Eirin did not say anything when you and Awyrgan arrived at her doctor’s office. She merely gestured for you two to follow...down a corridor that you realize is longer than the length of the entire complex.

Awyrgan said she recovered quickly after eating all of the munitions weapons left over, to your relief. You tell her of what you did in Reisen’s room. She nods, but you don’t feel that she truly understands.

The corridors begin warping, as if stretched by some eldritch force. False doors replace true ones.

Apparently Nashira’s fine. Awyrgan says. Your’s and Mokou’s purely physical mangling of that little girl just warranted some rejuvenation tank treatment. Kaguya and Tewi are currently talking to Castor, and he is apparently willing to trust them as part of your organization.

Deep, deep you go into the further reaches of Eientei, where the passages twist and turn in ways that do not follow physical constraints, with hallways looping back onto each other but never intersecting.

You pass by hydroponic facilities breeding species of queer looking flora, some of whom turn their flowers to stare at you as you walk near them.

Over a catwalk, you gaze upon a large room, filled to the brim with opaque canister pods, each the size of a human being. Looking up and down, you steady yourself on the handrails as you recognize with a mixture of wonder and horror at the size of the cavern, which seems to stretch on indefinitely in all directions. How many of these canisters are there? Thousands? Millions?

The hallway continues, endlessly. The wood starts breaking down, the paper windows distort, and then break apart entirely, leaving you holding your breath as the visage of a star-filled sky is what lies behind them...with the Earth below.

“We are above Heaven now.” Eirin announces as the walls disappear entirely, leaving you walking on just an open wooden floor. Awyrgan responds to this by letting out a little cheerful roar and picking you up, using the newfound freedom to fly in a place where the stars are just a little closer.

“This must be where the Imperishable Night incident ended...one route...I think.” You observe as you take in the visage of the Earth beneath, the island of Japan clearly defined against the ocean, a sight that you would have never been able to see otherwise. “Are we still within the Border?”

“We are, even I cannot breach it under the Savior’s current lock. But we are at the highest point possible, though this location does not exist in physicality...it’s too complicated for your education, really.” The path opens onto a dais, on which sits piles and piles of ashen debris among what looks to be an old-fashioned metalforge. Hundreds of swords, arrowheads and other weaponry sit twisted and broken within them, and upon viewing them you view an odd kinship with the ruined metal, sensing some sort of similar purpose.

And on the forge, still hot on the coals...not coals...those appear to be the smoldering entrails of some enormous creature, is a single straight sword. Not even a medieval model, this one resembles a bronze-age weapon, and is in fact made of the greenish metal upon closer inspection. Oddly, it also has two blades, separated down the middle as if somebody turned the typical groove into a gap. Eirin carefully removes it from the forge with a meter-long tongs and sets it down into a bucket of water.

“The answer I have found is this. A replica and amalgamation of every deicide weapon that is reasonably copied.” Eirin explains as she uses the tongs to gesture, “The sword itself is a copy of the Ame-No-Ohabari, the sword used by Izanagi to slay his son, Kagutsuchi. While the outside is a thin layer of bronze, the inside is steel, with carbon sourced solely from mistletoe, a dart of which ended the life of the Scandinavian Baldr. The fuel for the forge are the entrails of the monstrous Ophiotaurus, which are deicidal. Cloning ten anencephalic copies of the hybrid beast took an irritatingly large amount of resources.”

“So...” You ask as Awyrgan sniffs at the weapon, “We win?”

Eirin folds her arms and sighs, “There are several major issues. One is that I am still unclear as to the nature of these heroes save for their divine powers, so its effectiveness is still up for debate until field testing is performed. Two is that---Put that down, please, Awyrgan.” She backs off, her brows raised in concern as the dragon picks up the weapon and swings it around experimentally. “It is a highly cursed object, enough that even somebody as strong as me, one known varyingly by the names of Omoikane and Taishang Laojun, will be reduced to a crippled invalid if I hold it or become scratched by it, whereupon I will be forced to swallow a cyanide pill again. The weapon is also incredibly fragile, since mine simple-minded brother decided that his second sword should be ‘More Artistic’ when Orochi swallowed the first one. I still cannot believe he succeeded in decapitating something with it, even a god! Hence, somebody capable of wielding it is hard to find, but I suspect that one of you may be capable.”

“The anti-divine is of your domain, my friend.” Awyrgan say as she hands the sword over to you. You gingerly raise one finger up to the blade, and seeing that it somehow has dissipated all of the forge’s heat already, accept the handle from your dragon’s claws.

“Is...is the blade spot welded?” You incredulously remark at the cheap construction, as you check the weapon over.

“It is something I hammered together in the last couple hours. The hasty construction does help with the anti-divinity projection due to thematic contrast, as a more properly made sword would likely be considered heroic.” Eirin does not seem happy about this at all, “It will break, but judging by what princess-eater can do, you can just weld it back together and it will still retain its property...wait...” Her eyes narrow as she suddenly reaches out towards the weapon, “Are you feeling anything, Ming?”

“No, it’s just a crude bronze sword, that’s all. Even my gravity hammer had more of a magical tinge to it.”

“Tis that truthful? Even within mine wicked, villainous grasp, I can sense the curse flowing through this tool.”

“I got nuthin’. If you were expecting some sort of super anti-divine power-up coming from giving me this thing, I’m sorry. ” You sigh as you don’t get a response from the sword.

Eirin shakes her head, “Perhaps I expected too much, but no matter. I shall have Iwakasa field test this weapon tomorrow then. In the meantime...Awyrgan, eat it. This is a reproducible article, not a true legendary blade.”

“Tis a trivial, simple construct one indeed, why doth thee...hold...how doth thee know of mine ability?” The dragon’s eyes narrow.

“Your genetic makeup made it obvious when I looked you over. Unlike Ming who is genetically 100% pure human, you, my dear metal construct,” Eirin punctuates this line by jabbing at the dragon’s head, “Possesses the metallic DNA of several species of dragon inside of you. The most prominent of which is the famous Welsh Red Herald, but the Germanic Lindwurm also makes up a large portion.”

She’s primarily derived from the Welsh legend? That perhaps explains why she’s not quite as violent and bloodthirsty as you’d expect an actual dragon to be.

“However,” Eirin continues, tracing her finger along Awyrgan’s throat and abdomen, “You digestive system and your oddball inner furnace and a circulatory system more akin to a nano-foundry are of a non-European and non-draconic origin...a specimen that no one save for a Lunarian like myself should have access to, as it has been extinct for five thousand years. I speak of course, of the Mesopotamian primordial monstrosity: Tiamat. An entity that only melded to draconic DNA due to recent shifts in the world’s perception of the dead goddess.”

Awyrgan tilts her head, her face a mixture of confusion and glee “What tis the purpose of this information? Is mine acclaim to royalty affirmed with the blood of a god in mine veins?”

“No, Tiamat was never worshipped, and even if she was, her worshippers left no legacy. You are a monster, not a god. What it really means is that your creators saw fit to focus your core energies to be constructive rather than destructive. A Mother of Monsters, or to be less romantic, a logistical engine. Namely, this is why if you would receive a written profile in Akyuu’s writings, your ability will be listed as ‘Rapid Manufactory’.”

“Ah, disappointing.” Awyrgan sighs as she takes the sword and begins chomping into it, not even bothering to switch appearances, which is spoiled by the fact that she’s still talking clearly out of one side of her mouth. “If only mine title would have such proof, lest the ignorant doubt my nobility.”

“Hey,” You pat her on the back, “You’ve killed at least a couple who have legitimate claims and ate them, if their armor means anything. That means you are more of a noble than them now. Lady Awyri.”

That’s definitely not the case, but you’re pretty sure dragons don’t know or care about the intricacies of human aristocracy. Awyrgan in particular definitely does not care, and swells up with delight as she breathes out a chunk of molten metal before reshaping it with her bare claws and rapidly cooling it with a burst of cold air, reforming the eaten blade in a manner of seconds. “My thanks to thee, dear friend. As a proper lady of the realm...”

Huh, she really has only a faint idea of how chivalry worked.

“I granteth thee this sword, and a title of minor nobility...”

“I need to keep a copy.” Eirin interjects.

Awyrgan fabricates another one and holds it out for Eirin to carefully extract it with the tongs. “As I was...”

“Geez, don’t get all formal on me. I hate that. Besides, milady, for someone of shield status like me, wouldn’t armor be more appropriate?”

“What sort of feeble milquetoast of a mortal noble doth thou take me for?” She taps you on the shoulder twice with the blade, before twirling it and handing it to you handle first. “Tis only a manner of shedding a minor quantity of scales and fitting it to thy frame. When thou doffs thy skeleton, I shall grant thee what thou seeketh.”

You look past her and see Eirin yawning and uncorking a flask. “Thank you, dear friend. Hey, uh, Lady Yagokoro, art thou...dammit...is there something else you wanted to say?”

“I need to go and outfit everyone else except for Toyohime.” The doctor mutters as she rubs her eyes, “If I do everything correctly, which includes allowing the dragon to absorb a godslaying tool, it’s a bygone conclusion that we are going to win this silly Earthling war.”

“And how are you so sure?”

“Clairvoyance....some clairvoyance.” She chugs the potion, opens her coat and reveals a set of blue metal flasks under it. “Specifically, a derivative of my Hourai Elixir that exchanges its permanency for a complete purge of the impurity of death and the removal of oneself from the flow of time, allowing for brief, clear glimpses into the immediate future and some blurrier visions about further times due to quantum uncertainty. Also, not really possible to die, but in a more premonition based way than regeneration. Still, it looked like we won.”

“Wait...” You freeze as you process this information, “That’s cheating!”

“Yep. I call it the Ultramarine Orb Potion. In development of course. I was going to distribute it to the primary incident resolvers, as well as anyone else willing, in case things go even more south than they already have. Side effects, he, ha ha. WHAHAHA.” The sudden peal of laughter catches you off-guard, “Heh, side effects on Lunarians like me are fairly minimal due to our lack of impurity, but I wouldn’t even try a small sample on Udongein.”

She notices your curious gaze, “Even so, you wish to try it, do you not?”

“..So, what side effects?”

“Anything from minor toothaches, compulsive laughter and headaches to systematic organ failure and necrosis in the brain. At least, ” Eirin chuckles as she shakes the flask, “Those are the symptoms from my personal testing. Come to think of it...you did demonstrate substantial resistances to drugs in the past, so perhaps you would be luckier in this regard.”

Seeing the doctor temptingly hold out the cheat code in a bottle, you wonder, should you...

“My friend...”

“Hmm?”

“Mine constitution is of a superior, noble quality compared to thine fragile flesh. Mayhaps mine gullet shall be a more suitable vessel for this elixir?”

[ ] Drink the Prototype Ultramarine Orb Potion
[ ] Have Awyrgan try it first
[ ] Do not drink the Prototype Ultramarine Orb Potion

[x] Do not drink the Prototype Ultramarine Orb Potion

You turn down the proffered cheat code. The potential drawbacks outweigh the benefits, and you don’t have a Hourai Elixir to fall back on.

“Funny, I thought you of all people would jump on the opportunity.” Eirin says, a trace of disappointment lingering in her voice. “Well then. That concludes the purpose of this appointment.”

Awkward silence. You look around at the stars around you, the moon in the distance, and the blue planet beneath you while Eirin picks up a scrappy looking spearhead from the junk pile and begins carefully hammering away at it.

“So...uh, how do we get down? Do we walk down that hallway again?”

“Just jump. The Princess’s stretching of time and space does not hinder basic Euclidean geometry.”

“Right on cue, my friend!” Awyrgan excitedly pipes up, “I hath been holding a new enhancement for thy pitiful fleshy form! Tis the wings of that foul knight thee shorn off. I devoured the mechanisms and reproduced it for thine exoskeleton!”

“I said call me Ming, you...whoa...”

What Awyrgan is holding out in front of you is something that looks like H.R Giger’s wet dream. The bits of the knight’s noble wings, blue and gold, are choked and subsumed by tendrils and layers of gray steel into a twisted parody. A sort of cuirass, one that resembles Awyrgan’s own armored scales, lines the front.

She eagerly straps it onto you, tearing off the ruined remnants of your armor in the process. The inside, to your relief, is lined with a soft and pliable leather. Softer than any other sort of leather you had touched.

“This is awesome, Awyri! What is it made out of?”

“Why I am glad you asked, my vassal!” She proudly exclaims, her face gleaming in a smug satisfaction, “The outer plates are improved replica of mine scales, a matrix of newly imbibed moonsilver and iridium from the lunarian weaponry I consumed as compensation for mine troubles, offered by the head rabbit.”

You hear Eirin audibly groan and mutter “Tewi...”, though she does not protest further or turn aside her attention from her work.

“The middle is formed of a sandwich of hard steel, impregnated with bone fragments, designed to deny magic and provide structural support, backed with a soft foam-layer formed of tanned skin scraps, remnants fools who stood against us to better protect against blunt impacts.”

You cringe at the last part, and try to nudge the insulating layer away from you. It won’t, Awyrgan had made it quite thick, and it easily expands and contracts as you move around in it to fit you snuggly within the cuirass. It feels oddly like hands grabbing onto your skin.

You give up. At least it’s quite comfortable.

“Now, open thy wings.” She orders as she stretches out the mechanical skeleton of the flying device, “Thou no longer need mine wings to achieve simple flight.”

Nodding, you send the spirits into the wings. One on the left, one on the right, one to coordinate between them as a dumb messenger. With the parts stabilized on a solid frame this time, it becomes rather easy to extend your consciousness into the wings, using the suborned spirits as a makeshift magical conduit.

The wings flare to life, exuding a faint trail of the soft pink color in contrast to the golden shine of the knights. Allowing Awyrgan to take hold of your hand, you carefully lift off and float around a bit. They prove easy to handle as you spin and do a small somersault, much easier than holding them manually. Though you suspect that Meiling’s dormant possession is having an effect on your mastery of flight.

“Oh, Ming, could you go check on the defectors? I think the knight’s sister has awoken by now and everyone is occupied, as the princess and the assassin are preparing dinner in lieu of Udongein.” Eirin asks as you hover past the railing. “The recovery room is labeled on your Module.”

“Gotcha, boss. See ya later. Now, Awyri, together?”

“Of course!” She grins, and spreads her wings.

You somersault backwards, and face down, as if off a diving board, and plummet with your stolen wings. An air shield comes up in front, seemingly projected by the wings themselves as a necessary secondary function. You see the large dragon to your side tumble through the air, likely intentionally as she is happily exuding plasma around her, turning her descent into a fiery comet. Looking back, your wings trail the noxious pink for quite a ways, making you a similar companion.

