Shadowchasers- Color of Madness

Acknowledgements-

Cyber Commander/Brian Corvello/The Corvelloverlord- For creating the Shadowchasers fandom, as well as allowing this story into canon and acting as a creative consultant and overseer.

Digidramon- For getting me interested in this.

7th Librarian- Ditto.

And You, the Reader- Thank you.

Author's Notes- Yu-Gi-Oh!, Dungeons and Dragons, Urban Arcana, etc. etc. et. al. are not my intellectual property, nor do I claim they are. The following story is a work of fiction, though if you didn't figure that out by the time I started bringing up magical powers you should probably seek help from a licensed mental health professional. This story is going to update sporadically, and there may be long time gaps between chapters. In the interest of finishing it, it will likely be wrapped up in 5-7 long-ish chapters or 10-12 shorter ones, whichever I can tell the story in most effectively.

All characters in this fanfic aside from those appearing in 'Shadowchasers' stories by other authors or in official Yu-Gi-Oh! Canon are my own. While the events of this fanfic are considered canon to the lives of each member, once this fanfic is completed they are public domain for any approved author to use- feel free to ask me about my own thoughts on each.

Fake cards, should they appear, are likewise approved (use in Shadowchasers fiction subject to approval from Cyber Commander, etc.)

Prologue- Color Guard

A group of four people sat around a round, wooden table in a small briefing room of Shadowchasers HQ, Germany. None of them was happy about it.

Jalal Dragonborn took stock of the four one by one as he waited for his final team member.

Harley Rowan. Age, thirty-four. Eyes brown, hair dyed a technicolor shade of blue and grown out until it reached past his shoulders. Shadowchaser officially dispatched to cover all rural counties from Virginia down south through Georgia with a Shadow density of less than two percent. CQC specialist, proficient with firearms. Twelve citations for disobedience to superior officers in the field, two for breaking protocol, though one of the latter two had been overturned in an official ruling Jalal himself had signed off on. He had showed up for this briefing both without his sword, and carrying a non-standard weapon he had somehow smuggled into the country (which had immediately been confiscated). Normally, Jalal would never have assigned him to a team, but in this case he was an apt member.

Sylvia Andersen. Age, forty-one. Eye color variable, naturally green. Hair color variable, naturally a dirty brown. Facial features variable. A wildshaping mage with more elf and dryad in her blood than human. Shadows ran so far through her ancestry that some rather unkindly referred to her as a 'mutt'. If she was, she certainly possessed hybrid vigor. She had been assigned to this squad based on her outstanding performance as an undercover officer, easily capable of infiltrating and observing action in any autonomous community of Shadows- or humans for that matter. At the moment, she was clearly not in her natural shape- her red hair and slightly pointed ears, as well as her freckled skin, seemed more elfin or fae than human.

Nicholas Mumford. Age, thirty-two. Eye color blue. Hair color, black. A specialist in translating Infernal, as well as interpreting the demands of devilish treaties and providing legal advice and negotiation to those unfavorably trapped by them who sought asylum from the Shadowchasers. Also-

Jalal stifled a giggle as he continued to organize the information in his mental dossier.

-also openly conducting a campaign to re-examine the Great Treaty, and planning to succeed the current leader of the Shadowchasers either by directly impeaching him or by being named his legitimate successor. Neither were likely to occur in Nicholas's lifetime, but despite his ambitions- or perhaps because of them- he still possessed an exemplary record.

Gideon. Age, a very young fifty. Eye color, brimstone yellow. Hair color, scorched red. Distinguishing marks, two polished black horns about an inch long jutting from his forehead. A tiefling who had been recently promoted to the head of his squad. Despite his Infernal heritage, a devoutly faithful and chivalrous member of the Shadowchasers. Among his faults-

Jalal this time sighed before returning to his dossier.

Among his faults, once, early into his career, trying to persuade Jalal to officially become canonized as a saint. About as opposite Sylvia as one could get in terms of ability to adapt to situations and new societies. On the flip side, arguably the best swordsman Jalal had ever seen.

Ever.

