bind the demon in isolation within the deepest part of the container's subconscious, thus negating its influence and control over the host body. Locked away would its powers and influence be, come the day that its container could face down and subjugate the beast within its prison. As the old ways faded away into the past, these powerful spells were passed down only from Chieftain to Chieftain, to keep the teachings of their ancestors alive should a time ever come to pass that would threaten the very existence of their Tribe.

Long gone were the days of old, but in the far reaches of the world, the shadows of the Old Gods remained, their influence seeping into the earth unheeded and unhindered by the bright shining center of this new era.

No, Bhatim would make sure that he and his people were prepared.

And hee had always been prepared. Whether it be learning the ways and rituals of the Old World, to fighting on the field of battle for the honor of his family and home, to helping raise several generations of promising warriors and clanspeople to carry on their legacy, the Chieftain was always one step ahead, soft amber eyes watching over his flock lovingly as if he was a great and gracious shepherd. No, he knew the ways of the Old. He had spent his many years upon the earth journeying, seeking, always searching for more knowledge in order to best protect his tribe.

That search for knowledge had led him to the Mountain of the All-Father itself, where he had - much like Tatsumi was now - gone through a series of challenges in order to meet with the All-Father, hoping to gain insight into the Old Ways so that he might carry his people forward into prosperity.

He had attained that insight, and more. Steeped in ancient power - the power of the Old Gods gifted to him by the All-Father and Chieftains past coursing through his veins - he offered a silent prayer to the heavens, beseeching the Old Gods to smile upon the ritual he was about to perform.

There was no telling how such a seal would apply to the spirit of a Teigu, ancient demons and spirits of old trapped within artifacts created by the very same person who ushered in this new era of power in the world. Oh yes, he knew of the Great Emperor, who created what his people came to refer as the Asha'Rai. Constructs of great and terrible power, fueled by the essence of great demons and beasts from the far corners of the world, these were the tools used to shape the world as the user saw fit. Where he had attained the knowledge and strength required to seal such creatures and imbue their energies into artifacts, Bhatim was not sure of. However, one could not contest the strength and resolve of the man who - even known and spoken of in whispers here, in the south-eastern sea - had brought an entire country to its knees before him.

Such power the man had; such incredible control. It was that control, that power and that fury that allowed him to create the Asha'Rai, or Teigu, as they had come to be called. Stealing the power and strength of the great demons and creatures hiding in the dark corners of the world, and binding them to physical artifacts, to be wielded by those deemed worthy of their power? One could not contest the level of strength necessary to accomplish such a feat. These constructs, these relics of power, would continue to be handed down through the centuries, spreading their power and influence, even after the Great Emperor had long since passed from the world.

The powers of these artifacts were as terrifying as they were great, and subsequently caused most users to drive themselves mad as the spirits within these artifacts began asserting their dominance over their chosen wielders, or hosts. Sealing this demon, with its artifact bound to her very life force, would be no easy task for the aged Elder. Every ounce of strength, every inkling of his vast power, would be focused on locking the beast away, in order to prevent the destruction of his people, or possibly worse. No, this ritual had to be done. Young Esdese was too far gone, the demon within preying too heavily upon her strained psychological state as more and more of its influence flooded through her. Soon, Esdese would cease to exist, the Great Frost Demon's consciousness replacing her own as it once again regained a mortal form in order to wander the earth again.

Bhatim continued to ponder the consequences of the ritual as he slowly approached the thrashing young woman. Worst case scenario, ripping the demon's influence from her conscious mind could shatter her psyche, the sealing of the demonic entity rending her mind and soul asunder and sending all notions of established consciousness and reason to the winds. With nothing to ground her within this plain of existence, Esdese's mind would tumble into itself, removing all traces of humanity and leaving nothing but a husk behind.

No autonomy, no will. No drive.

Nothing.

Empty.

With no traces of humanity left - or really anything, for that matter - one could theoretically keep the body alive, but for what use? Once a person's mind and soul have been shattered at that microscopic a level, piecing such together would be like finding one single needle in a haystack the size of the Imperial Capital.

Oh, and there are about a thousand Imperial Capitals to search through.

With nothing left to do, the close relations of the emptied body would be forced to mercifully end the body's existence, if nothing else out of respect for the memory of the fallen.

One should never have to suffer such a fate.

However, the Elder of the Tribe was left with very little options left. This whole operation was proving as risky as it could prove fruitful, and with how quickly the demon within was beginning to wrest control from the young General, he couldn't afford to wait until Tatsumi, his young champion, could meet with the All-Father. He only hoped that the power he gained would be able to pick up the pieces.

