Interlude

A hot, yellow sky baked the ancient ruins beyond the Valley of the Copses. It was a clear, brutal day, almost sizzling the russet ground beneath the crumbling structures. No wind touched the air, and no animal disturbed the silence.

Those jobs were undertaken by the two figures vigorously doing battle, their skidded landings causing dormant dust and hardened sand to rise. A nearly bare, lithe warrior fought with well-built shadow-made-flesh, clashing arms and flipping up to dance on unsteady entablatures.

Jack was making short work of Aku. His fighting skill greatly outstripped the demon's own. Aku was not used to the confinement of the human form, and never had to hone it and its movements. If this duel were to go as expected, Jack would defeat his enemy simply by doing what he did best: fighting.

But then came the cheating, as Jack had known it must. The superhuman feats of strength. The strange behavior of the pillars. The shapeshifting. It was natural to expect these when facing the master of darkness, even when the agreement had been to avoid such tricks. Thus, agreeing to this duel had been a risky business. The prospect, however, of striking a lucky blow that would complete a portion of his quest, one that would ensure safe passage to a time portal in the future, had been too tempting.

Even as Jack proclaimed that Aku's reign of terror was over, he knew it was not so. At least, not yet. But perhaps now was the time to act. He jogged over to an ankle-height opening in the rock―which he had covered with smaller rocks that had been removed, but he pretended not to notice that. So, a different dance would begin.

"All right Aku. If you cannot follow the rules, then neither will I," he said, holding aloft a scroll instead of a sword.

Aku stepped from behind a pillar and merely chuckled. Jack started at the scroll and unrolled it. Dear Jack, LOOK BEHIND YOU. Love, Aku. Jack had to admit, he did not expect something so banal. He had expected what was behind him, however. A skull-faced minion, holding the sword he had placed in the opening. The minion threw it to Aku.

"Say goodbye to your little toy, Jack!" Aku cried, before the meaningless stick crumbled into dust that was indistinguishable from their surroundings.

It was only the beginning. They both knew that. Still, Jack acted as though he was revealing the final flourish, pointing to an identical rock opening. This one was completely empty. A similarly identical minion sat above the opening, holding another fake sword, which it threw alike to Aku and they all watched disintegrate.

More minions lined the clearing, each with a fake sword Jack had planted. Now Aku was panicking, disoriented, and Jack knew it was genuine. The demon rushed to each sword, holding it aloft in turn, only to crush it with frustration.

As Aku did this, Jack decided to play his final card. With a confident and knowing smile, he strode to a soft stretch of sand where the real sword was buried.

In that place, he discovered a long, empty divot in the ground.

He stared at it dumbly. After a few moments, he raised his eyes to Aku and his minions, who were standing with the same sense of anticipation. This was not possible. Perhaps he was mistaken. Perhaps he'd hidden it elsewhere.

Sensing that the advantage had shifted, Aku renewed his search with, not less fervency, but more hunger. A gleam seemed to appear in his pupils. Sword after sword exploded pitifully in the air, with the sweat down Jack's cheeks and brow becoming more pronounced. He should do something, he thought dimly. He should try to recognize it, grab it first….

It was not to be. Aku finally held up a sword and clenched a fist, sending out not a puff of dust, but a horrible, ominous creaking. Aku wailed in triumph, sending the silent, red-haired monster that had held the sword scurrying away.

"THIS IS IT!" he screamed, demented in his joy. Cracks of pure, beautiful blue opened in the sheath. The light burned brightly in all directions other than Aku, upon whose face it flickered feebly and faded. "NO MORE PESKY SAMUARI TO BOTHER AKU!"

Then came the sound of metal grating and fragmenting, a burst of dazzling white―and, suddenly, silence. The scene came back into focus, and there was the diamond-patterned hilt, whose texture Jack knew better than the skin of his own palm, lying at Aku's feet. A hundred tiny pieces of shining steel littered the ground, still mockingly somewhat in the shape of the blade. Around those pieces were scattered the ashes of the scabbard.

Quicker than lightning, Aku morphed back into his normal, cloaked, tree-like shape, though still roughly Jack's size. He glided towards Jack, one hand extended in a black blade with the same length and curve of the late, legendary sword. Jack, paralyzed and in shock, did not even think of running or parrying. Perhaps part of him knew there was immensely little point in doing so anyway. So he found himself standing there, hands uselessly at his sides, with Aku's shadow-weapon inches from his neck.

The demon regarded him with motionless and expressionless eyes, a far cry from the mania that had filled them a moment ago. The pillars of fire, ever-present above them, crackled and writhed. Jack breathed carefully, wary of any motion that would put him in contact with that blade, let alone cut him on it.

"Hmmm….well, I could kill you," Aku growled, though he was more pensive than menacing. "It would be a matter of principle."

They stood that way for a while longer. Then, Aku laughed heartily and withdrew. His weapon morphed back into a long-taloned hand. "But I think it would just be so much more fun to watch you stumble around the rest of your miserable life." He burst into a bat, and all his minions vanished in puffs of smoke. "We will meet again, samurai!"