No sooner had Jalal finished his mental compilation than Harley had raised his booted legs up onto the table and waved his hand. "Yo, chief. I thought you said we were starting this meeting at three-thirty? Where's that little blonde chick with the tiny-"

"Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not finish that sentence while I am sitting here," Nicholas interrupted, adjusting his square-rimmed glasses as he did so. "It's bad enough that I have to endure the smell of that swill you keep drinking. Asking me to endure your rather half-hearted attempts at humor is really rather too much."

Harley cracked a mile-long grin. "Hey, pretty boy, that 'swill' is home-made moonshine from the oni up in Wilderness. Only moonshine in the world that awakens the spirit and invigorates the mind. It's a replacement for sake since you can't make the damn stuff properly out in dry country like that, and it's part of their goddam fucking religion."

"I fail to see your point." Nicholas yawned. "Presuming, of course, you even had one to begin with."

Gideon stirred. "Nicholas-"

"Hey now, big guy, don't worry. I can take care of myself." Harley leaned back in his chair, shoving his boots further along the table- and consequently, further into Nicholas's face. "My point is, that swill is goddamn sacred, being allowed to drink it means I'm recognized as part of the tribe, and I don't want to hear another word about good and holy from someone getting it up the ass from a tiefling."

The remark was shocking enough that even Jalal was stunned into silence.

In the next instant, Nicholas was on his feet. The black trench-coat he wore was flung open, and he had produced a pair of shortswords from beneath its folds, their black hilts clearly decorated to make the weapons resemble crucifixes. "What did you say, you little-"

"Nicholas."

Before even Jalal could react, Gideon had stood up as well and placed a calming hand on Nicholas's shoulder. The tiefling's voice was rough and deep, but calm. Nicholas relaxed slightly, sheathing his twin blades and sitting down. "I apologize. That was a bit much," he muttered. Gideon smiled.

Harley burst into laughter. "Oh what the fuck ever, Nicky-boy. Even the high-and-mighty sword-of-the-fuckin'-Lord here knows that there's no point arguing where your trousers-"

"Mr. Rowan." Gideon, unlike most Shadowchasers, actually wore his sword at his side- his hand rested lightly on the hilt. "I can assure you that Nicholas and I do not share a bed. Your obsession with the possibility of such a relationship proves less about his character and more about your lack thereof. Should you continue to pursue such vulgar conversation, I will have no choice but to defend the honor of my friend in the only language you seem to respect."

Harley rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Watch out boys, we got ourselves a badass in here." He removed his boots from the desk, only to stand up and look Gideon in the eye. "You may have fancy moves with that sword, Giddy-one, but if you try to swing it in my direction you're not walking away. Nobody around here actually gives a fuck as to whether you and Nicky are sexing it up, so why don't you sit down and let him fight his own battles, hmm?"

"The same reason you cannot stem the tide of offensive bile that dribbles from your mouth every time you open it." Gideon smirked. "It is simply not in my nature."

Jalal had taken the opportunity to move closer to Sylvia, who had been silent up to this point. "Are you not going to act to stop your team mates?"

"Privately, chief?" she whispered back, offering him a bag of mixed nuts from the pocket of the bright green jacket she wore, "I'm actually kind of hoping these two just mix it up a little. They're boys. They won't play nice until they've decided who has the biggest dick, pardon the expression."

Jalal opened his mouth for a moment, then closed it again. "Fair point."

The sortie was interrupted by a knock at the door. Jalal stood. "Come in, Miss Roman."

As the woman entered, Jalal re-opened his mental dossier. Ellen Roman. Age twenty-five. Eyes, blue. Hair, blonde. Young, up-and-coming researcher in the fields of magical analysis and anti-Shadow technology, and-

He blinked as she came into the room. That was odd, he hadn't ever included "Gothic lolita fashion model" in the dossier before. Something was not right. "Miss Roman, that's an... unusual style of dress, for you."

Ellen Roman rolled her eyes, placing a clipboard on the center of the table. Her dress was beyond extravagant for the meeting, and this was taking into account the fact that Harley had arrived in torn jeans and a biker's vest and Gideon had decided to wear a formal uniform not issued to field officers since 1451- complete with cape and greaves. The dress was ornate, trimmed in black lace, and its lilac sleeves and rippling skirt contrasted sharply with the black silk torso. The dress itself apparently not being enough, Ellen had chosen to wear her blonde hair in twintails tied by black hair ribbons, and had entered carrying a purple stuffed unicorn under one arm.