If he survived the trials of the Mountain, that is.

He didn't much like it, but Bhatim had little in the way of choice at this pieces on the board were in motion, the die had been cast; now the world had naught to do but bear witness to this tipping of the scales, this introduction of new powers into the world.

Would such an ancient practice work? Would the beast within be properly contained, and if so, for how long?

Would the Imperial General even survive? And, if so, what would remain when the dust had settled?

The old man put these thoughts from his mind. He had a job to do; a duty to fulfill, to the young woman below, to the Great Tribe which he served, and to the young warrior making his way ever deeper into the Mountain.

His sole purpose had been to usher the Tyrant to greatness, as the prophecy of his ancestors from the before times had decreed. Having starting the Vessel along his path, like a true shepherd of the flock, Bhatim felt lucky to have lived to see the start of this great journey.

The first steps had been taken. The Age of the Beast had come. His Vessel would be the arbiter of the greatest change this world had ever seen.

He would react, adapt and overcome, and crush all opposition, in order to slake his thirst as he strived to turn his ambitions to reality.

Bhatim shuddered at the thought of such change, but his job was to set the young Vessel on his path. Life stopped for no creature, and in order to experience life in its fullest, one must go and live.

The young warrior still had a lot of living to do, before he could tip the balance of power in the world.

With a sigh of resolution, Bhatim continued his slow march down, to face the Demon in one final confrontation.

The gnashing and snarling only grew in volume the closer the old man came. Esdese, once a calculating and composed general of the Imperial Army, had now been reduced to a shackled beast, jagged black markings stretching out from the tattoo at the center of her chest. The air around her fluctuated, growing colder the more she fought against her restraints. Upon catching sight of the Elder's growing form, Esdese whipped into a frenzy, bursts of frigid arctic air coupling her rage-filled howls. At this, the chanting from the islanders grew louder, the flames of the torches seeming to feed off the prayers of the Tribe to grow ever-larger in their braziers.

Bhatim's voice rose to meet the chanting of the Tribe, bringing the sound to a crescendo in the song of an ancient god. A god of heat, of fire and blood, come to impose his will upon all he saw as within his grasp.

The beast on the dais, no longer a woman - or even human, but animal - screamed and gnashed and bit and clawed in defiance, blasts of ice and frost rolling off its form in waves as it howled in fear and rage, bringing to bear the fury of a roiling avalanche. So terrible were its bellows that several of the villagers collapsed, shaken by the all-consuming hatred and rage of an angry force of time immemorial, from the Old World, where gods and demons clashed for dominance, leaving trails of destruction in their wake.

Bhatim's chanting reached its highest as he reached the edge of its dais, bringing his scepter aloft above his head as a great fire began to grow at it's tip, growing ever larger and hotter as the frenzied chanting of the Tribe around offer all their prayers and desires to the Flame. The fires surrounding the clearing, lit and flickering in their braziers, seemed to give their essence to the Great Flame as they diminished and dwindled down to nothing but embers, energy being pulled from them to fuel the blessed fire that the Chieftain now held aloft above his head.

This was more than a seal, more than a spell. This was a beseeching of the blessings of a God.

The beast, as if sensing its imminent imprisonment or worse, began a frenzied fit, straining with every ounce of strength against the great iron chains keeping it in place. Succeeding in ripping one from the soil in a mighty heave, it lashed out, sending it sweeping towards a wall of the islanders. Screams and the sound of crunching bone rose with the coming dawn, bodies crumpling in bloody heaps, bones shattered and crushed and blood running freely over the grass of the clearing as members of the Great Tribe met their end. As the beast gnashed and struck out in anger at its captors, several islanders wrestled with the great demon's host, attempting to subdue the creature and maintain the ritual while more members of the tribe took the place of the fallen.

Esdese's mortal form gnashed and growled and spit, fighting against its captors as the tattoos stretching from the mark of her Teigu began to encompass her entire body, becoming black as night as her eyes, once the color of glacial ice, became a royal, almost sickly purple. Her body was changing to reflect more of the beast within as the seconds passed, black tar oozing from her mouth and eyes, sloughing off her struggling form as it writhed atop the ancient stone of the dais, screams rising ever higher into the morning air.

Those screams would haunt the dreams of those on the island for years to come, for the sound coming from her throat was anything but human. It was the sound of a monster.

The beast wanted out, and would kill its vessel to do so.

Bhatim raised his staff high overhead, the Great Flame - now white hot - condensing to one single, focused point at the tip of his scepter, manifesting as a spherical ball of energy and heat. Bringing the orb down as the chanting of the Tribe reached its absolute maximum height, the ball of light and fire touched the center of Esdese's naked navel, and the world exploded in a blast of fire and ice.