The way down seems odd. Eientei’s space distortions probably narrow the vertical space through a corridor or something, because you see no structures above or alongside you, and below you appears to be a neverending forest that covers all of Japan. Is it a microcosm like Miko’s Senkei? Likely.

The travel path, regardless of how much you swivel and turn, never seems to change, as you are always just grazing Awyrgan’s fire trail.

It’s also shorter than you imagined. Eientei’s courtyard looms close quite quickly, and you panic and brake hard at the realization, the G-Force briefly blacking you out as you slow down.

When you come to again, you are lying face down in soft, mat-like vegetation. Eientei’s unique sort of outdoor flooring that resembles a mass of vines that just so happen to weave together into natural tatami. Looking up, you see nothing but a dark night sky. What a strange dimensional distortion.

Smelling something burning, you look to your side and see that Awyrgan incinerated the patch she landed on, while she herself is rolling around to put the fire out.

“I fear I hath committed an error.” She grumbles through dragon-sized teeth as she tries to get as much of the fire gone as possible. “Too much merriment.”

“You didn’t absorb a fire extinguisher beforehand?”

“Negatory. Tis an error in judgment.”

After she puts the fire out and shifts down sizewise into the less building-wrecking humanoid size, the two of you head for the recovery room. It isn’t as quiet as before, with many rabbits heading towards the dining hall. Most of them wisely avoid the barely human girl who watches them with a predator’s interest.

“Hold up.” You whisper and stop Awyrgan as you reach the door. “Lemme eavesdrop a bit before we do anything.”

“Do you not trust them, my friend?”

You throw her a strange look, “Of course not, when did I trust anybody?”

“Hmph. Tis unnecessary. We should simply interrogate the lot directly if needed.”

Sadly, your repertoire of lifespan and evil spirit fueled preset powers have no way of eavesdropping elegantly, as a few experiments with the conjoined spirits proves fruitless. Resigned, you hold your ear up to the door as usual.

“Nashira, how are you feeling? It’s me, Castor.” The paladin says, still discernible behind the relatively thin wood. The door here is less insulating than Reisen’s room’s.

“Bro-Brother?” Nashira’s voice comes out, shy and gentle. You kind of expected it from the little sister archetype, but on the other hand she fucked up Awyrgan nice and well. “I feel fine...Where are we?”

“We’ve been captured by the enemy. Shira, the Null Fiend defeated our team and dragged us in.”

“Oh...NO!” The gentle voice turns into more of a blubbering, “Deimos...Is Deimos okay? I hope I didn’t cause his...Wait, brother, did you say Null Fiend?”

“Yes?” Castor sounds confused, “The man with the warhammer, that was the Null Fiend. Were you unable to tell?”

“That was the Null Fiend? But he is...I believed he was at most merely a disciple or spawn of that monster! A duped one for sure, as he was a healer for that foul dragon, and surely something as foul as the Null Fiend cannot heal! Also, would he not have consumed us for our lifespan immediately?”

You notice that Awyrgan is leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed, wings folded, and eyes closed, probably to look cool and regal. Her tail, however, has extended towards the door, with some odd metal wires protruding into the door’s crevices, at the tip...is that an internal microphone? A laptop’s internal microphone.

You sigh as you remember one of your earliest encounters with her. It’s your laptop’s internal microphone, or at least a replica based off of such.

“Now Nashira, regardless of what he is, they have brought us in alive, but has taken our weapons and armor. We ought to dwell somewhat on a next course of action...”

“No, Cas, we cannot dwell. If the Null Fiend is near, even this early in the past, we must escape and report back.” You hear Castor trying to say something, but is shouted over, “We know that the Dragon is weak, and a decisive strike can at least take out that monstrosity. You are the faster one of us two, Cas, I shall use my remaining power to create a distraction, and...”
“Nashira...they could be listening to us...”

“Yes, but do they know when? I think not. If we act spontaneously, I could secure you passage out---”

“And leave you behind?”

“I shall incinerate myself if I need to, brother! I cannot allow them to continue with their corrupt campaign! Not after what they did to us...not after that I was trapped under that beam, while mom and dad screamed...and screamed...burnt alive...” Her impassioned voice breaks down into sobbing.

“What.” You cannot help but let out some shock. “The. Fuck.”

“..WHO’S THERE?”

Awyrgan’s eyes snap open, and four machine guns, the same model as the ones the Saviors wielded against you, spring out from her back, held aloft spindly arms of gunmetal. You react slower, just slow enough that when the door flies open, you eat a flying divine fist directly in the face.

Doesn’t hurt too much though, especially since your Hunter Module was down. Nashira yelps as she shakes her hand in pain, much to your amusement.

“The Null Fiend and the Dragon.” You grin. Awyrgan does not open her mouth, but leans forward and stares at the girl with a hungry gaze while retracting the weapons. She obviously does not see a threat for whatever reason.

She’s a good deal shorter than you, though not to the extent of Flandre or even Mystia. Albino characteristics just like Castor, who is standing behind her with a sheepish look. Somehow they achieved the white-hair and red eyes without losing skin tone, odd. Somehow managing to wear long hair in a military organization, you notice several chunks of her hair still missing, likely thanks to you and Mokou.

You note with some apprehension that she looks no older than 16.

“LIAR!” Another fist flies towards you, but you easily catch it, the divine energies dissipating on touch, “You are but a deluded pawn of that monstrosity!” She snarls, her red eyes focused in anger not on you, but at Awyrgan. “Where is he hiding! That fiend! Tell him that if he does not show up that I will blow myself and you, his accursed mount, to--OW!”

“Mount? MOUNT!” Awyrgan shouts back, anger visible on her human-ish face, as she retracts her tail from a stinging lash on Nashira’s side, “Who art thou daring to call one such as I, the most noble and terrible of monsters, a mere mount! Tis the height of folly and arrogance!”

Nashira holds her side, hurt, but her expression changes swiftly from anger to confusion as she quietly asks, “Foul Dragon...you can speak?”

“Tis a surprise for thee? You had taken me for a simple beast of burden?” Awyrgan huffs and stands back, putting a clawed hand over her collar in an unusually dainty gesture. “Thou art addressing a dragon, the highest beings in thy legends and tales.”

Nashira moves her head up and down at the dragon, her face growing visibly more confused by the second. From the elaborate armored dress, to the copied Ame-No-Ohabari that she is proudly wearing at her side, to the streaks of gold gilding her wings.

“You look like a knight. A high ranking one, perhaps even a Companion. Are you mocking us!?” Her voice raises to a shout again.

“I have no need of mimicking scum like thee, whom no more qualify for thy lofty monikers as the grime on my scales. Tell me, knave, what sort of sordid fool would antagonize one that had proven to be capable of massacring thy kindred, and may choose to do so even after thou expended enough effort to undo the past? Or, alternatively, would choose not to do so with sufficient tribute?”

“You know,” You interject, “How can you accuse us of things we have not done? More importantly, how do you know that your time travel have not already Butterfly Effect-ed your bloodline? Or how does anything that happen here affect your timeline if the multiverse theory holds?”

“Polaris had answered that issue through their research.” Castor explains as he slowly tries to physically get a grip on his sister, “The universe does not follow the multiverse theory, it’s a single river, one whose infinite possibilities collapse onto each other into one timeline that can only be significantly altered by large events in a roughly equivalent exchange. The butterfly that flutters its wings in the Arctic Federation will not cause anything but a single light breeze in the Caribbeans, but a billion could cause a small storm. It’s why we’re doing this at all.”

“Cast, why are you telling them this? The slave of the Null Fiend has no use for this information.”

“Nashi, if they know more of what we do and why, maybe we won’t have to fight.” He answers, strangely hopeful.



You wave your hands and roll your eyes, “I understand that. But Nashira, honestly I feel really attacked right now. As far as I know I serve nobody officially but Omoikane and the Tengu, and the latter...questionably. This Null Fiend must be a really sneaky guy if I’ve been his or her disciple the whole time without knowing.”

You say this sarcastically. But there is a nagging doubt in the back of your mind that the angry Savior could be right. Who was giving you the cards? You doubt it’s Conner, even if he killed and remade you back in school, he is far more dramatic and bombastic than that.

Even so, judging by how Castor described the Null Fiend and the Dragon, you are sure nobody else can be the Null Fiend. Who else did Awyrgan term a friend anyway? If anything, nobody else SHOULD be called the Null Fiend. Unless you died.

“Look, Nashira Pyrus. I’ll cut you a deal, you stay out of the conflict, and we won’t kill Deimos.” You see Castor frown and let out an irritated snort at that, “Got it? You surrender, and the scary Null Fiend and vicious Dragon will abstain from tearing your boyfriend limb to limb before enslaving his soul to my whim.”

“Deimos is far stronger than that!” Nashira protests, even as her brown skin visibly pales and tears well up in her eyes, “He...he wouldn’t lose to the likes of you!”

Something plops to the floor, and you jump back in disgust. A half-burnt human arm, still with scraps of armor attached to it.

Awyrgan coughs, wiping the steaming saliva from the regurgitation away from her mouth. “That Deimos, fought in an adequate manner, I suppose.” She kicks the arm over, revealing some sort of glowing barcode tattooed on the shoulder. “I refrained from digesting this piece as it seemed to contain information. Tis the arm of thy lover, yes?”

Castor makes another irritated snort, and backs away slightly from the severed body part.

Nashira kneels, eyes wide and hollow, “That’s...that’s his personal sigil. Villains...you are all...”

“Yep, villain, bad guy, dark lord. Worst of the bunch really. So, as I’ve said before, if you want your boyfriend alive.” You lean in towards the stunned girl’s ears and whisper, “Don’t. Fuck. With. Us. Understand? Just stay in Eientei and drink tea.”

You slap your hand down on her shoulder, as you see a faint, fading outline of a golden bow being formed in her hand. She lurches upright, and opens her mouth in a silent scream as you negate the divine energies with a Hew. “We only hunt heroes. If your family stays out of the conflict, we’ll guarantee their safety as well when the time comes. Though, judging by the way you mentioned Deimos more than them, you might have sidelined them into a Freudian motive, haven’t you?”

“That’s enough, Null Fiend.” Castor says as he pushes your arm off while pulling Nashira back, some genuine concern and anger in his voice. “Are you just here to bully Nashi, or do you have anything Doctor Yagokoro told you to do?”

“Uh, you guys need anything?” You jerk back from your villain impression, surprised at his reaction, “Eirin just wanted us to check up on you guys. You know, making sure everything’s going well in recovery. No hemorrhages, infections, or leaking information to the enemy.”

“Null Fiend, are you capable of saying anything without a backhanded remark?”

“...No. Yes. Maybe. Probably not.”

“Mmph. Mayhaps my friend is not suited for positive conversation. That is part of his eccentricities.” Awyrgan states matter-of-factly, “So tell me, O’ fervant knight of archery, what sort of beast appeal to you the most?”

Nashira blinks, once again confused, “A...a bear.”

“Mmhmm.” Awyrgan closes her eyes, and parts of her clothing break off into scales. Her fingertips exude tiny streams of plasma cutting, welding, and machining the metal into different parts, and then just as quickly she assembles it together. Before you know it, she’s holding up a small bronze statuette of Nashira’s favorite omnivore, one which is roaring and fidgeting.

Roaring and fidgeting as well as any contemporary windup toy, anyway, but that only took ten seconds.

“Consider this a gesture of goodwill and trust.” She says as she plops the toy into the girl’s hands.

“Thank...you? Foul...dragon...do you have a real name?”

“Tis Awyrgan, First born and queen of all western dragonkin.”

You watch her perform a small curtsy, even lifting the corners of her scale skirt. You wonder if Eirin had shadily drugged her somehow while she was unconscious. Tanks don’t do curtsies. DRAGONS don’t do curtsies.

Yet there it is.

“What.” Is all you can say as you leave the room, Castor palming you a small translucent cube while Nashira’s distracted with the toy bear.

“Honestly, my friend. Thy hollow nature is not conducive to your relations with normal lessers.” Awyrgan points out with no small amount of smug as she floats in front of you, “Thou truly cannot speak anything truly positive, can thee?”

You shake your head, “I can, but sarcasm is much easier.”

“Tis thy nature, hollow, silent, and unfeeling. The only ones who saw thy true self and were willing to remain close are those with damaged souls and warped hearts.”

“The insane? The mad?” Wait, you see the validity in that phrase as Awyrgan locks her hungry, burning eyes with yours, smiling. Kagerou and Konoroz were right to be suspicious and hostile. A broken mother of a nue. A deserter traumatized through horror. A mad rainbow serpent with a chip against the heavens. A mechanical horror with aspirations of dominion and nobility. A deranged protagonist with a sadistic streak a mile wide, literally…

“Hey Ming! Hey Awyrgan” Sanae cheerfully greets you from the other end of the hallway. “Lady Toyohime and Iwakasa have finished cooking dinner, and say, what did you get from them?”

“This. Castor held up his end of the deal for keeping his sister alive and safe.” You squeeze the cube and toss it up. A large holographic screen is projected in mid-air, and a copious volume of text. “Information on the capabilities of the Savior companions, and Rigel himself.”

Sanae scans through the data with you. She reacts with some relief on the capabilities of the common soldiery, and some grimness on the paladins, who have divine abilities equivalent to some of the stronger youkai. The Companions elicit a groan, as they are moreorless equivalent to her, with vast amounts of divine energies plus special abilities. Castor’s omnipotent weapon mastery and attraction is already powerful, while Nashira’s bullshit divine archery threatened to immediately turn Awyrgan into scrap metal last time.

She stops at the last entry. Rigel.

“You have got to be kidding me.” She exclaims, “NON-MAGICAL clairvoyant abilities, and the power to personally take control of land and subjects?”

“Castor says that we should see it in the form of writhing golden light that sanctifies the land and bolsters combatants. It”

Sanae taps her temple, “Grr...hmm...So when I cracked open one of those large statue-like robots they had parked near the Yakumo residence, and saw tentacles of light from inside of it, that was his ability? No wonder they defy physics even moreso than Hisoutensoku!”
“You mean a warbeast?” You ask, confused, “I never saw golden light coming out of them, just red pulsating masses of something organic. Similar to something that tried to eat Kaguya and succeeded in assimilating Mokou until we beat her, it seems like it could enthrall even somebody like a Hourai immortal so...oh...”

You and Sanae stare at each other, mutual realization and horror dawning on your faces.