Harley moved his eyes away from Gideon for a moment. "Pfft. Didn't know you still played with dolls, blondie."

"I don't normally when I'm on the job. You all called me off of my vacation for an emergency," Ellen replied nonchalantly as she took her seat. "Let me guess- Harley said something offensive, Nicholas almost committed murder, Gideon is standing up for his honor and- Sylvia, have you started a betting pool yet?"

"Five on Gideon," Sylvia replied without missing a beat.

"See that and raise you five on Harley, but only if it's not a straight sword match," Ellen replied, before turning her attention to Jalal. "Sir, may I proceed with the debriefing?"

"Please, go ahead." Jalal shook his head. "Gideon, Harley, Nicholas. I have the utmost faith in all of your abilities, which is why you have been assigned to this task. Please don't betray that trust. If you need to fight things out in advance, do so, but by the time you reach Pleasureland I expect you ready to work as a team. Understood?"

"Pfft. Yeah, sure," Harley replied, sinking back into his seat.

Gideon made no verbal reply- he simply bowed to Jalal and returned to his own, not diverting his gaze from Harley's.

Jalal stood. "Miss Roman, the floor is yours. I've already chartered transportation for this group to Pleasureland- you all leave for the boat at exactly 0730 tomorrow morning. Remember, this may turn out to be nothing, but we are counting on you." He rose and moved toward the door. "Oh, and Sylvia?"

Sylvia raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I match Miss Roman's bet, placing my money on Gideon." With that, Jalal exited the room.

"Fuck you too," Harley muttered under his breath.

Gideon gripped his sword handle again. "What was that?"

"I said you smell like-"

"Harley, I recognize that you're bored, but we have a serious mission to complete and I have a debriefing to conduct. You can play the macho game later," Ellen interrupted as she tapped the table. The wooden surface shifted, a panel sliding open to reveal an internal holograph project, which flipped to life and began displaying a three dimensional image of the globe. "Is everyone ready to listen?" There were murmurs of assent (and one grunt from Harley). She continued. "Okay. This is your earth." She snapped her fingers. Hundreds of small, red lights appeared across the globe's surface. "This is your Earth with a normal distribution of Shadow appearances. Each of these lights represents an individual Shadow's appearance. As you can see, quite a few of them, but this map was constructed from data collected over the past ten years. Now here," Ellen snapped again and the lights winked out and returned, their positions slightly different but undiminished in number, "is your Earth with all confirmed entry points of Shadow emigration to our plane of existence. The difference between this model and the last model? This one was constructed from reports we've received over the past ten weeks."

Harley whistled. "Impressive."

Nicholas leaned forward in his chair, pointing towards the globe. "Do the appearances show any distinct patterns in distribution, compared to normal emigrations?"

"As usual, the lawyer asks the million dollar question. The answer is, barely." Ellen touched the holographic globe with a finger and rotated it, allowing the others in the group to view it from all angles. "If you just look at the locations of each appearance together, they don't make much sense. But if you view them in the order they were reported?" She snapped her fingers once more. The lights went out, then began appearing, one by one. Slowly they spread, until the surface of the globe was populated once more. "The emigrations flare up in receding circles, moving from the poles up towards the equator- and they seem to be clustering now around one location in particular." She pointed to a small island, and made a pinching motion with her fingers. The virtual globe dissolved, replaced by a scale, holographic model of the island. "This little place is Pleasureland. An eccentric calling himself Geppetto bought up the place, and began to transition it into a personal resort island. His mansion is in the center, here." She tapped a particularly ornate building. "It's separated from the rest of the island by about five miles of jungle, with only one safe path- through a damn amusement park, of all things. The island itself is used not just as a personal retreat but as a vacation community. Geppetto rents the place out for anyone willing to pay. Any given time of year, you have a population of somewhere between two to three hundred vacationers. Other than that though, the big difference with this place is-"

"It has a disproportionately high Shadow population, doesn't it?" Sylvia interrupted. The others turned to her as she pointed to several spots on the map. "These buildings- the locations- they're designed to cater to Shadowkind tastes, not human ones. The low-ceiling bungalows are for shorter types like halflings, dwarfs, gnomes, what have you- even at this scale you can tell the ceilings are too low for an ordinary human to feel comfortable. The cottages there, close up with the jungle area- it's for sylvan Shadows, they don't like being too far from the trees and they don't need marked paths. Then you've got the wells everywhere, they have special significance for-"

"The amusement park has a dojo in it." This time the group turned to look at Harley, mostly with mild annoyance. "It's got reinforced walls- thicker than most of the other buildings. Sits right off to the side there. Yeah, that kind of construction? That's a yokai bar, in disguise. Geppetto's catering to some dangerous clients." He cracked his knuckles. "We haven't investigated this guy before... why now?"