And he flew away. Jack watched him disappear into the yellow haze. Jack kept his eyes on that spot long after Aku had gone. He was still looking when a star appeared there, twinkling against inky blackness, and biting cold touched his bare skin and detached consciousness. At one point, he walked over to his gi and put it back on. He looked for his hat, but it seemed to have blown away.

He had learned once how to read directions by the stars; and the stars, unlike most other things in this wretched world, had not changed. All the same, he did not know where he was going when he finally left the ruins. The four corners of the world had been shaken, and any path was lost to him.

Jack sat at a riverbank on a day that was vibrantly, unapologetically autumn. He knew not how long had passed since the ruins. He no longer counted the moons, even idly. He was a little hot on a day that would otherwise have been quite comfortable, owing to his layers of extra protection. Layers of gray and black gusoku armor covered his old gi, which he could not bring himself to throw away despite its lack of use.

Water cascaded down the blade of a squat, straight, sword as he drew it from the river. It should be cool enough now to hold its new shape. He stood and stepped back, moving into a form. It was no good. Yes, the armor slowed him down, but he had practiced in it years ago with his proper sword, and felt fine.

He raised the blade and gazed along it, catching his reflection as he did so. His eyes were old. Older than they had looked in the metallic reflection of the original sword. Perhaps it was simply this blade's tendency to remain murky, its refusal to shine clear, but he did not think so.

Against the blue sky, above the edge of the sword, a thin pillar of black smoke rose. Jack narrowed his eyes. He would not be able to see smoke above these trees if the fire weren't immense. And no campfire could be that immense. An old instinct flared within him. He leapt upon his trusty motorcycle and revved through the forest, deftly weaving between trees young and old alike.

By the time he saw the walled village in the distance, on the crest of a rolling hill tufted with pines, the day had slipped into pink sunset. The smoke billowed from one of the high sentry windows. Distant screams permeated the air, and Jack ramped up his speed. Sweat beamed on his brow. His muscles coiled as he sped along.

He stopped at the base of a stairway on the west side of the village. Debris cluttered the path, but past the stairs' apex he could see citizens run to and fro. The cracks slithering along the charred walls flanking the staircase told of either great age or a terrible force. Jack deftly leapt off his vehicle and scaled the steps, acrid smells of burning flesh assaulting him all the way. Only a small row of stones was left comprising the archway at the top, and it crumbled just behind his head as he ran past.

People were strewn across the village grounds, which looked to be built more like a city now that he was inside it. Some moved, some did not. Those who did, screamed and ran from all manner of killer machines. Those who did not were plainly the source of the burning smell.

He had not even begun to formulate a plan of attack when it happened. The pillar of black that had come to define Jack's life shot into the air, rising far above the peak of the tallest building.

"Aku!" he shouted. Though to his dismay, the word did not come out with the strength and determination it had carried in the past. It might have broken at the end.

"Hello, Jack," Aku rasped with teeth bared. "I knew you were somewhere in the area. So I set up this little show."

"Why?"

Aku laughed carelessly. "Why is there ever a show? Only so someone can watch."

Jack gritted his teeth. A robot with drills for hands was chasing an entire family. Jack drew his sword and started to run toward them. He had not gone three steps when an ascending dark waterfall shot from the ground and stopped him. The substance was transparent, but black around the edges. When he slashed at it, the sword skidded off, failing to mar the false glass in the slightest. He made to step around it, and the wall only expanded, continuing to block his path.

"Maybe I wasn't clear," Aku said snidely. "You are to watch only."

The carnage was all around them, so Jack ran in every direction, and at every turn he was intercepted. Through the panes clear as water, he could see them pleading as they were slaughtered. Men and women. Young and old alike.

"Watch! WATCH, SAMURAI!"

He hardly willed himself to scream and slash endlessly at the unyielding forms of Aku. It seemed to happen of its own accord. All of this equipment and protection, and he was helpless to penetrate the preventative walls of black that cut him off from helping. He should never have come.

After what seemed an eternity, the screaming had ceased, and the robots had all spread about the countryside, doubtlessly searching for more villages and cities to target. Only then did all of Aku's constructs recede. It was just the two of them, standing silently, and the sea of bodies. Jack looked, unfocused away from Aku. No need to pay attention. It hardly mattered what the monster did to him next.

"I know where you are at all times, samurai," Aku said softly, with none of his signature slyness or humor. "I will not allow you to wander around aimlessly. I will ensure that death and destruction will follow you wherever you go."

The creaking, like a great tree uprooted from its long home in the soil, was immense, and despite himself, Jack turned. Aku had bent down to him and pointed a finger inches from his face. "But not for you. Never for you."

And the demon was gone, leaving Jack alone with his failure. More smoke billowed from windows. Birds called overhead, and Jack tried not to think about vultures. He could not bury all these people, so he shouldn't stay here.

Well, perhaps he could, he thought as he eventually made his way make to his motorcycle. He had nowhere to be. He could do all the work required to dig the graves and fill them. But Aku had not stopped, it seemed, at destroying Jack's most valuable weapon. He had also drained his willingness to help others.

If only he could return to the past. But simply traveling through a portal didn't seem enough anymore. That wouldn't sift away the weights in his shoulders. The images that clogged his soul.