Energy exploded from the center of contact. Islanders were blown off their feet and cast into the forest and away from the clearing, their voices carrying far into the wilderness. The ones closest - and the valiant few fighting to pin the vessel - were vaporized into dust almost immediately. Her screams reached a fever pitch as her muscles, bones and tendons contorted in pain and agony, fire burning away the icy influence of the demon fighting so hard to wrest control. The elder looked down at the writhing, screaming body, watched the orb sink and burn its way into her skin, and smiled, lifting his head to the sun.

He had done it. His father, like his father's father and so on, had prepared for such a day as best as possible. His whole tribe had learned the stories since childhood, of the day when the Great Ritual would come to pass. They knew, they prepared, and they waited. This was the ultimate sacrifice; the ultimate step one could take to ensure the survival of his Clan. He smiled, as the rays of the rising sun warmed his ancient bones, before his body began to turn to dust.

He had done as the Old Gods had asked. He had led his tribe like a True Chieftain, through an era of peace on their remote island, ensuring that his people would live long in prosperity. This ritual was his final act, the final closing of the curtain on his great reign, and as his body was scattered to the winds, he wept in joy, for the future was looking oh so bright.

The Tyrant would have one worthy of serving him, should he and the young woman before him be able to pick up the shattered pieces of themselves in the wake of such change. Bhatim knew he should, but he couldn't bring himself to be worried. He knew that his Champion would bring about change; would cast the Great Shadows from the world, to let the land bathe in the light of the Gods once more.

Bhatim passed from this world, knowing that he had led his Tribe into greatness, and had begun ushering in a new era of power.

The ruby held within the Chieftain's scepter, being the catalyst of his great power, shone bright like a small sun, sending the last of Bhatim's energy coursing into the spell of his Tribe. The wood of the scepter splintered, disintegrating almost immediately, and the ruby, being all that remained of his staff as it too met the ether, clattered down onto the dais, pulsing with heat and life before growing dark and dormant, cold to the touch.

The condensed, spherical ball of fire, of heat and life and warmth, sank into her porcelain skin and spread out from Esdese's navel in a jagged, elegant spiral, burning such a pattern into her pale skin before growing black as night, inked into the essence of her skin itself. The lines shot outwards from the spiral like bolts of inky lightning, wrapped around her torso and ribs and around to her spine, where the seal began to stretch along the length of her spine, zig-zagging across her shoulder blades and the back of her neck like the branches of a great tree. With a final, desperate cry, the demon within was locked in its cage, bound by chains of fire as old as the Elder Gods as it was ripped from Esdese's conscious mind, left to burn within its mental prison for as long as its vessel drew breath. Its essence and energies merged with that of its container's, inexplicably linking its life force directly to hers, for should she die, the great demon of the Northern Winds would surely become one with the ether, gone forever from this world.

With one final scream, the body of the General jerked upwards, one final wave of energy bursting from her form with all the subtlety of a bomb, engulfing the clearing at the foot of the great stone pyramid in fire before her body collapsed to the dirt, heavy chains crumpling down to weigh atop her battered form.

One final burst of fire to send the ashes of the great chieftain scattered to the four winds.

And everything went white, as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky.

XxXxX

Tatsumi burst from the dark tunnel into a well-lit cavern. Panting, he fought to catch his breath, his green eyes focusing on the sight in front of him as he took in the cavernous space that opened up in front of him.

The first thing he noticed was the heat. The confines of the cold, dark tunnel were a stark contrast to the pervasive heat of the cavern, and Tatsumi almost immediately began to break a sweat. Thirty yards in front of him, in the center of the large cavern, stretched a large bonfire, easily reaching over ten feet in the air, that burned with a heat akin to the core of the earth. Roiling fire filled the cavern with its power, stretching high into the air with no signs of ebbing or abating in its intensity. He shifted his gaze upwards, to see black tendrils of smoke listing lazily upwards towards the peak of the mountain and out into the cool morning air, as the moon whispered its final farewell to the coming day. The light of the sun had just begun to peek its way down into the mouth of the cavern from above, leaving much of the place still shrouded in darkness, offset by the flickering of the great fire.

Returning his gaze to the fire at the center of the room, he noticed a kneeling figure facing the fire. Cautiously, he inspected the figure from afar, trying to gauge the threat posed by the being before him. After several moments of contemplation, and seeing no immediate danger but still acting warily, he crept ever closer, seeing no alternative but to face the being in front of him.