"If I may continue," Ellen broke in, the sweetness of her voice failing to disguise her frustration. "The reason that, up until now, we haven't touched the place is that it's private property. Without a proper warrant and official sign-off, there's no reason to send a team in there. And up until now, no matter how many Shadows may come to stay on the island, there's been no reason to hand down a warrant. That is, until recently. One of our Research teams monitoring the island from the mainland reported an intense magical flux- the place reached levels that were near chill-grill for a few minutes and died back down. Right after that, the reports of the emigration flair-ups tapered off. Something is happening on this island." Ellen stood once again, stroking her stuffed unicorn's mane as she did so. "Your mission, should you all choose to accept it- not that you all actually have a choice, we've got orders- is to head down and investigate the source of the flare-up and report back to base. As of right now we are not authorized to engage in combat or make arrests without reporting back to base first. Our top priority is reconnaissance. Any questions?"

"What if we get attacked, sweet cheeks?" Harley asked. "Our big boss got a problem with defending ourselves?"

"If you ever call me that again I will personally remove every single one of your organs. I will keep you conscious and alive through the whole process. Then I'll step on them, sew them back in, and laugh." Ellen delivered her retort without a hint of malice in her voice, and made sure to offer her sweetest smile at the end. Nicholas scooted his chair back from the table, suddenly becoming very interested in his watch. "The answer to your question is that no authorization is required for self-defense, but you're expected to report hostile engagements at the first possible opportunity. Does anyone have any questions not related to their inability to function in the field if they aren't allowed to punch the first suspect they locate?"

Sylvia was the next one to raise a hand, politely using her other to hide the size of her smile. "Got any other relative intel about the island? Number of paid guards, what the guy's got in place of a police force, their equipment and training?"

Ellen nodded. "Ah yes, almost forgot to mention. Pleasureland has absolutely no formal security presence. The closest thing they have is a group of patrol boats who come in from the mainland every morning and monitor the island to make sure people aren't entering or leaving without payment. There has never been a recorded instance of law enforcement needing to intervene."

Gideon cleared his throat. "Do we have official word about our chain of command in the field?"

"Knew you or Nicholas would ask that one," Ellen replied in a disinterested tone as she removed a slip of paper she had hidden in the sleeve of her dress. "Let's see- Jalal's official orders are- ayup. I'm mission coordinator and I have free reign to conduct my research into events without any restrictions. Sylvia will be acting privately to support all of us since she needs to go native to effectively gather local reports. You three boys are acting as a group, Jalal recommends- huh. Recommends Nicholas be the leader of the sub-team, since you and Harley are unlikely to follow each other's orders and we need discipline in the field. And that's about it."

The three men turned to look at each other. Gideon spoke first. "Duel."

Sylvia grinned, pumping a fist into the air. "Called it!"

Nicholas simply groaned. "Gideon, must you? It's bad enough we're vacationing for a week with-"

"He impugned your honor, friend. That's reason enough to settle things." Drawing his blade, Gideon pointed the tip of the dwarven-forged sword at Harley. "I, Gideon, challenge you to fair and single combat, Harley Rowan, for the honor of my friend. Should I be victorious, you will apologize to him personally and forever hold your peace in his presence, saying only as much as necessary to pay your respects and coordinate this mission."

"Eh, whatever." Harley rolled his eyes. "Not my fault you can't take a little ribbing. Fine, challenge accepted, on two conditions. First, if I win, you and Nicky give me leave to do whatever the hell I want on this mission the moment things turn sour. One stray shot, one hair out of place, you leave the heavy lifting to me and you don't ask questions. Sound fair enough?"