Awyrgan, listening the whole time, takes a few glances at Rigel’s entry and says, “I see just red mass too. Mayhaps it be that only those of mortal or goodly mind see it as gold? Ah, now I recall a sight from four days ago, when I was still in mine incubator and had frightened thee, my friend when thou took a seat on my rear. Twas a red tendril spurring the dessicated corpse of an outsider to twitch. Finding it unnatural, I erased it with mine cannon, only to see the red tendril retreat back into the soul. I thought it some odd youkai at first, but now...”

Your mind figuratively retreats four threads all the way back to your first day, and you hear Sanae stifle a small scream as she realizes what Awyrgan’s statement implies.

Rigel’s ability is to take control of everything.

What a Lovecraftian ability. But the man was clearly on the side of humanity against the monsters, so what does that mean?

[ ] Head back to Youkai Mountain and inform them, if safely possible
- [ ] Others need to know; We need to go to __________ as well. (write-in, multiple)
[ ] Stay here, not worth the risk

[x] Head back to Youkai Mountain and inform them, if safely possible
- [X] Others need to know; We need to meet Toyohime and go to the Garden of the Sun as well

“It’s only been five days...what the fuck.” You wonder aloud.

“Days are longer in Gensokyo, you know. Mostly due to it hosting a shard of Heaven. An hour in here is like two out there. Lot more happens, and the pace of life is slower.” Sanae yawns as she stumbles into the sizeable Eientei kitchen. “Oi, Lady Toyohime, we have something for you!”

“I trust this is important? Miss Kochiya?” In a flash, Toyohime had stepped from her position in front of the hearth to you, fanning herself with her particle disintegrator of a fan. “Combat data, is that it?”

Sanae weakly smiles, a faintly triumphant glint in her eyes as she opens up the data, “Feast thy eyes upon the enemy’s ploys! ”
“Huh,” Toyohime furls her brow at the projected information, before giving a sort of disappointed moan, “Lady Yagakoro was correct again. My inferences about the current arch-enemy’s capabilities were slightly off. I had assumed it would be something related to dominion, but none so complete in scope.”

“So, in powerlevel terms, how screwed are we?”

“Worse than...Junko.”

You frown at the unfamiliar name, “Who’s Junko?”

“Some horrid fox-based monstrosity of a Divine Spirit that sieges the Lunar Capitol every decade.” Toyohime’s voice drops, and a tinge of fright comes in, “She rams her head against the Capitol gates, terrorizes the rabbits, and uses my sister and I as anger management punching bags. On the moon. It is something nobody on Earth could accomplish.”

“Gee! Something even somebody as strong as you is frightened of, must be final boss material.” You nervously chuckle at the statement from one who trounced Yukari without too much trouble. “But you’re saying that Rigel is even worse than her?”

“In insidiousness, yes. We do not have an accurate reading of his magical reserves, however, while we do know that Junko can leave substantial cracks on the very walls constructed by Lord Tsukuyomi and Lady Amaterasu. If Rigel has such power, on par with a primordial god, then coupled with the capability to claim absolute dominion over all things in a similar manner to the Abrahamic Consensus, then we may be facing a serious threat beyond anything we have faced in thousands of years.”

Toyohime folds her fan, and shakes her head, “I do not say that lightly. I will inform Lady Yagokoro and we shall prepare for the worst, as should all the mortals of Gensokyo. It is not a stretch to imagine that he might go for the Moon next, perhaps...” Audible gulping is heard as her face flusters, a concerning cornerstone on how much the information is causing the prideful Watatsuki to behave out of character, “He might even ally with Junko in the process...oh no.”

Sanae raises a finger, “Any strategies?”

“I would say that Eientei should continue with development, as my expertise, Kaguya’s talent, my knowledge, Lady Yagokoro’s intellect ought to invent something capable of negating the threat. What Lunarians really do when something like this approaches though...is flee to somewhere unreachable.”

She gazes up at the moon in the sky, its light free to pass through the overtaken Barrier unlike everything else.

“Warn everyone else in this land. We must stop Rigel here, or at least, exhaust every resource before he looks to the stars.”

==========

“Well that was depressing.”

“Chill out Ming.” Sanae tries to assure, a trembling tone in her voice. “We are protagonists. We---”

“You. You are a protagonist. I’m just a NPC.” You sigh, watching the stars in the night sky pass by for any potential hostiles.

“Alright Mr. Necromancy-imbued, Mind-altering, Hero-slaying, Dragon Tamer. Whatever you say.” Sanae says as she rolls her eyes.

“Seeing as thou art a friend of a friend, I would graciously suggest that thy retract the comment about taming. Nay such a base beast am I that has need of such crude techniques to function socially.” The dragon rumbles below the both of you, her voice vibrating through her scales.

While you can fly now. Awyrgan is still the fastest in your group. That convo atop her back lasted you the whole way to the former Garden of the Sun, which is about forty seconds.

“Also Sanae, you know that’s a death flag. You know what happens to outsider protagonists...wait, nevermind.” You backspace verbally as Sanae gives you a weird look, “The point is, protagonists or heroes, have lots of people standing next to them. Given my status, that area is also a blast radius that people get hurt by. Speaking of which...”

Awyrgan spirals down, cutting speed with her wings the whole way. A whole mess of dead vegetation and dust is blown up and off to the side by the resulting wind as she lands in the middle of what once was the Garden of the Sun.

“Lady Kazami?” Awyrgan bellows out.

The dirt in front of you stirs. Roots burst through the soil, and through the hole emerges a shabby, long-haired, pants-wearing figure. It takes you a few moments to register that person as Yuuka, garbed in her PC-98 era outfit. Likely due to the fact that her previous clothes were blown apart.

“Yes? What do you want?” Yuuka mumbles with her face off to the side, as if embarrassed or afraid. Is this the same person you fought with earlier today?

“Um,” Apparently Awyrgan’s taken aback as well, “We came into the possession of some secrets of our hated foes. As a major presence in the Grassroots Youkai Network, mayhaps thou has use of such intelligence?”

“...Sure.” The wilted youkai sighs, accepting the datacube and perusing the information as they come up in the list. “I shall have the flowers whisper this revelation to the four corners of Gensokyo...you know, assuming they would still listen.”

“I...I’m sorry.” You quickly apologize, still somewhat fearful of the flower youkai.

“Alas, the one called Ming,” She shakes her head, “It is not through choice that you are a terrible human. But it is my choice in being too weak. Please, just don’t be here while the land heals.”

“Alright, got it. What about the enemy though?”

“Go be terrible around them, please.”

========

“Well that was depressing.”

“Go eat a sock, Ming. I liked the Garden of the Sun.” Sanae groans, “Why didn’t you tell me that you nuked the place?”

“I didn’t! Oh hey.” You notice something odd as the Mountain looms closer. “Was there always a large barrier around it?”

Awyrgan pulls up as it becomes apparent that there is a dome of shimmering golden...tendrils...of light surrounding the Youkai Mountain. You pull out Initiative and take some pot shots at it, and then a single Hew-empowered shot. The normal rounds bounce off in sizzling trails of plasma, while the Hew shot tears a small hole that quickly reforms.

“Shit. This sort of divine energy is stronger than usual. Can you ask if this your patrons’ doing, Sanae?”

“What, no!” She replies indignantly. “Does this look like a barrier of wind or of earth? Something so gaudy can only be done by either the Hakurei or from what I can tell, the enemy! And I can’t sense them right now, and it’s probably a bad idea to attempt contact.”

“You fought against Reimu right? Any idea how to dispel this? I don’t want it collapsing in on us like a falling ceiling trap.”

“Ugh.” Sanae removes a charm from her belt satchel, writes a fortune on it with saliva, and throws it at the barrier. A splotch of blackness manifests on it, lingering but insignificant.

“Traditional curses work.” She looks on with disappointment. “But this thing is massive. I don’t have enough curses to get through even if I tell fortunes for the rest of the year!”

“Curses?” Awyrgan suddenly pipes up as she descends onto the ground, ejecting both of you off in the process. “Tis, ironically, good fortune that I, the noble dragon Awyrgan, hath what we need in this trying time!”

“You mean...oh...” You understand as you see her spit out a copy of the Ame-no-Ohabari, making Sanae yelp and jump back on instinct. “How many of those can you make?”

“I still hath the metal consumed from that black-white witch’s junkheap and borrowed from our nemesis. Now, stand back, for I shall perform a spellcard attack!”

“Wait do you even know what a spellcard is?” Sanae questions, before stepping back as Awyrgan arches up her back, and hot plasma begins running between her scales.

“Replica Curse:...” Awyrgan’s eyes cry tears of plasma as she braces her form against the ground. Then, her back suddenly bloats and expands out into a larger, heavier existence. Bulging and incongruent with the rest of her form, it looks somewhat like a series of vehicle-mounted missile pods.

“...Ryu-no-Ohabari!” You see a steady flow of bronze sword blades emerging from her scales, flung en masse into the air. Streaks of heated air light up the night sky like a meteor shower as the Ohabari replicas are sent crashing into the barrier as a barrage, blackening it with their concentrated curses as they shatter and explode. The barrier noticeably shrinks and become irregular, as if rusting and buckling under its own weight.

“Couldn’t you just throw them normally?” Sanae shouts with her hands over her ears, “You don’t need to launch them that hard!”

“Technically, this is danmaku, right?” You add.

“Tis more entertaining in this manner, I assure thee! Now, tis time for mine final blow!” With a joyful roar, the railgun retracts and Awyrgan charges forward, slamming into the barrier.

A sickening crunch is heard. Her neck kind of snaps and twists backwards at a 180 degree angle, and she flops onto the ground. The barrier remains unmoved.

“Easy girl. Overconfidence is a quick and obvious killer.” You weakly laugh as the dragon’s long neck snaps back to a regular position while the remaining sword blades disintegrate into their components, dragged back into the evershifting mess of metal that make up her internals.

“Tis thy turn, dear friend.” She grumbles.

“I’m kind of tired, Awyri, can you---OW” Awyrgan, impatient, had curled her tail around you and shoved you straight into the barrier, rubbing your face against the blackened surface. “Pwease stwap.” You muffle out.

Sanae shakes her head. She leaps over to the barrier, and incants, “By the authority of the Sky, and the strength of the Earth. Purify this blackened guardian. Lay it to rest.”

Streaks of divine energy rush up into the curses, grains of rice against the blackness. Sanae raises her gohei, hovering a bit above ground as a noticeable wind builds around her, “Miracle: ‘Divine Wind of the Kouen Era’ ”

A sudden violent gust bends tree tops and shifts stones, as the barrier crumbles into a flurry of leaves, carried off into the distance by the wind. Awyrgan snarls and furls her wings.

Your skin itches in dissonance. You don’t feel any wind save for a light breeze.

“Ha, cursed barriers may as well be made of paper. That barely took any effort. Come on guys. I want to go home...” Sanae yawns, and then immediately falls flat on her face.

You walk over and check with dismay. She’s fast asleep, quite comfortably judging by the look on her face as she snores away on the grass.

“Fack.” You hoist the shrine maiden onto your shoulders and climb back onto Awyrgan. “Alright, Awyri, let’s head for the Temple.”

“Affirmative, going in.”

Awyrgan takes off, and flies forwards, climbing altitude sharply. You pass the Kappa Village, and sail up the waterfall like a speedboat on a river. As you approach you constantly check the Hunter’s Module, and note with some relief that there are no hostile marks on the HUD. There are however, many, many marks in the Tengu Village plaza. Is there another meeting?

“Awyri, can you go small and carry Sanae? We should try to avoid raising a fuss there.”

A sort of gelatinous, liquid feeling shifts beneath you, before disappearing and allowing you to freefall for several meters before the artificial dragon wings kick in. Awyrgan pulls up alongside you, humanoid, with Sanae slung over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Joining the fun, art thee?”

“You know I can’t leave things well alone, mine friend.” You answer.

The dragon awkwardly smiles, and the two of you dive down into a darkened section of the village, and trek over to the plaza on foot.

As you get closer, you pick up sounds of loud fighting and spell casts coming from the plaza. You double check and oddly, there are no hostile marks. Are they danmaku sparring? In such a time?

“Love Sign: MASTER---SPARK!”

“Dragon Sign: Optical Dream!”

You get into the plaza just in time to see a massive energy beam narrowly miss an immature Eastern dragon and impacting a shield conjured of a flurry of bandages. Marisa Kirisame barely finishes firing before dodging sideways as Kasen Ibaraki launches the fabric out as a clawed hand, attempting to grasp the witch.

The black-white then dodges low, but the dragon flies after her with unerring grace, snapping at her all the way. Marisa nimbly dodges the attacks while skating along the ground on her broom, throwing up bolts of stars and bottles of nebulous dust at the offending creature and the not-a-oni.

Kasen snarls and recalls her dragon in a puff of smoke, before abruptly shifting to the left. Before Marisa can react, a massive eagle the size of a rhinoceros shoots out of the shadows at her, forcing a sharp turn left and up into the air...straight into an incoming grasping cursed arm. She does not reverse direction in time to avoid the hand wrapping around her and slamming her into the ground.

“Done.” Kasen coughs out, the bandages reshifting back into a normal arm.

“Oi Oi!” She clamors, “It’s not over yet!”

“We agreed. Best two out of three rounds. Isn’t that right? Mr. Ochiba?”

The outsider, who had been watching the fight, steps down from the stage, scratching his head. You notice that there are quite a few non-tengu in the crowd, including some familiar faces: Shou, Patchouli, Futo. Heck, seems like every group in Gensokyo sent somebody here!

Except, you note with a sudden chill down your spine, the Human Village.

“Miss Ibaraki...how long are you going to keep this up? Why not allow Lady Hakurei to speak for herself?”

“As long as it takes until Reimu is safe.” The hermit complains. “You think I would reveal the lynchpin of this world while those terrorists calling themselves ‘heroes’ are running free while the Sages are away?”

“He has a point, Kasen.” Marisa lifts her face off from the ground, bruised but not really harmed too much, “All we have to go on is that the Hakurei Shrine disappeared yesterday, and you claim to be the only one who knows what’s going on. No hard feelings, but you’re not exactly the most trustworthy of people.”

Something’s not right. You smell something odd in the air. Something hidden and dangerous.

Kasen sighs, “You bought into that, Marisa? Reimu’s life would be in danger if I revealed anything. Please, do not interfere.”

“Miss Ibaraki!” Ochiba firmly states, looking straight into Kasen’s eyes, “The more we delay a meeting, the more innocent lives will be lost! The enemy cannot be defeated conventionally, so until the Sages return, we need every bit of leverage we can get! Reimu...I need Reimu’s help if we are to survive.”