After all, where else could he go? There was nowhere to go but up.

As he got closer, he could tell the figure was male. Long black hair reached down to the middle of his naked back, adorned only by a pair of tattered black hakama and a pair of worn wooden sandals. His breathing, even and unlabored, flexed the muscles of his back and shoulders, sinewy fibers stretching and releasing beneath his skin. Judging by this level of physical fitness, Tatsumi hoped he really didn't have to fight this mystery man.

What really drew his attention though, was the pair of great white wings folded against the man's back. Tatsumi had to take a second to stop and simply stare at the pair of pristine, ethereal appendages protruding from the man's back, which ruffled and shook as if he was subconsciously preening himself.

As if sensing the scrutiny, the man's head turned almost imperceptibly to the side, bringing the figure's focus to Tatsumi finally.

"Come," uttered the voice of the man, deep baritone carrying easily across the distance between them, despite crackling of the roaring fire in front of them.

Gulping, Tatsumi walked forward until he was standing parallel to the strange man, still several feet away from the figure who remained seated, staring intently at the fire. Upon closer inspection, Tatsumi noticed the milky white nature of the man's eyes, and did his best not to make it known he was staring.

"Sit," commanded the man. And sit Tatsumi did, trying not to outwardly show his discomfort at being so close to the vast amounts of heat washing over him in waves.

Seconds turned into minutes. Those minutes, in turn, multiplied, the silence between the two broken only by the crackling of the bonfire. Tatsumi stared into the depths of the fire, mind wandering over just about everything that could have led him to this moment, a rare moment of introspection brought on by apparent necessity as he continued to stare into the fire, as if his gaze alone could force the flame to reveal its every secret unto him.

The winged man next to him said nothing, simply content to be aware of the young man's presence next to him as the heat washed over him in soothing waves. He would not speak until the young Vessel did.

It was several moments more before Tatsumi found it in himself to speak.

"You knew I was coming, didn't you?"

It was a simple question, with an equally simple answer.

"Yes."

Well, Tatsumi couldn't fault the man for his honesty.

"Do you know why I'm here?"

At this, the man smiled.

"That depends," he said. "Why don't you tell me? Do you desire fame? Glory? Riches? Power? What brings you to the domain of my master, the Mount of the All-Father?"

Tatsumi opened his mouth to respond, but quickly closed it, retreating into thought as the bonfire roiled before him. At his silence, the winged stranger looked at him out of the corner of his milky eye, raising his left brow ever so slightly. Normally, warriors taking the trials spoke quickly, if only to get away from the vast amounts of heat permeating the cavern.

This young warrior, however, was not only withstanding the heat, but seemed to be adapting to it. His breathing became easier and smoother, and as the minutes passed, his sweating began to diminish, even if only slightly to a more manageable level. Interesting, indeed, was this young one.

Tatsumi, still lost in thought, mulled over the question the angel-man had posed to him moments ago. Honestly, he just wanted to get out of here. It was hot. Far hotter than should be, if he were being honest with himself, but Tatsumi couldn't afford to give up. If it meant getting himself and Esdese out of here, then he would bear whatever necessary.

However, he knew that was only a surface-level desire. Again, in a rare moment of insight for the normally rash young man, he took a moment to think, to really consider the question.

What did he want, more than anything?

Did he want fame, or in a more probable sense, infamy, for his actions in the capital? Did he want money, to help his friends in Night Raid, as well as his village, the place he had called home what felt like eons ago?

Did he want to be rich? Or the most powerful and successful man in the Empire? He honestly didn't know. Fame and riches and power could be great, but at his core, he knew they were only passing fancies. You can always gain more money. You can gain more power.

You could never get back time spent.

And oh, did Tatsumi have so many things he'd wished he'd spent his time on.

Time to spend with Night Raid, his friends who took him in after tragedy struck like a bolt of lightning, over and over and over again. Time to see the Jaegers, while despite having opposing ideals as his own merry band, did offer him some insight into the struggles and worries of those close to the Empire.

Time to spend with Sayo and Ieyasu, and their home. Their village. They were supposed to be the heroes, saving the village by carving a name for themselves in the Empire, bringing home the spoils of war so that their people may eat and be well. All that changed upon coming to the Imperial Capital.

He had seen both sides of the coin. With the insight he had been gifted, he knew the struggles of those on both sides of the conflict that consumed the Empire. That didn't mean he had to change his mind, however. The Empire, the source of the poison flowing through the country, had to go. The common denominator for all the tragedy and heartbreak he'd experienced, whether on one side of the fight or the other, all boiled down to that one entity.