"You mean you intend to disobey orders?" Gideon scowled. "I will not allow you to impugn the honor of the entire organization simply to-"

"Calm your tits, Giddy. I'm talking about if, not must. I'm not going to make you lie to the top brass or anything on my account. What I'm saying is if I can beat you, when the time comes to fight, you let me fight. Understand?"

Gideon's scowl receded, but he kept his sword trained on Harley. "And your second condition?"

Harley licked his lips in anticipation. "I pick the contest. I promise nothing where either of us can get any permanent scarring or injury, and nothing I have an obvious advantage in. Fair fight. Sound good to you?"

Gideon snorted. "One hour. All rules must be declared before we engage."

"Wouldn't dream of anything different. I think you'll actually like what I've got in mind, Giddy."

Sylvia rolled her eyes. "I suppose you all will want me to referee?"

Both Gideon and Harley nodded.

"Right then. I'll see about getting one of the extra duel rooms free for you two."

Harley stopped her as she began to stand up. "Oh, Sylvie? Make sure it's a big room."

Sylvia pursed her lips, then grinned. "Oh, this will be interesting."

Ellen stood up as Sylvia exited. "I'll be along to watch this one, but if you don't mind- I have to prepare a few extra things for our trip." She took her leave as well.

Harley stood up and cracked his knuckles. "Page me when Sylvie finds the location, okay lover-boys?"

Nicholas and Gideon were left alone in the room. Nicholas crossed over to his friend's side, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I shouldn't have let you do that."

"Probably not, but it would have been done anyway," Gideon replied as he returned his sword and sheath to his side. "I may be able to hide it more easily than you but I can't abide that man any more than you do, old friend. I am sorry he brought your chastity into-"

"That's not what upset me Gideon." Nicholas shook his head, a half-smile lighting up his face.

"It was not?" Gideon blinked in surprise. "So then, you almost attacked him because-"

"He implied you were cursed. Unholy in some way. Defiled." Nicholas clenched his fists, well-manicured nails almost digging into his palms. "Nobody has the right to say anything like that about you. Not after all you've accomplished."

Gideon laughed- a deep, bass laugh which filled the room. "Old friend, I appreciate your concern, but leave your defenses to the courtroom. Violence on my behalf is unnecessary."

"And it is on mine, is that it?" Nicholas countered. "Gideon, you can't keep playing white knight this way. I could have fought my own battles if I had needed to, you know that."

"Aye. But you shouldn't have to. Not against someone like him." Gideon shook his head. "What Sir Jalal ever saw in him I'll never know. It's only a matter of time before he's out of our hair- and with any luck, today, we won't have to worry about him again. I had best prepare, old friend. You'll be watching, I trust?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Nicholas responded, half-smiling. Gideon returned the smile, and turned, making for the door. "Oh, Gideon, one other thing?"

Gideon paused, turning back towards his friend. "Yes?"

Nicholas coughed. "Erm... I'm not sure how to say this but... in the future, don't bother making challenges on my behalf if someone insists we're- how did you put it?- sharing a bed. Nothing could be less offensive to me."

Gideon smiled. "I appreciate the sentiment." With that, he left.

Nicholas stood alone for a moment, sighing.

"Gideon... you really are dense sometimes."

TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

The duel room had cleared out.

Only five people stood within it now. Anyone else had been warned out of the room, and a sign reading "beware of the rabid Gigobyte" had been taped to the door. In the center of the room, a pair of duel disks sat, waiting to be used. Both were state of the art models, built to last, with self-updating card databases capable of rendering the image of any duel monsters card fresh off the line. Collectors would have paid through the nose to acquire either.

Neither Gideon nor Harley paid any particular attention to them. The two were squared off against each other, separated only be a few feet of space, each holding a wooden training sword.

Gideon was the first to speak. "I'm surprised at you. You must know that in a match such as this, you have no chance of victory."

Harley smirked. "That's my line. What's the matter Gideon, running out on me already?"

The tiefling snorted. "Hardly."

Ellen and Nicholas stood to the side, both barely believing what was taking place in front of them. Sylvia stood between the two combatants, one of her hands raised into the air, preparing to deliver the signal to begin the match.

"He picked a sword battle?" Nicholas asked, incredulously.

Ellen sighed. "I can't say I know what he's thinking either. Of all the contests, he picks the only one Gideon is guaranteed to win."