Awyrgan sets down Sanae onto a stone table, nudges close to you and whispers, “Tis irritating to hear the speech of that one with the two swords, and his blood smelt of nobility. Shall I make him into a burnt delicacy?”

“No, you can’t eat him yet.” You whisper back, “I got a bad feeling about the consequences.”

“I represent her. Any and all requests will be made through me.” Kasen responds, “Until they leave, or I die.”

“Miss Ibaraki, that is a rash thing to say! You’ve seen what they’ve done to the tengu, and until we can better prepare ourselves, there’s no telling what the Saviors can do!”

“Tis a lie, Ming.”

“I know.” You make one last scan with the Hunter’s Module. Nothing. “Give me some of your life, and let’s go. I think something more than Ochiba’s usual BS is afoot.”

Hewing off Awyri’s lifespan with one hand, you raise your other hand and cry out in a loud and sing-song tone, “I know at least something they can do! Be delicious!”

“Hmph, tis more appropriate for mine boast.”

“Oh shush.”

The crowd turns, Ochiba and Kasen stop talking and look over to you.
“They die easy. Roasted, dried, and salted. So many corpses in the field. So much expensive armor turned to scrap metal. So many knights...how did they taste, Awyri?”

“Sweeter than virgin maidens, but mildly less flavorful than plainer humanfolk.” She echoes your sing-song voice, while an Ohabari slowly grows out of her left hand. “Tis possible to dine on their flesh for months on end, with no fatigue in appetite.”

Ochiba visibly winces at your statements as he raises a katana at you, “You...who are you two?”

“Wow, you forgotten about me already? It’s been only one day! I am Wu Ming, professional asshole and nosy outsider. This is Awyrgan, professional eater and legally recognizable Touhou.” You curtly introduce the two of you into the gathering. Awyrgan probably would be answering but she appears more interested in stoically posing with a two-handed Ohabari planted into the ground, in the regal manner of a knight errant. “Or as some of you may like to term...the Null Fiend and the Dragon.”

The air freezes up. The crowd gathered noticeably backs up like the Red Sea, and Marisa, observant, ejects from the plaza and onto a nearby rooftop. In the din, you see Ochiba mouth, “You don’t look the same!”

Something whistles through the air before you notice, and Awyrgan dramatically moves forward to intercept. The Ohabari hits air, and you suddenly notice a sword in your throat.

“Called it.” You mutter, before going back to your mocking tone. “Oh no.” You groan, as the sword dissipates back into divine energy. “Mister Rigel, why are you attacking non-combatants? Awyri and I just trying to get back to my bedroom so we can sleep twice in the same place for once.”

Some more whistles, but this time Awyrgan simply ejects several copies of the blade into the air, deflecting the divine projectiles in airbursts of cursed miasma.

“Rigel, stop!” Ochiba shouts.

“Yeah, guess that wasn’t believable. But still, I so…yawn...so wish we could be civil about this, Mr. Rigel, but if you are going to keep doing this, then I’m afraid that I am going to tell my higher-ups to...degrade treatment of the prisoners.”

“Cease thy civility friend.” Awyrgan angrily breaks her silence. “False knights! Foul imitations of an illusionary chivalry. If thou art true of heart and unwavering faith, show thyself instead of flinging treacherous blades from the shadows!”

A resounding silence. Awyrgan huffs, and slams her claws down, breaking her humanoid form in the process and letting out a resounding roar through her horse-sized jaws. Damn, you observe in realization at her sheer size compared to the crowd, she increased size by an order of magnitude in just one Gensokyean day to something larger than an A-10 Warthog. “Art thee so cowardly, so faint of heart that thy face will not show?”

“Yeah, seriously, I haven’t even seen your face yet.” You lie along with your dragon, “Are you going to hide behind your Companions while they die and suffer for your cause? Are you going to let us burn them, eat them, and crucify them while you do nothing?”

It’s Kasen’s turn to speak up this time, a trembling tone in her voice as she gestures to the...damn, that area near Mayohiga is still smoldering? “Wu Ming...you did all of that?”

“Not all of it. You can thank Sanae for the other annihilated platoon.” You chuckle, gesturing to the sleeping shrine maiden on the table past the crowd. “But seriously. Rigel, you might want to come out. We have two captives in the Null Fiend’s base, you know, the same Null Fiend you mistook me for. He’s not going to be happy if you don’t. Nice try mercy killing them, though.”

Ochiba visibly pales, “He talked about those prisoners. What did you do to the Pyrus siblings? You...”

“What? The usual. Chains, the rack, you know, usual newcomer treatment.” You lie, “Maybe a little bit of vivisection. We might get started on interrogation soon though. So, Rigel...show thyself. We need to talk.”

A slight cough from the side, and you see a shabby looking fellow in a hooded cloak emerge from the crowd. In a single motion, he tears the cloth from its body in a blinding flash of light, making your Hunter Module dim everything else.

“You wished to see me, foul Fiend!?” The baritone voice from your eavesdropping earlier returns with a vengeance as he shouts at you, his face contorted with righteous fury. “Here I am!”

Here he is, the final boss.

Gold and platinum, that’s the impression you get from Rigel. A billowing, flowing cloak, thick, ornate (but with a mundane, relatable flair), and a worn out, middle aged face with braided red hair and a full beard that still oozes with the charm and looks of a younger person, one much more detailed than the holographic representation Castor showed you.

There’s something inherently comfortable about it, much like Big Brother’s visage in 1984 as you use an unflattering metaphor, that ironically makes you feel reassured as you swing around Initiative into a fighting stance. Despite the general bulkiness of the armor, he also feels oddly in place among the native denizens of Gensokyo that haven’t fled the area yet, likely due to the somewhat feminine sculpting.

“Finally, the person who’s been throwing swords at us.” You state confidentiality, even as his threat level fills up your HUD. “Awyrgan, deliver your terms, if you please.”

“Ah, catharsis. Listen, knave.” The dragon snarls, leaning her head close to Rigel, within bite range. “Leave. This. Land. Lest more of thy men are rendered into fodder, or worse.”

Ochiba’s shouting something in the background about no lethal violence at a peace talk or something, but nobody’s listening to him.

To your surprise, Rigel’s face suddenly shifts into a hearty smile, “Oh? Why don’t you tell the Violet Tyrant to leave our land then? Her pet demons in Clear Sky are pillaging countries and murdering innocent people in the Outside World as we speak!”

“INNOCENT? WHY I---” You lash out with your fishing line just in time to restrain Sanae from running at the enemy general. Damn, when did she wake up? “Let me go! Ming! This bastard needs to be exterminated!”

The smile disappears, “You corrupted an innocent bystander with your foul mist?”

You respond blankly, “What.”

“Sword of Truth!” More blinding light...light? A closer look reveals something...tendril-ish, exploding from his hand as a radiant blade comes into existence. “Fragarach! Reveal the deceit this monster wrought!”

Fragarach? Does this guy have Gate of Babylon or some shit?

“Fragarach? That Irish blade? Do you have like Gate of Babylon or some ridiculous power?!” Sanae shouts.

He holds it up, blade first, to Sanae, who coughs violently, as if something caught in her throat. “Tell me, what did the Null Fiend and the Dragon do to you?”

“Oh, them? I barely know Ming that well. He’s a terrible person, but competent at being a hero. Awyrgan gave me rides, and really should try on more maid dresses rather than that edgy metallic….”

“Tsk, the corruption runs too deep for even Fragarach to break through the lies. Very well!” He stabs the sword into the ground, leaving it standing hilt first, which is rather impressive as the plaza is paved, and conjures up what looks like a massive section of tree bark and a stylus, before making a massive show of writing. “By the authority of the Lux. By the hope of humanity. Reveal the true form of all those present!”

Glowing runes form beneath your feet as he writes, far faster than any spell you’ve seen a Gensokyean cast. The runes are also much more different than the rococo, cursive script used in Gensokyo’s magic, being far more angular and block-ish, like an alphabet. You swear you’ve seen them somewhere before, as the runes explode, engulfing everyone present with divine energy.

You feel it strip against you like a receding ocean wave, all too harsh and painful. You mutter Hew, and a cold sinking feeling sets in when you see that, much like your earliest use of the spell, nothing happens.

As the runes fade, you look around and, to your disappointment, don’t see significant differences in everyone. As stated by Keine’s book and Mishaguji, the forms taken by the denizens here are not illusions, but adaptations. Shou, watching from a balcony, had turned into her tiger form, not that she’s noticed, and Futo has become translucent, with a spinning dish visible inside of her. Okay, those are some pretty massive changes, but the tengu seemed to stay the same.

Oh, and atop Kasen’s head are a pair of massive horns, straight and pointy, where the “hair buns” used to be. You take the opportunity to point and laugh at her, until you notice that nobody else is looking at her.

Everyone’s looking at you, in fact.

You pull your arm back. It is shriveled, dead, the flesh within having long since mummified and bore through by decomposer organisms. And yet it moves and feels, even the areas that bare the signs of severe blunt injury and third-degree burns.

You lower Initiative and look at your own reflection, a gaunt, dry, eyeless ghoul stares back at you, with no nose and two large gaping holes where your eyes were. Despite the mummification, you still see maggots crawling through the gaps in the skin. Strangely large
maggots tinged with either pinkish or rainbow-colored auras.

Pulling your hand beneath Awyrgan’s cuirass, you feel your chest. It lies still even as you continue to breathe in and out. No lung movement, nor heartbeat. Not even when you reach into the autopsy cut that leads directly into your chest cavity.

============
Mayohiga

The deserted house briefly comes alive with the sound of an enchanted typewriter.

The sheet of paper is only imprinted with a single line of text before being ejected.

“Outsider #1126: Confirmed cessation of life. Method: Smoke inhalation. Context: Unknown.”

============

“Great job with the smoke and mirrors. Rigel.” You laugh as the you shows off your desiccated form to the public. “Are you saying that a fucking zombie killed your elite troops?”

While everyone is staring at you, he is staring at Sanae and ignoring you, who has not changed at all. “Sanae Kochiya, Goddess of the Wind...you really believe that I need to die?”

“Yes.” She replies coldly and firmly.

“Whoa, whoa whoa, hey.” Ochiba finally interjects after standing in shock since Rigel steps in, his normally confident, heroic tone somewhat wavering. “Don’t just jump to absolutes like that.”

“If there is any time for absolutes, you foolish outsider, now is the time.”

“Also, Rigel! Why do you feel the need to antagonize the Null Fiend so?”

Rigel ignores that question initially as he scribbles on the tree bark. You candidly answer for him, “Probably because the Fiend killed his friends or something in that future timeline. You know, small things like that.”

“Tsk. You really are the same no matter when you are, foul wretch. Hakurei Ochiba, you have mistaken my intentions. Everything living in this world is valuable, and should be treated with dignity and care. These two,” He gestures at you and Awyrgan and suddenly raises his voice, into a booming thunderous condemnation, “As you can see, are not living!”

You feel something press up against you, as Awyrgan manifests several more Ohabaris out of her flesh. Sanae leans in to your earhole, and whispers, her tone somewhat odd, “Zombie-Ming, I finally can feel my gods.”

“You mind calling Kanako over then?”

“No, Ming. I feel their presence IN him.” Sanae says as she points at the gesticulating Rigel. “I...I fear he ate them.”

“And I will never negotiate with them! By the mandate of the Lux. By the will of all that is good. Return these monsters to the grave where---!”

And at this moment, all three of the interloping outsiders scream out and act.

“SIR RIGEL! STOP THIS AT ONCE!”

“WAIT WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME EARLIER!”

“I WAS DAZED!”

Think fast.

[ ] Blast the writing bark out of his hands
[ ] “MEILING, HELP!”
[ ] “Styx...styx...where all rivers flow...”


====

A/N: really busy with school and work at once, sorry for slowness

Mumbai, India
Current time: 12:00AM

Under the dark awnings of an abandoned train station in the outskirts of the city, amidst the pitter-patter of heavy rain, two groups meet.

One is a short, gray-haired woman dressed in discreet black clothing, flanked by a dozen burly men in suits, as still as statues.

The other, a single blond woman in a fanciful white dress with a purple tabard, holding a parasol despite the weather, alongside a wheelchair-bound man with balding white hair.

“I might ask why you find the need to travel here personally.” The tall blonde asks as she examines the trunk the shorter one is towing. “These are dangerous times.”

The old woman chuckles, “Hardly dangerous. And it would not do for the prized swords of yore, of so much import that the public still believes of their fantastical nature despite hidden right under their feet in the Tower of London, to be delivered in such an impersonal manner.”

“As expected. But I dare say.” The blonde leans close and grins, revealing her rows of sharp teeth and prompting the guards to break out their pistols and take aim. “You are more concerned of how the recipient of the weapons is behaving, correct? Primrose?”

“Ah, would you not worry about how your scions are doing? Violet dear? You would say so too, correct, wizened engineer?” Primrose smiles, and looks at the man. The man stirs, and mutters something in German with an irritated tone.

“Please, do not trouble this old fellow. At least, try to help his mind stay intact until he can witness his creation’s true potential.” Violet says, annoyed, as she opens the trunk, revealing a rack of swords, lavishly bejeweled and carved, but all rusted and worn-looking.

“So. Hunks of old metal?” She sighs.

“One of these hunks of old metal, ohoho.” Primrose chuckles as she kneels down and fingers them. “Arondight...Courtain...Galatine...Caladbolg...Excalibur, ohoho,” She pauses as she lays a hand on the least rusty of them, “A weapon fit for an English king, and only wieldable by one.”

Violet sighs, “It wouldn’t be of help. Unless an old queen like you would wish to rush into combat.”

“No, not against our current foe, and not in the hands of our dearest scion, that monster of Wales, terror of Germania, and demon of the Levant. But this one.” She pulls out the most ornate, and yet the most impractical looking of the lot.”This is what will help.”

“And this is…?”

“The accursed ceremonial blade: Clarent.”

============

[X] “MEILING, HELP!”

“---they should have remained!”

A spiraling crack of rainbow light spreads from your body and intercepts the runes as they form. The golden runes push forward, only to appear to buckle under their own weight and collapse. Rigel frowns and puts away the tree bark.

“It appears I cannot justify this law in the face of even minor dissent. No matter. Even if I must turn my back to justice and take up arms as a vigilante.” He raises his head, a sword forming in his hand as he speaks. “Take the accursed dragon’s head. Reforged Gram!”

“Like hell you will!” As the rainbow crystals recede, you see Sanae leap forth and up above the paladin, her arms outstretched and projecting a series of divine light-sheathed water projectiles around her fists. “Sea of Opening: Moses’s Mirac--”

“Stay out of this, Sanae Kochiya! ” Rigel roars, “Sacred Onbashira of Yasaka!”