He thought of his home. Or, more specifically, what it meant to him. He wanted somewhere with security, a place that the quiet graces of the Gods would bless, so as to be solely, purely, his. Where he could spend his days and nights with his beloved and precious people, free from worries about war and battle and death.

He wanted a home, in all literal and metaphorical senses of the word.

It was then, after much deliberation, that he finally spoke to the angel.

"I want a home."

The winged man looked at the boy, who was barely rising out of his teens, with all the wonder in the world. He then threw his head back, and ushered a genuine, mighty guffaw, that reverberated throughout the cavern and seemed to excite the bonfire with its melodious notes. Tatsumi jumped out of his skin, not expecting such a reaction out of such a strange individual, especially one he'd just met. Eventually, the laughter subsided, the fire returning to a much more pleasant warmth as the angelic man turned to face Tatsumi.

"You, my child," he began, a genuine smile tugging at his lips, "are the most interesting player in this game of life that I have yet to encounter."

Staring at him in disbelief, Tatsumi stared dumbly as the man continued unabated.

"Home is wherever your heart lies, young one. A true home, one cut from the cloth of your every want and desire, will be a reflection of yourself that you carry with you wherever you go. Home is more a feeling, a sense of purpose and stability, than it is a physical piece of reality. Of course, one could make a home anywhere, but to truly be home, one must surround themselves with entities and beings most precious. Those that care about and rely on you will be your home, just as your gravity will anchor them to you. Never falter, for if you lose sight of that which is most important to you, if you lose your resolve to change the world and shape your own reality, you will never be free of this curse of loneliness that you endure. Now, I believe it is time, young warrior."

With that the man rose to his feet, wings unfurling in all their splendor as he stretched his limbs. His head turned to the boy as milky white eyes bore into Tatsumi's skull.

Tatsumi stood as well, getting an odd feeling in his gut that he should prepare for the worst.

"Show me your resolve."

With but a moment's notice, the man rocketed towards Tatsumi with a great burst of speed. Appearing immediately overheard, Tatsumi could barely bring Incursio's key to bear before a mighty two-handed blow was dealt from above, crashing into his hasty block with the force of a thousand hammers. The sheer impact dented the earth beneath Tatsumi's feet, and he swore that if he hit him any harder, that he would break like glass.

Not giving Tatsumi the chance to recover, the winged assailant lashed out in a vicious kick, sending the boy rocketing towards the edge of the room. Barely activating Incursio in time, the full body armor of the Tyrant encased his body as he smashed into the wall, leaving a rather large crater in wake of his impact. As rubble from the impact clattered to the stone floor, he pulled himself free, unconsciously growling under his breath as he stretched to pop his joints and loosen his muscles for the battle to come. He yanked his glaive, Neuntote, from the earth, spinning it deftly in his hands before snapping to a ready position.

As he watched the winged man hover in the air above him, he idly took notice of the slight changes in his armor. His helmet, once humanoid in appearance, took on a more bestial quality, tapering down into an animalistic point in front of his nose, four slots opening along his face to the crest of the helmet as if the eyes of some great creature peered forth. The armor itself had grown more skintight and scaly in appearance, molding to his flesh as his gauntlets and boots tapered into soft points like great claws. Grasping Neuntote in his right hand, he brandished it length wise behind him, glaive snapped taut and at attention to his back while his left hand was held in front of him like a great and powerful talon, poised to strike. Gone was the armor's traditional cape; in its place extended two black, fuzzy tassels - more like furry appendages, really - from his shoulders, twitching and swaying behind him of their own accord. With Incursio active, he could sense them as some sort of weird extensions of his armor, almost feeling as if they were a part of him too. His green eyes glinted excitedly in the light of the fire as he watched the winged man descend to the earth, every bit the image of an angel sent from the heavens above. His mouth, hidden behind the helmet of Incursio, split in a jagged grin, and he swore he heard the beast within roar in a challenge to their opponent.

Landing softly several yards in front of him, the winged man also slid into a fighting stance, legs loose and spread shoulder-length apart, with hands brought up in front of his body, fingers splayed and curled in as if like claws, ready to strike. His wings narrowed behind him for aerodynamics, ready to unfurl at a moment's notice. His eyes, white as fresh snow on the mountains, narrowed as the corners of his lips turned up in the barest hint of a grin; it had been long, too long, since he had been allowed to have any fun.

He was going to enjoy this.

"I am Sakchai," he declared. "Emissary of the Great All-Father and the Herald of his Victory. I serve as his right hand. If you must seek an audience, you do so at my approval."

Tatsumi sank further into his ready stance, eyes like emerald glinting fiercely in the light of the fire.