Anyone looking at the two could tell that despite Harley's expression of confidence, he wasn't prepared for this. His stance was awkward, and ill-suited to the fencing expertise the weapon he was holding required. Gideon, on the other hand, exhibited a form which was nothing less than perfect- no, more than perfect. Artistic.

Nicholas continued to watch the two. "I'm worried."

"For Harley? That's a shock. I thought you hated him," Ellen replied.

Nicholas shook his head. "No. He's a thousand years too early to beat Gideon in a fight like this- but Harley would never have picked this if he didn't think he could. And that's what worries me."

"Your friend catches on quick!" Harley laughed derisively, pointing his sword at Gideon. "How about it? Want to back out now?"

Gideon shifted his stance slightly, the better to launch his first strike. "Keep your sword held at the ready, Harley Rowan."

Sylvia cleared her throat and spoke up. "Er-herm! Well, if everyone's ready?" The combatants and onlookers quieted themselves for a moment, and she continued. "The rules are simple. This is an informal fencing match, with only two rules. First, only the head, chest, stomach, and back areas are legal scoring grounds. Second, the match ends with first blood, no matter how light the hit. Are both fighters ready?"

Gideon and Harley nodded.

Sylvia brought down her arm. "Begin!"

Harley lunged, his sword moving in a wild arc towards Gideon. The tiefling simply shifted his footing and brought up his own blade to block, turning the force of the strike away from himself and causing Harley to stumble forward, leaving his back exposed.

At least, that was the theory. In practice the moment Harley's sword met his own, Gideon was the one to stumble a few steps backward, catching himself just in time to skip backward and avoid a second, downward slice. Harley's face lit up. "What's the matter, tiefling?"

Nicholas frowned, examining Harley. "That counter should have been effective. Against any other opponent it would have been. But-"

"That's Harley for you." Eliza replied, keeping her own attention on the fight. She had at some point removed a small ear-mounted scanner, and was watching the battle through its green lens. "Gideon may be the Sword of the Lord, but Harley's got the strength of the devil himself."

"Trust me. Devils don't fight like that." Nicholas muttered, watching the two clash. What should have been a completely one-sided fight was starting to look far more even. Harley apparently only had one tactic- the wild, two-handed slash- but his attacks were so swift that it took everything Gideon had simply to move out of range, and the power behind them sent him off-balance every time he attempted a block. "How the hell is a human being that strong?"

Sylvia shook her head. "Hey, Nicholas, relax. I don't think you'll need to worry about Gideon that much longer."

Nicholas studied the two for another moment. Then he smirked. "Ah."

Gideon danced out of the way of yet another wild strike. The two had been fighting long enough now that both were breathing hard, and Harley's body was covered in sweat. The tiefling raised his sword, preparing for an attack. "We'll settle things here."

Harley grinned, raising his own sword to match. "I was wondering when you'd get tired of running away."

"To retreat is not to run away," Gideon replied, his voice completely calm. "It is merely preparation for a decisive attack."

In the next moment, he flew forward. His sudden thrust was met with Harley's wild swing, which knocked Gideon's blade out of its path- but only for a moment. The tiefling executed a quick turn on his heel, stepped forward, and lunged directly at his opponent's unprotected back, attacking at an angle at which Harley could not possibly block.

There was a loud, cracking noise as wood met flesh.

"See what I mean? Gideon was just saving his energy to-" Sylvia's voice trailed off as she raised her hand to stop the battle.

"You know," Harley taunted as the sound of wood splintering filled the room, "for someone bragging about how he was going to settle this, you're pretty shit at the whole finishing-blow thing, Gideon."

That attack had been impossible to block. Everyone in the room knew it. But it had been blocked.

Harley's sword lay on the floor, several feet away. The moment Gideon had launched his attack, he had dropped his blade and twisted his hands behind his body, somehow, impossibly, catching the strike. The cracking sound which had filled the room was the noise of a solid, wooden sword coming to pieces in Harley's grip.

"You would cheat to win a petty disagreement?" Gideon glared at Harley, keeping hold of the hilt of his sword despite Harley's death-grip on the blade.

Nicholas covered his eyes with his hand, shaking his head from side to side. "Of course. I should have listened more carefully to that set of rules."