“Wha--” Sanae hesitates just a little too much, enough for the logs to thrust out of the ground and surround her like a massive tepee as she stumbles back earthward. Another shout from Rigel, and a series of iron rings materialize around the logs and shrink, locking the structure into a cage.

“Rigel!”

“You too, Hakurei Ochiba.” The outsider is stopped in his rush forward by a log sprouting out in front of him. You see that they are in fact growing all around the plaza, forming a towering fence that encloses just Rigel, Kasen, and your group. “I do not wish to engage any more innocents and redeemables in this fight. LIKE SO!” Abruptly. He swings his left arm out, and punches a cannon shell out of the air and into the sky where it detonates harmlessly. “Predictable.”

“Tsk. What a conceited individual.” Awyrgan complains, retracting the 155mm. “Must he really self-aggrandize to that extent?”

“You’re one to talk. By the way, cover me, you probably don’t want to be anywhere near a dragon-slaying blade.”

“You are going to charge forth posing as the main threat, hollow vessel, while the dragon rains fire from the back.” Rigel calls out, somewhat annoyed. “It’s a base tactic that I’ve seen a thousand times.”

“Hey, if it killed so many of your friends like you claim, then I’m not going to fix what isn’t broken. Hew Sign...hmm...” You wetten your burnt, shriveled lips as you think up a cool spell card name on the spot, ”Ah…’Dissection Barrier!’”

No pink light emerges from your body now. Glowing maggots and worms do, boring themselves out of your mummified skin and into the shield generator. A pink, writhing graviton barrier is projected, squirming and writhing as it grows large enough to cover both you and Awyrgan’s crouching form.

The true form of that iron card spell, eh? You wonder with perverted curiosity at what the cards themselves would have looked like without the hilariously powerful glamour that ‘professor’ put on you.

“Predictable”, Rigel scoffs as he tosses aside Gram, and pulls out a polearm instead,“Odin’s Unerring Spear: Gungnir!”

====

A couple of miles away, Remilia Scarlet staggers and grabs onto a table as the weapon she was leaning on vanishes.

====

You leap in front of Awyrgan, blocking the tossed spear with your shield. Even as its divine construction breaks apart in your infused graviton shield, you find yourself forced back, the draconic-infused exoskeleton unable to even hold ground against the raw power exerted against you, allowing it to push you back all the way to the edge of the plaza and slamming you against a wall.

No matter. You pull yourself back up and immediately charge back, firing your sidearm while continuously taunting him. “All you’ve got? Even the spear of a chief god not enough?”

“Hmph, the weapons of the wicked...” He deftly steps back to dodge a series of slashing strikes from a fuming dragon girl, dual-wielding the Ohabaris like they are claws...actually, they are growing out of her humanoid knuckles in a grotesque Wolverine-esque pattern. “Divine Shield: Aegis!”


========

A couple of miles away. Remilia Scarlet squints her eyes in confusion at the spear that reappeared in her hand.

========

Zeus’s shield blackens as the fragile bronze blades shatter themselves on its Olympian forged construction. Depleted of swords, Awyrgan roars, rears back into her monstrous form, and lets loose with a gout of plasma on Rigel, followed by a barrage of bullets from concealed guns under her scales. He raises the shield, projecting a glowing barrier that blocks the entire series of attacks as it slowly fades away into the aether.

“...Are not easily obtained, as they are destroyed long before they can damage civilization. Unlike you and your defiled tools. The likes of you, concentrated beings of evil, know not of love, or of hope. Fortunately...Juuchi Yosamu! Wretched Sword of Blood!”

A black-colored katana appears in his hand. Off in the sidelines, you notice that Ochiba is checking an empty scabbard. Stepping forth in a flash, he makes a diagonal cut at you, which you duck away from.

A spray of foul-smelling, lukewarm blood splashes on your face. You look down and see that your throat has been cut, despite the blade missing you by over a meter. Rainbow colored rocks scab over the “mortal” wound almost immediately (can you even ‘die’ normally at this point from human-tier wounds?), sealing it, but giving a peculiar numbness.

“Using cursed weapons against my spawn. Clever.” Meiling taunts through your mouth, “Not clever enough though.”

You feel your flesh and bones being stretched to their limit as the rainbow strings puppeting your body rears you up into a fighting stance. “Discord Sign: ‘Rainbow Schism’ ”

Slamming your foot into the ground, shattering your bones before putting them back together with crystalline fractures. A massive wave of sharp rainbow crystals spreads forth, forcing Awyrgan to leap back and Rigel to...ignore it completely. The crystals break off his armor like nothing.

You now notice something that, judging by their fearful expressions, Kasen and the others have already figured out. Rigel hasn’t taken any damage during this fight, not even minor scratches or dents on his shining armor. Even dragonfire and anti-divine rounds have failed to trouble this hero.

“An evil spirit possessing a corpse...familiar.” Rigel grunts as a hammer slowly materializes into his right hand, a similar one to the ones Castor threw at you. “And a minor god of calamity, eh? Appropriate. Let’s see if you can face this one! Purge the evil spirits with thy lightning! Mjolnir!”

“Castor Pyrus is fond of that weapon, wasn’t he?” You loudly ask as Awyrgan slithers in front of you, deflecting the thrown weapon with yet another cursed blade.

“Aye!” Rigel heartedly replies, some of his earlier mirth returning as the battle drags on. “Now if you would just let the Pyruses go...” The returning hammer catches Awyrgan off guard, knocking her on the head and flooring the dragon with the impact. Before you can react, a frightening crackling sound booms from heaven, and a bolt of lightning strikes her as she tries to push herself up. From a cloudless night sky. Somehow.

Hovering a safe distance away from the fight, a particular celestial oarfish reddens with jealousy as she feels her hair and fins stand on end at the energy dispensed.

“Awyri!” You scramble over to her head, “Are you okay?”

“Tis...nothing...” She grits out. “What...what sort of devilry art thou employing to summon so much weaponry of yore, red-haired tyrant?”

“The Lux has seen to grant me the power of Dominion, foul dragon. Which means.” He declares to the observing Gensokyeans as he cycles through multiple weapons in his hands, “I can borrow anything of mankind’s virtues as needed to deal with the threat at hand. Weapons, magic, even lesser gods” He smiles apologetically at a seething Sanae, “...must answer my call.”

“Aha!” You see Marisa slide down the curved roof to yell, a somewhat more smug than usual expression on her face, “Sanae, Ming, you dumb tank, I got him.”

“Hmm?” Sanae stops pounding on the barrier, “What do you mean, Marisa?”

“Kourin collects lots of rare items and tools that float in, an’ he collects lore on everything he doesn’t. Norse items are hard to find all the way here in Japan, but he told me about the famous ones before and how to spot them. Mjolnir, the one Mr. Rigel just used, is a blessed short-handled hammer that always returns to its user. Kinda like your gohei, Sanae.”

“Oh! You are a knowledgeable one, Miss Kirisame!” Rigel laughs, “Indeed, it is one of my most favorite tools, as the wise Lux saw fit to grant me dominion over.”

“You’re lying.” Marisa says, the smug grin growing wider, “If the Lux blessed you with dominion over the world, that tool is not something that was part of the gift. For you forgot, perhaps from overuse, that Mjolnir does NOT have the power to summon lightning.”

“But it does?” You ask, “I mean, even modern depictions...”

“No, Ming, Marisa’s right.” Sanae interrupts, cold realization dawning on her face, “The comic book version of Mjolnir is not the original. It never had any power but sure-hit and returning, along with its usual divine abilities to banish evil spirits.”

Rigel shakes his head and crosses his arms as Sanae turns to him, “Red hair, full beard, angular runes...you’re not just some randomly chosen human champion, Rigel, or should I say...Thor!”

In front of your eyes, the golden armor on “Rigel” sloughs away, no more than a gilded facade. Thick animal furs and bits of chainmail take its place, and not nearly to the extent that the fake armor implied. Most of the previous volume is instead filled up with muscle mass more appropriate for a Renaissance statue than a regular man.

Muscle mass that cursed bullets and blades are bouncing off of, not to mention high calibur magic.

Also he’s wearing a black t-shirt underneath with something you can’t read. Judging by the lettering and design though, it looks like Swedish, and probably metal band merch. Kind of gives his getup a more modern flair.

“Tsk,” Thor chuckles as he removes the knight-esque helmet and shakes his long, braided hair loose “it was always Father that was more skilled at disguising. Perhaps a bridal veil would have served my purpose better.”

“Shouldn’t Gotterdammerung have killed you by now?” Meiling asks through your mouth as you watch him appear to grow another two feet in stature. “I’m not seeing a lot of you Norse folk around since the Christians got to you.”

“Why are you under the impression that Ragnarok had finished, O’ lesser kin of Jormungandr?” He questions as he drops the hammer onto the ground, causing you to wince as you see the ground crater. “Aye, the Roman wolf in sheep’s clothing have burnt our lands and invaded our homes in the name of their Christ. But even it, at least, loved humanity.”

“You know. I don’t get your point. What exactly is Clear Sky doing that makes you so angry about it, Thor?” You rub your milky eyes as you ask, exhaustion taking its toll. “If anything, everything’s going along pretty well here, and from what I can tell they’re making strides to even eliminate the ethical dilemma of human flesh. People are dying to live here, you doddering god. Can you look at the world and say that what Gensokyo stands for is worse?”

“Yes. It is worse.” He replies without a bit of hesitation, a noticeably thick Nordic accent creeping into his previously immaculate Japanese, “Regardless of how gray the future may be. Regardless of the flaws, the wars, the cruelty that humans may exhibit...it’s all preferable to a world where they are extinct.”

A deafening wave of silence falls upon the plaza at his proclamation as all those present, including you, are taken aback. Extinction of humanity?

“And I am supposed to believe that our society, which depends on humans for faith and fear, is supposed to advocate for their extinction?” Aya pipes up from her aerial vantage point, having been one of the few tengu brave or foolish enough to stick around after Thor started throwing lethal magic around.

“You fools. Don’t you see?” Thor shouts, clouds gathering in the sky as his volume rises, “What do you think this garden is, but a testbed for a world without humanity? Look at the so-called ‘Human’ Village, do they actually resemble any people you see outside your garden, you accursed winged fiend?”

“Weird colored hair. Sharper teeth. Enhanced speed and magical potential. Oh my god, Thor.” You clasp a hand to your mouth in mocking terror, “They’re turning into anime characters! Clearly a fate worse than death.”

He ignores your comment and continues talking to Aya, “There are no humans left in this garden. No human will allow others of their kind to be devoured by monsters with such passivity. No human will stand idle as giants and monsters pervert the world to their design. It is dead within these walls, and the Violet Tyrant, your...Yukari, seeks to render the entire planet to her will in this way, a savage, monstrous place where the flame of humanity, of community, of fellowship...are snuffed out.”

“So, literally no different than the current world by your words? OH SHI--” You are interrupted by Thor’s hammer closing in on your face in a swing, crackling with lightning and backed up by mountain shattering strength. You just barely manage to dodge and drift off the shockwave and are only thrown back all the way across the plaza.

“Disgusting fiend.” He snarls in sudden anger and, to your horror, grabs the half-conscious Awyrgan by the neck with one hand, and with physics-defying strength (and weight distribution) he swings her around once and hurls the thirty metric ton dragon at you. Rainbow strings tug on your muscles, threatening to tear them apart, as you strain the exoskeleton in the effort to clear the distance. Ripped up stone tiles and broken tables ricochet off of her path as Awyrgan painfully slams into the ground, half-sunken. “If you are to speak, make a valid point, not another one of your inane ramblings.”

“How am I wrong?” You complain, wiping stale blood from your face as you run to heal your friend, the result of a stray fragment of rock hitting you in an exposed area, “Am I supposed to believe that modern humanity--a heady stew of pointless violence, meaningless ideology, and unsustainable pollution, is a culture worth conserving?”

“You cannot name one thing in humanity you think is worth keeping?”

“Look Thor. If there is anything good in humanity, youkai...or whatever you call the non-human folk...they have it too. Because let’s be fucking honest here, youkai are the result of human imagination, so they can’t stray too far off from the base material. So what if we all become hybrids or whatnot? There’s nothing lost.”

“Hmph, you sound like the Violet Tyrant herself, who stated that...”

========

“...Humanity has remained in a degenerate state for millenia. Which is why I must act.” The tall blonde states in a rather matter-of-fact way.

“Now that’s a harsh statement to make, dear.” Primrose chuckles as the train from nowhere pulls up in the station. “Surely our progress from dirt to concrete has some meaning? Yukari Yakumo?”

“It would, your majesty, if they truly improved themselves beyond their tools. Dozens of millenia ago, humans beat each other to death with rocks over food and mates. Now, they do the same with guns.” Yukari sullenly states as the train stops completely and opens its doors. She enters first, with the old woman and her silent entourage following behind. “In the English language, why is it that the word ‘utopia’ carries the double-meaning of ‘ideal’ and ‘impossible’? Why are only negative facts referred to as ‘facts of life’? Despite living in a world with infinite possibilities, why do human will always choose the nastiest, most brutish and shortest way to solve problems?”

“Because that is the way the world runs...without your witchery, of course.” Primrose says,, finding a comfortable seat in a booth. “The question you are implying, is why humans cannot overcome that?”

“The answer is that humans dare not think of a better state. The pragmatic always triumphs over the naive, and the scheme over the dream. ”

“And the alternative you are offering to solve this obstacle?”

“Restructure it all, destroy the idols, the poisonous ideals and institutions that plagued humanity for its entire history. Allow magic, mystery, monsters to roam wild once more, without the ignorance that coated human eyes during that time. Allow nature to share the burden of civilization and industry, so life can prosper without want. For satisfaction to replace ambition, faith, envy...”

“All things that drove humanity’s growth.”

“And all things that leads to its suffering.” Yukari smiles, “Lives will only improve, the only thing that truly changes, is who’s calling the shots, and for 99% of people...is it really any different?”

========

“...and thus a complacent humanity will be cast down into the shadows. Sidelined, irrelevant until they are bred into an amorphous mass with the monsters of the world. The entity known as humanity will disappear with nary a whimper. Forever.”

“Once again, ‘Wow, how terrible!” You snark as you surreptitiously heal Awyrgan with your non-gesticulating hand, ”A species of hairless apes got improved to be slightly less shitty!’ Is there any loss not predated on sentimental bullshit?”