"I will administer the test to determine whether or not you are worthy to speak to the All-Father. Prepare yourself."

Deep within himself, a beast of might rose to meet the challenge. Warmth spread through his limbs, readying his body to pounce as a soft glow enveloped his form. The beast of old, that he fought for and with, was awake.

The lonely bones call out for the only comfort they had ever known.

At the same unknown signal, both combatants launched themselves at each other with abandon, both intent to prove their resolve.

XxXxX

The Jaegers, it would seem, had not been having the best of luck recently.

To say that was an understatement would be folly. No, it was safe to say that they weren't having a simple streak of bad luck. It was more akin to bad luck, or karma, or whatever you wanted to call it, seeking them out at every opportunity, to knock them down in the dirt every time they regained their footing.

First, their newest addition to the Jaegers, Tatsumi, had mysteriously vanished. Popular theory, at least according to Wave, was that he was abducted by the members of Night Raid, the criminal organization of assassins hell-bent on causing nothing but trouble for the Empire. While the loss of the young man was regrettable, the Jaeger's could certainly manage in his absence - their leader, however, seemed quite shaken by his departure, which gave Run slight pause and something else to think about.

Next, their head researcher, Dr. Stylish, had not just come up missing, but dead, having attempted to track Tatsumi back to Night Raid's hideout. Filing the possibility of Tatsumi having some sort of connection to the assassins away for later musings, Run continued with his current train of thought. Whether or not Tatsumi was found by Dr. Stylish was never determined, as when the Jaegers had found the good Doctor, they could recover nothing but his rotting corpse, the smoking ruins of an old base in front of him as he lay decaying in the dirt. He had flushed Night Raid from their current hideaway, at the terrible cost of his own life. All knowledge of the group's whereabouts, as well as the locations of his own hidden research bases throughout the empire, died with him, forcing the Jaegers to take a step back to regroup.

That was certain to complicate matters, if only for research and development into new methods to aid in the destruction of Night Raid. Not only had they lost their lead researcher - although, in retrospect, they seemed to take his passing in stride, as becoming one of his experiments never sat well with anyone else in the group - but their esteemed general, Esdese, the Ice Queen herself, had come up missing as of several days ago.

Now, wasn't that odd?

The Empire's most powerful fighter, arguably, just suddenly up and vanishes on a whim after the death of a subordinate and the escape of the object of her affections?

No, Run didn't think that this was simply a coincidence. He knew better than to believe in such random happenstance.

As Esdese-sama's right hand man, it was part of his mission to at least be knowledgable of her whereabouts so as to help her coordinate her assaults on their enemies in conjunction with Imperial orders. Despite his best efforts, she had snuck away under the cover of night, racing off to Gods-knew-where. He sighed to himself, clasping two fingers on the bridge of his nose before taking another sip of the tea clasped in his hands.

They still had a mission to complete, and they honestly couldn't afford to spend days, possibly weeks, searching after her. The mission of the Jaegers would still proceed as planned, whether Esdese led the group or not - but he rather hoped she would turn up again soon. He rather liked serving under her, truth be told. However, these days they did a lot more serving of Esdese-sama's own wishes than the Empire's itself, which, in and of itself, didn't do a whole lot to phase Run in the grand scheme of things, no matter what the Imperial higher-ups thought of their little organization. That didn't bother him in the slightest. He followed her orders because, while on the surface might only serve her best interest, each step towards her goal was a step towards his.

Progress was, after all, progress.

Taking a sip of his tea as he stared out over the city as the sun began its ascent into the heavens, casting the earth in its radiance. No, as long as he was able to accomplish his own ambitions, he would serve his master faithfully and without pause. Whether they had to kill Night Raid, or slaughter every bandit group this side of the Great Sea, it mattered not to Run. Besides, his General proved to have good connections, which had since put him on the path to realizing his goal that had festered for long within the confines of his mind.

Vengeance was an incredible motivator.

It was that same motivator that moved him to organize search parties for their general, filled with only the most zealous soldiers; for without their esteemed leader, they were at risk of being reallocated onto projects that the Emperor and Prime Minister felt more beneficial to the overall well-being of the nation, despite the looming presence of Night Raid. While set back, hopefully, at the loss of their base, Run knew they would recover quickly, and if they didn't find their leader soon, the gang of assassins would be poised to make moves almost unopposed.

He grimaced.