"Your boyfriend's got it right, Gideon." Harley grabbed a spot higher up along the blade of Gideon's sword, turning to face the tiefling as he did so. "You let me pick the rules, and the rules said that scoring grounds were the head, torso, and back. I didn't say a damn thing about whether hands, arms, feet or legs counted. Didn't you stop to wonder what the reason for that was?" Gideon struggled, trying to pull his blade out of Harley's hands, but it was no use. "You just assumed 'it's a sword fight, he's going to play by the arbitrary little rules of a sword fight and seriously try to beat me with a weapon he knows I'm better at using'. What kind of an idiot do you think I am?"

Gideon continued to pull back against Harley's grip. "You're abusing a technicality to gain an advantage? Have you no shame? No sense of décor, or honor?"

"I leave bullshit like that on my mantlepiece at home, where it belongs," Harley smirked. "Honor's all fine and good if the other person gives a shit about it. When they don't, if you walk in trying to play the good and pure white knight, you run into someone who does- this."

Gideon had no time to react as Harley twisted his sword, pulling it from his grip, and lunged forward in the same motion, driving an elbow into Gideon's stomach. Winded, the tiefling stumbled back- just in time for Harley to reverse the now-broken sword he had snatched from him, and swing its blunt edge towards Gideon's chest with enough force to crack the tiefling's ribs.

An arc of light cut through the air, intercepting Harley's blade at the hilt and severing it before it could make contact. Nicholas stood between Gideon and Harley, his own sword unsheathed and at the ready. "You've made your point, Harley."

Harley glanced at what remained of the sword in his hand and shrugged, tossing the broken weapon over his shoulder. "Yeah, you're right. I did." He turned and walked toward the door.

Sylvia raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to wait for me to call a winner?"

"Nah. Far as I'm concerned, it's his win. Fat lot of good that does you though, eh, Gideon?" The tiefling struggled to breathe as Harley continued walking towards the door. "Just remember this. You don't have time to get antsy about the letter of the law, Giddy. This little operation may turn out to be a paid vacation with a bit of smoozing with the local Shadowkind, or it may go all to shit. And if it does, I'm going to fight for my life and the lives of my team and the people who can't fight, however the hell I have to do that. Whatever the costs. If you start giving me grief about breaking the rules when that happens-" he laughed mirthlessly. "Well, I'd just keep a hold of that broken sword. Call it a reminder."

With that he was through the door, and gone.

Nicholas was the first to speak. "Gideon, are you alright?"

Breathing heavily, the tiefling pulled himself to his feet. "He pulled the punch. I'll be fine," he grunted. "Just... fine."

"Brilliant. We've managed to get one of our own injured and sow tension in the ranks before we even make it out to the field." Eliza shook her head slowly. "This mission is off to an excellent start."

Nicholas frowned. "Something about this bothers me. Something he said."

Sylvia nodded. "Well, yeah, but that's all standard Harley. I know you and Gideon are big on by-the-book, Nick, but he's-"

"That's not it. Insubordination is to be expected from the Chaser voted 'most likely to be mistaken for a minotaur'," Nicholas replied. "Don't tell me you all didn't notice?"

"Oh, you caught that too?" A smile played around Eliza's lips. "You're sharper than you look."

"I'll ignore the backhanded nature of that compliment for the sake of avoiding further conflict," Nicholas replied, waving his hand. His sword melted into mist and vanished.

Gideon frowned, finally beginning to catch his breath. "Will one of you please explain... what's so fascinating about the drivel that beast poured out on us?"

"'If this goes south'," Nicholas replied, doing a fairly accurate impression of Harley's voice. "Doesn't it strike you as odd? Harley specifically asks about whether we're allowed to resort to violence in the case of emergency. Then he challenges you to a fight, and rather than taking the opportunity to show you up and beat you head-on- and you know he's always wanted to- he throws the match in order to turn it into an object lesson. He's acting extremely concerned about what sounds like a routine scouting mission. Why? Why is he so fixated on making his point now?"

Gideon pursed his lips. "I see... you suspect he's going rogue?"

"It's Harley. He went rogue a while ago and he just keeps reporting back to base for the hell of it," Eliza replied, shaking her head. "I'm less concerned that he'll go maverick in the field- really, with him that's almost expected behavior at this point. What's concerning is he's talking about that in regards to a mission that should just be a quick in and out. What the hell does he know that we don't? And why?"