“You all hear that? The Null Fiend states that there is no value to human essence. That it’s just a weakness to be thrown away. That the struggles, accomplishments, and culture of mankind is just trash...”

“It is.”

You feel a powerful hand clasp around your mouth, “Ming. Shut up.” It’s Kasen who speaks up this time, in a cold whisper, “Stop making this situation worse than it already is.”

“Ha...Ha ha ha, Oh Miss Ibaraki, you have no idea. So...Mr. Hakurei, are you still convinced that you are on the right side?”

The outsider unsheathes his (reobtained) swords, “I am responsible for the safety of Gensokyo. As long as I’m alive, I can’t go against that law. However,” He adds as he looks straight at you, “I kind of see why Reimu would not extend this protection to outsiders.”

Thor grimaces, “You mean...”

“If these demons die, would you leave? Yukari is not inside Gensokyo. If you defeat her, then mankind will live on, right?”

“You misunderstand the Violet Tyrant. She is not a human, or even a monster. She is a wicked, unrelenting force of corruption that infests the world not just through magic, but through the veins of society! Even if she is somehow killed, the monster will revive, fulfilling her goals through her organizations and intrigues, of which the very heart of it is Gensokyo....”

======

“...And you are not worried about yourself? These seem like awfully determined enemies, what if I was a Manchurian candidate, hmm?”

A dismissive harumph, “You underestimate my abilities, your majesty. I am not so easily ruined if my body is destroyed. Frankly, no youkai is. You will find that my ideas, my essence, are a bit more stubborn than most.”

“Ideas?”

The train begins to move, and the rain-soaked exterior of Mumbai disappears into darkness. The train is moving in a hazy dimension now, one of distant, peering eyes and a roiling, lurid purpleness.

“Knowledge. Or rather, the ideals of knowledge. The wonderment, enrapturement, and joy that comes from the realizations of the impossible. The discovery and control of boundaries between the real and fantasy, to be specific...a process that is activating as we speak, perhaps pre-maturely, but necessary...”

The void briefly parts, revealing a burning village. Soldiers bearing Myanmar insignia are fleeing from the scene, as a massive snake with the torso of a human emerges from amidst the houses, bullets bouncing off its scaly hide.

“For as civilization spread, the old myths that brought darkness upon human souls must fade, and rest in the few niches of true nature.”

The village and naga fades, and now they are passing through a large Chinese city. People wearing rainbow sashes and wielding torches are marching upon police precincts and government facilities...including the very officers and officials supposed to be manning them. Some of them are sprouting fangs and scales.

“But when after a long slumber, they shall emerge, no longer cloaked in the darkness of ignorance, but heralding a new dawn.”

The train slows down as it enters into a cavernous underground staging area. The Violet steps out, followed by the Queen. Some of the soldiers idly about recognizes the new arrival, and snap into rigid salutes almost by instinct.

“I see you’ve taken advantage of our former troops as well.” The Queen mutters as she returns the salutes.

“They merely saw the knowledge, the light of a new future.”

One of the Queen’s bodyguards yelps and levels his gun at the spider drone that crept up behind him, lowering it when he notices the half-dead, half-living thing nuzzling his leg with its head. Out of one of the adjacent storage bays, a Typhoon fighter jet crawls out on its wings and landing gear, snarling and snapping its nose open and shut at the hunks of meat some warriors are tossing at it. The Queen notes that the label on above the bay entrance reads “Bronze Wing Prototype Roosts”.

“A queer future, I say.”

“Indeed, but it is a better world, one which sprung from mine creation, the Garden...”

======

“...a wellspring to fuel her misbegotten nightmare of a future!”

Ochiba shakes his head, and levels a blade to both sides, “Both of you pose a threat to this land, and to my cousin. I can’t let you do this.”

“Tsk. Maybe I thought wrong of you.” You remark.

He ignores you.

Thor dispels his hammer, and retrieves the parchment again. “That can be arranged, but first you do agree that these demons must be expunged?”

“No doubt.”

“OCHIBA YOU TRAITOROUS---”

“No, Sanae. He’s right. About me, at least.” You set aside your shield and open your arms, “Come at me, ignore the others. I am the one you want, right Thor?”

A smile forms on the god’s face. In a flash of lightning, he rushes up before you can react, and hurls you and Awyrgan high into the sky, one with each hand. The air rushes past in a deafening roar you as the shock prevents you from air braking with your artificial wings. By the time you can react, you and Awyrgan have already reached the height where Youkai Mountain is but a patch of light in the distance.

“Then don’t take it back when I go all out, Hakurei!” Thor’s voice booms as the thunder in the skies, “Enduring Stockpile: B61!”

Down below amongst the spectators, Reiuji Utsuho feels a sudden pain in her chest. As a result, she doesn’t really notice everyone else moving away, in a justified mass panic, from the area, until the plaza is completely vacated.

======
All the way across the world, a series of blaring alarms send a particular missile silo’s occupants into a panicked frenzy. “Broken Arrow! Broken Arrow!”
======

You can barely see the bomb moving towards you, hurled by the might of a Norse Aesir. You can however, notice the massive threat blob that almost dwarfs Thor’s own doing so. Closing your eyes, you activate the shield and grab ahold of the now-shrunken dragon, hoping for the best.

The nuke detonates in a brief flash of light, then...nothing.

“Hmm?” You see the bomb sailing past you, cracked but not destroyed, its surface covered by a mess of talismans and seals. A green blob, almost as large as Rigel’s own, enters the immediate area.

A soft wind heralds the arrival of the red and white butterfly. Her form is dangling with torn ropes, broken fabric seals, and a defeated-looking Mima. With a brief wave of her arm, layers upon layers of barriers form around the warhead, until it resembles a bubble wrap of faintly glowing divine magic.”

Which explodes in a blinding flash of light and an earth-shaking sound, causing your visor to shutdown briefly and for Awyrgan to roar and squirm in discomfort. When the HUD flickers back to life, you see that everything is mostly intact...save for the massive crater in the Tengu Village plaza that’s emitting a ton of radioactive smoke.

“I missed.” Reimu...that’s not Reimu’s voice, but it’s coming out of her mouth. A rumbling, emotionless tone, “Recalibrating.”

“And so the true opponent has arrived.” Thor shouts, “Good, let’s end this quickly before any more needless suffering should occur.”

“Incident mastermind, seen. I shall start sealing him. Thank you for your prior generosity, Wu Ming.”

“Huh?”

“Thor! Son of Odin!” Reimu cries out as she flies straight down, dodging deftly pass a hail of divine arrows and gunfire as you follow her from a safe horizontal distance away, Awyrgan in tow. “You are a trespasser on these lands. Leave!”

Mima limply falls off of Reimu as the shrine maiden turns into a furious comet. Sending out your Fishing Line, you swiftly reel her out of the barrage that Thor is sending up.

“Thanks….oh, it’s you.” She weakly murmurs upon reaching the ground. The former plaza is all but deserted, with all previous spectators having fucked off when the nuclear warhead that’s not called Utsuho showed up. Sanae has broken free and is collapsed near a burnt building. Marisa is still hovering around, though more out of shock and concern than curiosity. Kasen is standing right on the edge of the hole, unconcerned of the radiation.

You crack open the Eientei medikit and apply one of the yellow patches.

In the middle of the crater is a glowing nimbus of divine energy. Gohei and hammer struggle towards each other, each blocked by a katana.

“Stop this! My cousin...”

“I’m not your cousin, idiot!” Reimu’s normal voice pops back for a second, before returning to the previous rumbling one, “ ‘Hakurei’ Ochiba, if you do not stand out of my way, you will be eliminated just like this invading god.”

“My boy, are you really going to defend this embodiment of human extinction?”

“Both of you! Quiet!” He shouts in sudden anger and slashes, sending both of the opponents back. “Neither of you know what’s true! Or what’s right thing to do?”

“And you do, you false relative? Tell us then.”

“Come on boy. Share your thoughts.”

“You both...just...stop fighting! Reimu! Why can’t you listen to his legitimate grievances on Yukari’s plots! Thor! Why can’t have started off by not attacking this land!”

“Legitimate? Ha. Invaders have no legitimacy.”

“Oh, trust me boy, we tried.”

“Grrr...” Ochiba draws up in a battle stance, “I understand now why the old man told me to come in Gensokyo’s time of need. Neither the enemy nor defender are right. Stand down! Both of you! I shall confront Yukari myself to get the truth and resolve this conflict!”

“Never.” Is the mutual reply.

Watching the three participants square off, you can’t help but feel like the finale is coming.

“Releasing her probably would have saved a few lives, you know.” You comment.

“You fool, this is why we wanted to keep her sealed until the incident is over!” Mima groans as she props herself up with her staff, “The reason for the spellcard system, the pact between native humans and youkai, even the consensual self-modification of the sapient youkai...all of this was to placate the Barrier.”

“Explain?” You ask, surprised.

“The Hakurei Barrier isn’t just a magical barrier, fool. No barrier can actively convert disbelief and forgotten things into a power source. That requires a living entity to even process active absences. Short answer? It’s alive, and the Hakurei lineage is its immune system.”

“We thought it was a great idea at the time.” Kasen monotonically mutters as she limps towards you, a chunk of wood stuck in her thigh from the directed nuke blast,half of her left horn broken off, and her phantom arm completely absent. “Having one of the strongest families of miko serve as the linchpin for the Barrier. Us sages were supposed to intercept larger threats that could cause the Barrier to...start a fever, and steadily feed the shrine maidens dangerous, but handily solvable, incidents to strengthen them. What you’re seeing now is what happens when we fail to intercept.”

“The Barrier took control of her?”

“Elaboration: The will of the Barrier is fully possessing her and unleashing its full power, to the detriment of her long-term integrity. You know what happens when magic users push themselves too far, right? The body of Hakurei Reimu will be consumed in under a day under such exertion...”

“Welp. Time to stop this.” Before either Mima or Kasen can react, you move forward, shield raised and hammer raised, “If there’s anything I’m good for, it’s stopping divine bullshit from hurting other---”

“By the mandate of the Lux. By the dying dreams of a subjugated mankind. I sentence all war criminals to exile, henceforth, from this land….Ahem.” Thor cuts off his own words to rattle off the declaration and grins as he throws you an oppressive stink eye, “Our duels should not be interfered with, this perfectly justified decree should suffice.”

“YOU FUCK---” You were unable to finish your insult as an intangible force, irresistible by gravity or appeal, sweeps you off your feet and flings you, once again, into the night sky.

Consciousness fades swiftly as the G-force reaches beyond even Awyrgan’s turning levels, even as Meiling frantically stabs your brain with her scales. The last thing you see is your big friendly dragon tumbling after you.


[END PART 1]

The sudden smell of smog and trash shocks you back to reality.

“Owww...” You get off from your butt on the floor and look around. Everything is gray. The bricks of the wall you are facing is gray. The trash cans beside you are gray. The cat scurrying away from you is gray.

You blink, and a little color comes back in to your vision. They’re not actually gray, but they are really desaturated. The air is harsh and stale, and your nostrils inflame slightly at the noxious smell. Your head throbs painfully, as if something forgotten is resurging with a vengeance.

“What...just happened?” Sanae groans as she climbs out from a stack of cardboard junk, her gohai held up and outwards like a knife as she cautiously scans the surroundings. “What dimension did he trap us in?”

The sound of a car horn blaring somewhere further to your right takes your attention away. Locking eyes with Sanae in revelation, you remove your phone from your inner breast pocket, cracked but still intact from all the misadventures you had this week. Powering it on for the first time in four days, you groan as it picks up a signal, and the map app showing your location as somewhere in the southern region of Tokyo, Japan.

You silently pass the phone to Sanae, whose eyes noticeably dim as she looks over the information. Experimentally, she tries to inscribe a five-point star on the alley wall, only for the divine magic to fizzle out by the fourth stroke.

“Oh no.” She sighs.

“Oh no is right. We’re at least eleven hours away from the Yatsugatake Mountain Range by car...Awyri!” You call out as you look around the area for the dragon, “I hope she didn’t run off and eat a bunch of salarymen...ah, there she is. Wait, no!”

“Hmm?” The dragon perks up as she removes her face from the window of the jewelry store to look at you running out of the alleyway. “Ah, thou art clear of mind now. Can thee explain what sort of treasure vault is this, which hath no bars nor guards, but only a thin wall of glass to defend from interlopers?”

“Damn it, you’re going to attract lots of...huh.” You see that her draconic features have noticeably regressed. Her wings, normally expansive even in humanoid form, are a pair of stubs more suitable for a moe anime character than a killing machine. Her tails is likewise unobtrusive, barely peeking beneath her long metal skirt. In fact, with a bit more poof to her outfit, there’s no way to tell her apart from a regular human. Apart from the eyes, and the teeth...okay, she’s still incredibly inhuman, but not quite as obvious as before.

“...Forget it, we’ll be fine.”

“Oh...all of you got sent here too?” A dreary voice groans out to you from a hoodie wearing bum sitting on the street corner. You walk over to see a pair of red wulfen eyes staring back at you.

“Hey Momiji. What’s with that get up?”

“I had enchanted my usual clothes just in case I get thrown out into the Outside World again.” She says as the hoodie flickers slightly in the streetlight, revealing the wolf ears hidden beneath, “I’m NOT getting called a cosplayer.”

“I’m going to need to hear that full story later. Now....”

“Ming...”

“What?”

Sanae pauses, then breaks down laughing, “Ha ha, you really are a corpse, aren’t you? Nothing can faze you, can it? Not even facing down a living primordial god of the Norse and being sent back to the Outside World?”

“I’ll have you know. I never planned on staying. I was going to vacation for a week and leave with personal photos and maybe a few magic tricks learned.” You answer matter-of-factly, “Frankly, I don’t care for all of this power fantasy bullshit. As I’ve said to everyone else, I just want to enjoy my puerile dream of visiting a video game fairyland in peace.”

“Do you?” Momiji asks, tone deadened, “We are all quite sure at this point that you are not a normal young human. Or, at least, a living one.”

You check your reflection in the window. The glamour stripping is slowly fading, with patches of living skin “growing” over the dead flesh from top to bottom. Stripping off a chunk of your torn clothes, you wrap it around your non-existent nose and mouth to avoid attention. You still don’t feel a heartbeat save for the faint movements on the odd tumorous growths. Your head throbs, even more painfully this time. Reisen’s hypnosis had loosened something, unlocking...something...

“Have I really changed though?” You sigh, leaning your face against the glass window, “Perhaps you’re right, Momiji. I’m picking fights with gods and playing fast and loose with decency. But really, you guys knew what I did as soon as I came in, right?”