On his command as Esdese-sama's right hand, members of the Jaegers had led three-man cells in search of the general for the last three days, interviewing and searching the city high and low and branching into the outlying towns and provinces surrounding the capital city. Three long, hard days of searching across the great city and the surrounding countryside had, due to complete chance, yielded a great boon; his last search party to return had stumbled across a small town on the eastern edge of the Capital's Central Province, just barely on this side of the mountains, that was entirely sacked to the ground.

Now again, wasn't that the strangest thing?

In most cases, unfortunately, a town being sacked wouldn't be brought to the attention of one such as he, what with the nature of their group, and normally, this could be easily chalked up to bandits, or a faction of the Resistance lashing out at the beast they saw as the Empire. However, Run was given pause and began to wonder, for when an entire town sat burnt to a smoldering heap, such an event turned heads. The latter explanation, at least in his mind, proved to be the most dismissible of the probable causes, as the town was simply not big or profitable enough for the Empire to warrant the attention of the Resistance members, despite the brutal fashion of its destruction. Once inhabited by simple countryfolk, their main exports had been pelts and furs, as well as milk and various products from their modest cattle farms. A simple country town, nestled in the valleys of the eastern border of the Capital's Central Province at the edge of the great Eastern Forest, etched out a modest but comfortable living in this newest of ages. Nothing so special or great, the town just simply existed in modesty, a quiet and unassuming pit stop on the way to and from the City.

Despite the town's overall lack of military value or appeal, the unfortunate residence was demolished, with all the precision and finesse of a bomb. Trees on the outskirts of town sat charred and blackened, as the ashy remains of once proud buildings drifted of their own volition through the winds. The main barn in the town sat burned out and broken upon its hill, blackened and skeletal support beams barely holding upright in the presence of the small gust making its way through the former town. No, this wasn't the sign of an attack by the opposition.

This was the sight of a slaughter.

His reports had read that several burned and blackened pieces of weaponry and farm equipment littered the grounds of the site of such a tragedy, initially leading to the conclusion that bandits had arrived to take what they thought was theirs from the townspeople, burning the poor village to the ground when they were met with resistance. The townspeople, theoretically, had disagreed with - and subsequently lost to - the brutality of the bandits, and the offending party took what they saw as rightfully belonging to them before returning back to their caves and grottos in the wilderness to regroup and strike again.

However, he was once again given pause. If this was a result of a bandit attack, he mused, wouldn't there be some form of remains other than pieces of charred and melted instruments of war, and burnt out remains of once proud homes?

Upon further pondering, Run dismissed the theory of a bandit attack entirely. No, if bandits had done this, they would surely have left something standing, or left someone alive to spread word of their exploits, or occupied the town themselves in order to try and ransom the village for a tidy sum from the nearest Lord. Bandits are rather vain, short-sighted specks of human dust, one must realize. They were loathe to let their exploits go without recognition. No, this doesn't seem like your typical bandit raid. The fact that whoever - or whatever - had done this had left not a single living trace or shred of evidence in the town, struck that theory down even further.

So, had Esdese done it herself?

The possibility had definitely crossed his mind, to be sure. Her violence and cunning were renowned throughout the Empire and its surrounding lands; rumors spread about the cruelty of the Ice Queen, and none within the Empire's lands were quick to engage her in open combat. The odds of her absolutely mutilating her poor victim were statistically proven to be very high.

The thought that Esdese could have destroyed the village played through Run's mind, but something just didn't click for him, giving him yet another pause.

If his leader had done something so great, and so terrible, so as to have completely erased a village from the map - which, he knew, she could do almost as easily as breathe - then the small town had to have done something insurmountably brash or stupid to earn her complete and utter ire. Her violence would know no bounds, and she would mercilessly cut down all who anger her or stand in her way.

Yet the details and the aftermath of the attack failed to match up with his leader's known patterns of attack.

She would toy with her victims, like a great cat playing with its food before moving in for the kill. She wasn't one to burn or shatter buildings. She would freeze them out, making them cower and quake in fear as she approached with all the cunning and finesse of a lioness poised to strike, her gaze that of glacial ice as she peered into the souls of her victims before brutally cutting them down to size.

No, this was done with brutal swiftness, to be sure, but a heated one; brash, utter violence - a culling, swift and terrible as a storm of fire - snuffing out and extinguishing all life who dared stand in its wake. Run knew this event warranted more investigation. He had sent two more squads to search through the ruined town, hoping to find some sort of clue as to what had done such a terrible deed.

Regardless, all signs had begun to point east.