"A potential traitor," Gideon muttered.

"He wouldn't." Sylvia shook her head. "I've seen him in the field. Harley's never once taken an action that recklessly endangered civilian lives. The worst you can accuse him of is brutality in the field and insubordination." She paused. "Okay, and being drunk on the job once. That was a special occasion though. The point is, he's loyal enough in his own way. If anything, he's probably protecting us by not sharing what he suspects."

"Or what he knows." Nicholas frowned, as a chill ran down his spine.

To Be Continued

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Shadowchasers Personnel Profile-

Harley Rowan and the Wilderness Bunch

Active Period: 15 years pre-Momentum- ?

Specialties- CQC, Weapons Acquisition, Proficient with Firearms, Use of Vehicles, Insider with Oni

History with the Force- Harley Rowan joined the Shadowchasers roughly fifteen years before an incident later referred to as "Zero Reverse" resulted in the destruction of a significant portion of Domino City. Native to the US, he was recruited off the streets when two Chasers found him protecting the patrons of a bar by barehand brawling with a minotaur.

Since then he has gathered a reputation for insubordination and utter contempt for the organization he is a part of. He was eventually assigned to 'Wilderness', a low-Shadow density territory requiring the services of only one patrolling Chaser, in order to keep him out of the way of team assignments.

Despite his inability to play nice with the other Chasers, Harley has proved himself again and again to be a competent defender of justice, if not a particularly heroic one. His excessive brutality in apprehending suspects has resulted in more than one complaint from his superiors, but because of his presence the Shadowchasers were able to not only gain friendly ties with the so-called "Wilderness Bunch", but also access to an entire school of martial arts previously untaught to humans.

Keywords- Strength of an Oni, Wilderness Bunch, Oni Martial Arts

The so-called "Wilderness Bunch" is a self-sufficient tribe of oni settled in the rural, eastern US- as far as possible from the main house. They are a splinter group, and not connected with the larger houses of yokai. They're considered a wild and uncontrollable bunch, having split off from the main group predominantly because of their group culture, which centers around drinking, fighting, and festivals. The Wilderness Bunch are unusual in that they have been known to accept non-oni into the tribe, provided one can out-drink and out-fight them, both feats Harley has managed. The so-called 'moonshine' they brew is actually a ceremonial beverage meant to stand in for more traditional rice wines, and causes feelings of euphoria and battle-lust in the drinker, awakening their 'warrior's soul'. It is an integral part of tribal rituals, and as such it is absolutely forbidden for those outside the tribe to drink it unless it is offered to them by a member. Doing so otherwise is a grave insult, and will result in a fight to the death.

Harley has spent a good portion of his adult life both before and after joining the Chasers with this tribe. He joined the tribe at a relatively young age, and since then he has frequently drunk, fought, and lived among them, to the point where his body has literally begun to take on more oni-like traits, becoming superhumanly strong and durable. An old legend says that a man who bathes in the blood of a thousand yokai becomes one himself. While this myth is unproven, Harley is probably an example of its origins.

The 'Way of Red' and the 'Way of Blue' are the two schools of martial arts taught by the Wilderness bunch. The Way of Red focuses on unarmed combat, while the Way of Blue focuses on the use of both formal and makeshift weapons. Harley is a master of the former style, and still learning the second. Oni martial arts are unusual in that they are meant to take advantage of Oni physical traits. In addition, their purpose is considered less to be a matter of self-defense, and more one of 'communication and destruction'- Oni exchange ideas by brawling in the Wilderness Bunch, and have a strict policy of making sure enemies 'never fight back'. The Way of Red in particular is unusual in that it is the only known martial art, human or Shadowkind, where the 'disarming' techniques are literally recommendations for the best way to remove an opponent's appendages with your bare hands.

Since Harley's membership, the Shadowchasers have begun working on adapting elements of the Way of Red and Way of Blue into their own martial arts curriculum.

Next Time-

Chapter One- Colors of Rage

The group lands on Pleasureland, and what they find is anything but what they expected. Or is it?

In the realms of madness, will anything go according to plan?

Shout-Out Drinking Game! Spot the shout-outs within the text before they're revealed in the next chapter, take a shot, and try to out-drink Harley!