“You saved some children from a pack of despicable outsiders! A heroic act!” Sanae says, confused.

“I told Aya and Momi this already.” You answer as you glance at the tengu, who shakes her head in response, “I’m an opportunist. I see a target. I see a justification. I do terrible things to the target. I was a bit short on cash so I basically murdered and robbed them. It was okay though, since they were terrible people. You would know, Momiji.”

“I really, really wouldn’t have.” She shudders, “But what’s the point in going after the Saviors? You had no stake in the conflict.”

You shrug, “It started off pointlessly. One of them maimed Keine...probably would have killed her with a more direct hit...Village looks for the offender a week later after some more incidents involving the free labor and the Russians...Eientei, including me, find their scout. I brutally murder one of the scouts, which, I remind you, attacked me first. They retaliate by assaulting me and Awyri, gunning down some random war criminals in their zeal. I may have got some. They assault the SDM while I was there...I may have got some, but Flandre butchered several and I took credit...”

“Oh, Flandre did that?”

“Yeah. You think I could actually slaughter them before Awyri hatched? I heal Momiji...actually. Huh. I didn’t have any reason to continue staying in Gensokyo. A normal person would have left already especially with the enemy force specifically trying to kill them. Eientei’s paying me, I guess, but not nearly enough to risk life and limb. Ah...I was having fun, wasn’t I.”

“Fun?” Sanae asks, “Sure, spell card duels may be adrenaline rushing and fun, but certainly not the fights with blood and lost lives! I did what I had to with those evil people, but I would hesitate to call it...enjoyment.”

Momiji avoids her gaze. You take a breath, outside air filling your lungs...and old memories, unlocked with lunar insanity, flooding your mind.

“So...why did you really...”

[x] “But that’s the fun part, Sanae! To hold power over somebody else, to laugh at their powerlessness in your hands. To rip away the sky above their heads, the wind in their faces, forever. To destroy the life of a living being while watching them writhe in agony, is such a decadent, succulent act, like smashing a priceless vase, or burning a pile of money, it is truly more enjoyable than sex, or meals, or...I mean...”

You cough, “I...I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

[x] Hi, this is Wu.

[x] “Ah, Sanae Kochiya, the fandom’s favorite bicycle and eternal school girl. Perfect for a knife to the throat and dismembered throughout Gensokyo, or Tokyo. Probably Tokyo, you’ve probably been missing for a few years so nobody would miss you.”

“Guoguo? Guoguo!” Meiling cries out through your mouth as the Sanae looks on in surprised horror and disgust, “What in the nine springs are you saying?”

[x] “And you, Inubashiri Momiji. So proud and haughty despite being rendered into an almost just as sexualized meme. You shall be beautiful, decapitated and mounted on a public monument for all the fans to gawk at.”

“The FUCK?” Comes the uncharacteristically crude response from the enraged white wolf, drawing a sword to your neck and succeeding in drawing very suspicious looks from the few other people on the street. Realizing the mistake, she quickly dismisses the weapon, turning the suspicious looks into confusion.

You try suppressing the thoughts, but how can you, when it’s yourself?

[x] “And for the dragons...ah, both of you, my lovely ancestor and my steed...shall be impaled as your fates usually dictate. Atop a tower, with me posing as the heroic knight...”

Your face collides with the pavement, leaving cracks in the concrete as the meaty parts turn into gore. Partially from the rainbow strings tugging my body downwards and partially from Awyrgan right hooking you.

“So, you can probably tell why I’m just repeating the spiel about vacationing and minding my own business.” You grimly state as you clamber back up, pink mist reconstituting the masquerade of a human face. “I thought I masked myself completely, but coming back outside...is a bad influence. Really, really sorry about that. Should have told you guys earlier after Thor confirmed mine and Reisen’s suspicions.”

Glaring daggers at you with the others, Momiji coldly asks, “What?”

“Wu Zhenguo...the body and soul which I’m using...is not a good person. To say the least.”

“So what are you then? A foreign spirit?”

“Less than that. I can call it a split personality, but it really isn’t one. More of a hasty facsimile of a personality some god threw together in a hurry with no actual motivation or desires. Probably has something to do with the River Styx.” You nervously scratch your neck, “Also, to answer your first question, the real reason why Wu Zhenguo prepared to enter Gensokyo for years ahead was not for vacation…Wu just wanted to expand his kill record with some exotic samples.”

Sanae sighs and pinches her nose in exhaustion, “You’re not the first wannabe serial killer we got flown in.”

“He’s not even the first serial killer I piloted,” Meiling adds on, words out of your mouth.

“Probably not, but I was probably the first one who planned on gassing the victims with chemicals in their sleep. Why did you think that a vacationer would be packing a smuggled gun, in Japan no less, and goddamn chemical weapons into Gensokyo? Self-defense? I was planning on getting the trust of some of the more naive youkai, like Kyouko, getting familiar enough to hang around...then sealing up the doors and flooding the room with my chemicals while they’re snoring in their futons. Wu Zhenguo wouldn’t care about getting caught after it, after all, he killed something way more precious to the world than an average outside world human.”

“I’ll give that you’re a more creative and suicidal one, but even then, not much of a novelty.”

“Probably true.” You agree. “Also, just to convince you to not stay thy hand if I break. You know those outsiders I killed? Yeah, I just remembered, those weren’t random strangers to me, exactly….”

*******
“So there’s this place, this hidden world?”

“Yes, yes there is.” You impatiently explain to the leering louts while scratching an itch around your neck valve. “Barely any contact of the outside world, and the photos leaked speak for themselves.”

You show them the pictures from the Sumireko leaks. Wolf whistles and nervous laughter are the response. You really don’t want to deal with them, but Gerald’s dad is an Army officer stationed there, and if you wanted to get guns over, you’d have to smuggle it that way.

“Nice. But uh...aren’t they dangerous?” The greasy-haired Japanese transfer, Kazuto mentions.

“They can still get drunk and stuff, so roofies will work quite well. Tell you what.” You clear your throat. “We split up after going into Japan, and enter separately. If any of us nabs one, we’ll spike that chick and fuck her brains out together, eh?”

You neglect to mention that you meant that phrase literally. These four retards probably didn’t come up with anything better, and just agree with the usual combination of self-aggrandizing yelps and antisocial giggles.

“Great idea man. We should, like have a signal too when we’re gonna act. Like,” Gerald imitates pushing a gun up from his coat, “Like, with a real piece, but it’s like, symbolic of my dick!”

You do not mention that you merely plan on tastefully murdering the victims rather than engaging in crude intercourse.

The other three look at him strangely, and you wonder how this moron got into even a mid-tier establishment like World University. Probably a legacy admission. Still, he’s the most outwardly handsome of their little clique, so they don’t go against his stupid idea.

“Good, amirite? Imma go get our supplies ready and booze up dad to ship it for us, we leave next June for Gen...so...kan tail! Man, Zhenguo, you’re an awesome guy.”

They have a lot of...supplies. Mostly since that brown-haired Anderson in their group is like a professional pervert, with blackmail and everything just to fuel his underwear theft campaign...with a side of gaslighting.

You make a mental note to dispose of them too if they succeed in actually drugging a Touhou. You just need their supplies, after all.

*******

“It’s like every time you say something new, a bit more of me becomes disappointed.” Sanae grits out.

Momiji looks as if actively regretting her prior decisions, moreso than before, anyway, “By every god watching over us, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“None. A touch of madness, mayhaps. But the current state of my friend has proven loyal.” The even-toned, draconic voice states from behind you.

“Awyri? You...you’re defending me?”

“Why of course?” She replies, “Thy gluttony for killing is a mere quirk of a lowly mortal. Even in thy undead state, thy physical capabilities...” Awyrgan casually grabs you by the shoulder and hoists you upwards, “...Are the same. He merely poses a threat to those of heroic, goodly disposition. To our lives, he is mainly harmless.”

Sanae moves as if to speak, then thinks better of it as some salt flies off her clothes.

“I am not...”

“What I mean, my friend, tis a fact that thou art barely worth killing. Should we be forced to resort to unsavory measures, it falls upon mine hand to end thy miserable existence. Mine and mine only.” A puff of smoke exhales from her nose as she turns to Momiji and Sanae, “You others...understand?”

“Yes ma’am, we will stay away from your property.” Sanae sarcastically mumbles out, “Technically shouldn’t both Momiji and Meiling have that right more?”

“No no no,” The wolf hurriedly denies, “His status and position are purely ceremonial. By the law, I cannot actually order him to do anything...”

“MOMIJI YOU WHAT?”

“...without use of the blood sigil. I don’t have LEGAL authority over you...but I can still order you to if you give consent. Clan ties.”

“I’m sure you never regretted that decision, eh?”

Momiji’s ears droop, and she looks away. You notice now the brownish-red splotches on her sleeves.

Police sirens sound off amidst the noises of the city. Momiji groans, and dismisses her sword into the aether, with noticeably more effort than an Ethereal Sheath in Gensokyo.

“We ought to move.” She orders without answering your question, “We don’t know if Tokyo police have been compromised by the Saviors.”

“I say we should...”

“On account of recent developments, I think you should stay out of this decision making process, Guo-guo. Oh, and you’re free to kill him if you want, Awyri. Grandma here grants you that right.” Meiling interrupts through your own mouth.

“Alright, geez.”

{ } Find a decent hotel and rest until sunrise
{ } Find an obscure hotel and rest until sunrise
{ } Try to find Yukari’s Outside World assets: Clear Sky

{ } Find a way back to Yatsugatake National Park, quietly
{ } Find a way back to Yatsugatake National Park, as fast as possible

======

[ ] Call mom

{X} Try to find Yukari’s Outside World assets: Clear Sky
[x] Call mom.

While the others are waiting for the cab, you make an excuse to stroll off back into the alley. Turning on your phone, you press your most used contact.

There was no ringing. Your mother immediately picked up. “GUOGUO! IS THAT YOU? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

“Geez mom, you’re so loud. I’m fine.” You lie, turning down the call volume with a desiccated finger.

“Get on the next plane back this instant! I don’t care how much the ticket is, we’ll pay for it! Japan is too dangerous now!”

“I know. I know…mom…” You sigh, “I don’t really know how to tell you this, but I’m not coming back.”

“WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?”

“I’m saying that because I’ve been in the danger first hand, really. Killed a bunch of people.”

“DON’T JOKE LIKE THAT! You can’t keep saying that like you did at home! Who knows who’s listening right now!?”

You don’t reply, but instead send her a picture you took earlier of yourself, a selfie with your gun. You then send her a couple pictures of the corpses you created during today’s lunch break, your face clearly in frame.

“I wasn’t joking mom. These are the ‘terrorist’ knights you saw on the news. I was there when they attacked. I…I found a weapon and some…friends. We killed some of them, they weren’t that smart. I can’t come back with them still around anyway. The sky’s not safe.”

“YOU WHAT? STOP LYING TO LOOK COOL!”

Your short temper with your parents flares up again,

[x] “FUCKING LOOK. I swear to god. You keep thinking I’m kidding when I said I killed people. I really, really wasn’t. I’m probably not going to make it so listen: Remember that dead street urchin that soured the trip when we visited granddad four years ago? Remember how you thought it was weird that he drowned like that? Remember how I was gone for a while during dinner?”

“…”, You hear naught but heavy breathing so, you continue.

“You guys kept saying I was always doing badly, always doing worse than my brother. Well let me tell you, you’re absolutely correct. Wu Zhenguo is an absolute, worthless piece of human garbage that never should have been born. Technically, this isn’t Wu Zhenguo talking to you right now, it’s something like what’s left of his miserable conscience. You know what I’m going to do, I’m going to die and…HEY!”

You futilely grasp at your phone after Meiling plucks it out of your grasp and begins apologizing to your mom with it. “Hi, this is Meiling. I’m sorry, Wu Zhenguo is currently delirious after he ran out of the...”

“Give it...” You snarl as you swipe for the device.

Meiling, holding the phone away, leans in and whispers, “Don’t talk like that to your parents.” before going back to talking on the phone, “Oh, no no no, it’s no trouble after all. He helped me find out that our families were related...Yes, back during the....Very...”

You futilely try to make another grab for small object from the taijiquan master, who easily sidesteps your clumsy movements. You make another attempt, and fall flat on your face into a puddle.

You then realize that Meiling had nicked your first-aid kit, and had injected several syringes worth of sedative into your pressure points. Even with the slow bloodflow of a walking corpse, this much sedation is enough to KO you almost...instantly…

“My friend, unconscious?”

“He’s been up for almost 20 hours by now, in almost constant combat.” Meiling answers the worried Iron Wing’s concerns as she hauls Ming back out. “Let him sleep.”

With her offhand, she tosses the first-aid kit to Momiji and gives a glance at Sanae, who is napping on the wolf’s shoulder.

=======

The Clear Sky branch office in Tokyo is a public location accessible via any map. Even in the current state of emergency, it was not too much effort to call for a taxi via Ming’s phone app.

Both Ming and Sanae are fast asleep when an unoccupied taxi arrived. For the others, this is probably for the better. Meiling made extra sure of it, at least she hopes so. Those Eientei tranquilizers in Ming’s issued kit are supposed to last for some time.

Her descendant, this descendant, can’t fulfill his purpose without a good night’s rest, after all, and neither he nor Sanae’s abilities should be allowed to manifest in the middle of Downtown Tokyo. Plus, Ming was being awfully rude. She’s not going to tell Momiji or Awyrgan that he didn’t really pass out from exhaustion.

“I didn’t know there was a convention running here!” The taxi driver laughs as the non-humans load the humans in first. “That’s the best Sanae cosplay I’ve seen in years! And that Meiling one ain’t bad either!”

“Not convention...It’s just a costume party.” Momiji anxiously smiles as she takes up seating in the front, shoving the dragon into the back with the sleepers, “Take us to this location, thank you.”

“Ah, and the one on the right side...is that a Dark Souls...what’s that dragon girl’s name...that tall one with the scythe. But like, the opposite color. You look great too.”

“...Yes, tis..tis my intent. I appreciate thy praise,” The dragon rumbles back.

“Also, nice, uh contacts you got there. Didn’t know that you can get slit pupil models.”

“Contacts? ”

The driver nervously coughs and turns back around as some smoke comes out of the girl’s nostrils. Meeting Momiji’s red eyes, he gulps, shakes his head, and begins actively avoiding eye contact.

=====

The Clear Sky office is just one of many unassuming storefronts in Tokyo’s Ginza shopping area. Currently closed, no less, with no light nor soul within as Momiji checks the door. Awyrgan steps out carrying the humans under her arms and as soon as she’s out, the taxi quickly speeds off into the distance, crashing an unfortunate trash can over in the process.