East, towards the mountains along the coast of their great country, and home of the legendary Mount Fake. Said to have been the sight of a fierce battle between two great warriors long ago, as they fought to the death over the love of a maiden most fair - though that legend was little more than a bedtime story for children at this point - the lone mountain peak stood out above all the rocky valleys, forests and canyons surrounding it, signifying its lordship over the nearby mountain range and the surrounding lands. Looming high into the sky, the peak was one of the highest throughout the whole kingdom, allowing one to view the surrounding landscape for miles upon miles, entirely unimpeded. Great valleys and forests stretched for miles, the length of the mountain range spanning as far as one could see up and down the countryside. Through the forests on the other side of the Mountain, one could just begin to make out the dwindling forest and the coastline, and beyond, the barest hint of a great and terrible ocean.

Many powerful creatures made all sorts of homes throughout the surrounding forests and canyons at the base of the great mountain; this corner of the world was dangerous, one where the weak or faint of heart dared not tread, and where the strong came to test their mettle against that of the Mother herself. These woodlands had stood for ages, the life within growing undisturbed - for the most part - by the outside world. It was the perfect place to hide - or to run.

A true show of force by the mighty Mother Gaia herself, Mount Fake stood tall, had stood tall since time immemorial, and would continue to stand tall long after he'd passed.

Yes, it would make perfect sense for Esdese-sama to pay it a visit.

After all, power attracts power, and isn't such a beautiful feat of nature one of the most powerful figures to exist?

Run believed so, sipping his tea and staring out of his window eastward, over the castle grounds and the city proper, watching the sun begin its slow ascent into the heavens to bathe the Blessed Land of the Empire in its glorious rays.

He sat upon his velvet chair facing the window, curtains fluttering in the small breeze wafting through the room as he sunk deeper and deeper into thought about the situation of their missing leader. Lost in his thoughts, his mind spun a thousand different scenarios as to how she had exited the Capital unseen. She had a thousand and one different ways to accomplish the task set before her, he knew, and she wouldn't stop until the mission in front of her lie complete. What was her mission, though? Why did his esteemed General up and vanish in the middle of the night, gone without a trace, with nothing but educated guesses to point them in the right direction?

The question seared into everyone's mind lately, still remained;

"Where have you gone, Esdese-sama?"

With that thought bouncing around in his head, Run turned to his left, picking up a small sheaf of papers from the table adjacent to his velvety perch. Leafing through the papers, he hummed to himself softly, taking another sip of his tea as he read the summons in his hands.

The Jaegers had been summoned to meet with the remaining generals of the empire and the Prime Minister himself, in order to discuss the next course of action in the wake of the disappearance of their General. Run knew that recovering her was of the utmost importance; however, he wasn't so ignorant as to think that their previous mission could continue to go on incomplete.

He was not so stupid as to think the Empire was satisfied with the progress their little group had made in wiping out the organization known as Night Raid; the same agency filled with killers and assassins that had been plaguing the Empire at the behest of the Resistance for months now, wreaking havoc throughout their Great City. As the Jaeger's job to eradicate them continued to go unfulfilled, the higher-ups began to grow impatient. They wanted results, Run knew, and he knew they weren't gaining any favor by spending their time searching for their errant General.

Something had to happen, and fast, Run knew. Esdese-sama was needed back in the capital, lest control of her organization be handed over to one of the other Generals that the Emperor held at his beck and call.

Run rather liked his current leader. He and the rest of the Jaegers would prefer to stay under her command, thank you very much.

With that thought fresh in his mind, he was broken from his musings by a knock at the door. Sighing, he stood, draining the last of his tea and straightening his coat before answering his door to the sight of two palace guard beckoning him to follow. He knew this meeting would be a long one, and he sighed internally, steeling himself for the ordeal.

As the door closed behind Run, his feet propelling him along behind the guards down the candle-lit hallways of the castle, he failed to see the bright flash of light, far and away on the horizon of the eastern sky, that brightened the world before disappearing in the wake of the rising sun.

XxXxX

A/N: Well, here we are. Thank you to everyone so, so much for sticking around during my hiatus/absence. It really means the world to me that all of my readers are such big fans and want to see this fic succeed. I'm happy to say that the writing bug has bitten me again, so I'm hoping to have several more chapters written and ready to go over the course of the following week.

So, moving forward, we saw a lot of introspection, a little action, and even a flashback to Tatsumi's period before reaching the Empire. I'm probably going to continue taking liberties to make these characters who I think they should be over the course of this story, but I'm doing my best to keep them true to form.

Next time, we'll pop in on Tatsumi's confrontation with Sakchai, as well as take a look at the goings-on of our favorite band of assassins, so see how they've been faring in the absence of Tatsumi.

Thank you all for sticking around. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, as I had tons of fun writing it, and I hope to have you all back next time for the following installment.

-DeadxHands