As soon as the wolf captain places her face against the glass panels of the door, it opens and the interior lights up, and a familiar, yet alien face speaks out.

“Privyet!”

“How, you guys?” Momiji sputters at the hulking figure greeting her at the door.

“That bastard Thor specified war criminals. That includes us.” Captain Lazarov, still recognizable despite having shed a human visage, says as he gestures for her to enter with a bark-textured hand. “Good thing for my men, really. And for you too. Lady Yakumo has kindly tasked us with securing low-profile redeployment for all of you when I called her.”

Momiji notes that out of the oversized squad of Russians that were previously squatting at Youkai Mountain, only four are inside the lobby of the shipping office, including Lazarov.

“So the rest of your men are…?”

“Waiting for a plane ride back to Russia to report to command. And hopefully, out of the line of danger from earth-shaping explosions for a while.”

“Lucky them.” The Chinese dragon grumbles as she comes in, her (probably soon to be disowned) descendent hoist over her shoulders like a sack of potatoes, followed by the Western dragon carrying the sleeping green shrine maiden. “Oh, hey there Captain, should have figured out that you were a leshy earlier.”

“What, was it obvious that my identity was fraudulent?” The forest spirit that had posed as a bubbly middle-aged, over-performing, Spetsnaz commander, who chain-smoked through numerous packs a day, laughs as he lights up another cigarette, “Not enough for my men, apparently.”

“Fuck you too, kapitan.” Konoroz groans as he tries to sleep on the couch. “‘Fake id’ my ass.”

“That was actually fake though. The NKVD was never too fond of my kind. FSB isn’t either, and I really would rather not have done this if this one...” He extends a wooden claw point and pokes Sanae in the cheek, “Had not forced me to call the nearby trees to shelter my squad from her miracle.”

The squad’s medic hurries in from the back door, his Eientei nanosuit covered in grease. He gives an exhausted salute before saying “Job’s done. Chopper’s fueled, spoofed and ready to go.”

“You guys got a helicopter?” Momiji asks.

“I rewired one parked on the Mitsubishi Heavy Industry building.” Spring sheepishly replies as he cleans himself with the office kitchen sink. “It’s part of my previous profession before both the MVD and the mob started hunting me down for it. Speaking of which, Lieutenant Konoroz, I’m staying in Japan after we finish this mission.”

“Not like I could stop you or anything. I can’t stop any of you, really. Lazarov is self explanatory, you have been stealing cars while I was learning to read, and Vlad can shoot the head off a pigeon a mile away.” Konoroz complains, turning over on the couch. “I don’t know why I even bothered staying.”

“I don’t know, why are you staying? The kapitan and I are going AWOL following completion, and Vlad is staying because he’d rather die than go a hot mission without a collection of severed trophies.

Momiji comments out of the corner of her mouth, “I can see where the war crime part comes in.”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, let us worry about existential questions at a later time.” The leshy says, “So let us see if all of our guests have arrived, Lady Hong, Captain Inubashiri, Lady Kochiya, that one with the fake name, and...” His eyes drift over to the steel-haired girl snacking on the paperclips on the receptionist desk, “...Lady...Awyr...gan, correct?”

“Tis mine name. Why?”

Lazarov shakes a cigarette at her, “Nothing, just a language oddity I recalled. it’s Welsh for either ‘Sky Song’, or ‘Sky Taker/Haver’, the former of which can describe dragons in modern fiction and the latter of which describes depictions in antiquity and likely your reality. I heard you came from a German creator, though. Quite odd.”

“Mine creator’s naming tastes are beyond mine divinations. I know naught of his name even, only that he was a Berliner.”

“Berlin was a fine city….back in 1200. Tsk.”

“A leshy like you only appreciates cities if they’re small settlements huddled beneath the shadow of a forest.” Meiling remarks as she steals one of Lazarov’s cigarettes, “Those aren’t as fun to flood. Now, are we going to the helicopter or what?”

“Vlad’s still getting food. We’re all hungry here. Ah...” Lazarov says as the front door flies open and a pale soldier barges in with bags of groceries and take out food. “Vlad! What took you so long?”

“I SHOULD HAVE TAKEN A RADIO. CYKA BLYAT!” Vlad cries out as he tosses bags to everyone present and dashes for the backdoor, “We need to run! I saw one of the knights in a trenchcoat tailing me as I came back!”

====

There were still plenty of people on the streets of Tokyo at 2:00 AM, even with the curfew going on from the state of emergency. As such, practically everyone noticed the group of weirdly dressed men and women outrunning the street traffic as they bounded over cartops and awnings. Most of them were not too recognizable in their current outfit, except…

“MOMIZI!”

“Is that a parkouring Momiji cosplayer? She’s so cool!”

“I love you Momiji!”

The wolf tries her best to ignore the comments, but grows exasperated, “Really,” She complains to Lazarov, who’s grappling across building walls beside her with the fluidity of a growing vine. “Even with the jacket?”

“Your ears are showing. Loose hoodies don’t deal well with air resistance.” The leshy nonchalantly replies.

“If you were worried about it, you should just have possessed another body!” Ming...not Ming, Meiling puppeteering Ming’s body comments from her other side with her own voice. Momiji harumphs, annoyed that the ones who didn’t prepare an outfit for the Outside World ended up being the ones not recognized.

Sanae didn’t have an outfit either, but she’s still sedated and wrapped up tightly in a sleeping bag bound by dragon scales, and carried by said dragon down Tokyo’s sidewalks. Flanked by the human Russians who aren’t too familiar with such casual aerial movement, they function as an unintentional plow through the pedestrians. The angry (for Japan, anyway) shouting coming after them isn’t just from that, however. Awyrgan had been grabbing whatever caught her eye from open storefronts and street stalls, making Konoroz expel a steady stream of curses as he has to tactically deposit cash for each one of her victims as he sprints past. He gives up trying to estimate the cost after the first few and just threw a wad of yen at anyone shouting.

“Mitsubishi building is just ten blocks ahead, we got...” Blaring sirens interrupt Vlad’s speech, “Oh suka, it’s the Tokyo cops! They’re...”

“Six blocks in the front.” Momiji cuts him off as she gives a cursory glance to the front “More closing in. Lets go to the rooftops.”

“How does that help us? We’ll be stuck!” Vlad exclaims as he leaps over a car to a third story window sill. He then slaps himself in the head.

The gang picks the closest skyscraper, a banking establishment, and rush in, ignoring the protests of the security guards and receptionists that they vault over as they run to the elevator.

As the doors close, Konoroz collapses onto his ass, and the rest lean onto whatever they could hold.

“Low profile, eh?” He snarks.

“Low profile enough for a hot evac, lieutenant. The JSDF wouldn’t be coming for us, at least. Didn’t think that the police had been compromised.”

“Are you sure they’re not just doing their job?”

“I saw knights in their ranks. Armor and all.” Momiji answers, shaking her head. “They’re everywhere.”

“What a shame.” Spring says, popping open a pack of M&Ms while Vlad offers everyone the bucket of chicken he was carrying, “I was hoping that we could get a leave of absence in Tokyo for at least one night. Go party, you know?”

“You’re still on-duty, soldier. No going AWOL until we ensure a stable observation post in Gensokyo like the one the Chinese have.” Lazarov says as he pulls out yet another cigarette. Meiling slaps it out of the leshy’s hands before he could light it up inside the elevator.

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, you uh...Awyrgan? You’ve been quiet this whole time. Hey!” Spring recoils in pain as Awyrgan whips her tail around his leg, enough to make an impact through the nanoscale armor.

“Thou shalt address mine name with the title of Lady, villein.” She chastises while holding a inward tilted claw up to her collar, in imitation of the motions she saw the ladies of Gensokyo do while she spied on them as a tank.

“Alright, your majesty, how do you feel about this whole affair? I mean, I get that you enjoy it, but unlike everyone else here, you don’t really have a duty or stake in this. Even Wu Ming fights because he is a hardcore Touhou fan, right?”

“Yep, ” Meiling lies, giving a plaintive gesture with Ming’s arms, “That’s why he’s here, what a dumb kid.”

“To answer thy inquiry, peasant. Dragon and nobles live to consume wealth. And the armor of our enemies alone.” Her reptilian eyes dilate into what can be called a happy gaze, “Are worthy hoards.”

The elevator dings, and the door opens, Lazarov sprays outwards in a hail of roots to ensure the absence of any hidden dangers, before retracting into his more humanoid appearance and gesturing that all is clear. Everyone then resumes sprinting towards the objective.



“Hey Vlad, you probably could have gotten here faster if you ditched the convenience store food.” Momiji says, pulling out a chicken leg from her bag while still sprinting, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“What kind of spetsnaz do you take me for? There is no difference between running bare or with forty pounds.” Vlad scoffs, the Eientei nanosuit easily allowing him to keep up with an Outside World debuffed youkai. “Any hostiles up ahead?”

“At this height?” Momiji leaps across the gap between the buildings, sinks her claws into the masonry on the side of the next, and propels herself upwards onto the roof of the next one to get a better look, “Two suborned Keishicho patrol cars coming from the 3 o’clock, about two klicks out. Hostile helicopter’s coming in from our direct rear, six klicks, and I’m seeing more aircraft and cars mobilizing in stations all around us, with what looks to be Savior knight presences on the stations to our 10, about fifty klicks away.”

“We gotta trust you on this one, Captain.” Konoroz shouts as he tosses out a grappling hook to follow, “Even these Lunar visors can’t go that far.”

“Even with the Outside smog, I can still see as far as 200 to 250 ri even at night.” She explains, with quite a bit of pride, before the sound of a door slamming open cuts her off.

“Now, what...armed hostiles!” She calls out as she sees a number of figures coming out of the roof access to her right, and fires off several weak bolts of danmaku to light the targets up.

Momiji hesitates for a moment, seeing the frightened faces of the GAM volunteers dressed in naught more than light armor and holding just conventional small arms rather than the 50 caliber monstrosities the regulars do. About half of them appear to be shaking at the prospect.

“Do not fear, evil cannot prevail against our righteousness!” The knight leading them booms as a shimmering aura surrounds them, blocking the hail of pulse rounds that the Russians fired on reaction. Momiji leaps back, deftly fending off the blessed rounds with experienced shield movements as Meiling follows her onto the higher rooftop in Ming’s unconscious form, using the exoskeleton to propel the sack of dead flesh forward.

The graviton shield blossoms with beautiful rainbow light, forming a crystalline wall that swallows up every incoming projectile with its own superior divine potential while blinding the attackers. The knight shouts a command as he regains sight, and his troops hurl out a barrage of grenades over the crystalline shield…

...Only to have them all snatched out of the air by a spiritual jaw.

“Wolf Sign: Rabies Bite...” Momiji whispers from her position in the air, before flinging her shield at the knight in fluid coordination with a snap from the jaws.

The shield bounces off and ricochets in an arc, bouncing back to her arm. Momiji’s toss did little but mildly disrupt the divine barrier with the shield’s herobane properties. After all, what good is a divine barrier if it can’t withstand the assault of such wicked youkai?

It can’t, however, withstand the slow, dodgeable blades that hurled towards it. If they had seen them, they could have simply moved out of the way. The wolf had distracted the prey just enough that the Ohabaris were free to impact the barrier, blackening it and cracking it even with the absence of Awyrgan’s more magically-intensive mechanisms. The bronze pieces break off, scratching cloth and exposed skin where it may find.

The pulse fire that resumed soon afterwards was not so kind.

Lunar pulse rifles were designed to be clean weapons, allowing even untrained citizens to thoroughly sterilize any impurity that snuck onto the moon. There’s no messy gore or blood from the steady stream of bolts, as the impact areas are instantly vaporized and cauterized. For the tough monstrosities they were intended for, it can be considered an unintentional benefit.

Regular humans, however, are turned into grotesque swiss cheese as the pulse rounds disintegrate parts of their body into clean, sterile, plate sized holes. The spetsnaz were merciful, and actively went for head height shots in violation of training, but in concordance with their integrated targeting systems.

It’s funny how, in the absence of a skull, a jawbone can remain attached to the neck if the joints are fused by intense heat.

“You can’t save them all....you can’t save any of them.” Ming murmurs out of the corner of his mouth. Drunken sleep talk. Nobody heard him, not even Meiling, who was busy finishing off the pulse-burned knight with a ki-stomp (breaking Ming’s bones once again) and a swing from her descendant’s warhammer. The ones behind her simply leap over the corpses as they continue hopping and grappling their way to the Mitsubishi building.

Soon, the helipad is in sight, along with its attendant prize: A Sikorsky S-76 transport helicopter, notably with some external panels dangling loose, the doors ajar, the control wires exposed, and the helipad staff bound, gagged, and knocked out next to the roof entrance.

Lazarov looks at the hijacked panel with disbelief as Spring happily inserts himself into the pilot seat. “Why is the radio on the copilot’s seat?”

“It was in the way! Kapitan!” Spring answers with a shit-eating grin as he tugs on some sparking wires, and the engine starts up. As the rotors whirl, the helicopter slowly lifts off and departs the building, albeit while making several highly concerning mechanical sounds in protest at the spetsnaz’s intrusion.

Momiji got on last, carefully making sure she’s next to the door entrance, so as to maintain a maximum field of view. Her precautions bore fruit, as she spots several incoming aircraft from the west as the helicopter flies out of Shinjuku and past Chofu.

“Fighter jets coming towards us from the Southeast” She warns.

“Friend or foe?”

“Let’s hope: Friend. If not, prepare the parachute systems on your suits if you have any.”

Several tense moments pass as the jets fly past Momiji’s vision range and into the helicopter’s radar range. To her relief, the radio comes alive before she sees any missiles being fired.

She’s only seen fighter jets once in-person, when she got booted Outside the first time, but she still knows that their danmaku comes in the flavor of trail-spewing explosive missiles from the games her temporary associate then had.

(x) Nothing is wrong.
(x) Everything went wrong.

“Captain Inubashiri. Details. Please.”

“The outsider known as Wu Ming did some...seriously fucked up shit,” Momiji breaks and allows her learned English lingo from her old employer to leak in, “Project Iron Wing is KIA and is currently…compromised by him. Confirmed presence of a second Thor-level Savior leader: Arcturus. Everything went wrong.”

She coughs, choking in half-imagined stench.

“Evac for relevant persons is on point and on time. All involved are operational. Nothing is wrong. Except, of course, for...”
====

“Something wrong?” The Queen of England asks the Reigning Sage of Gensokyo, whose face darkens noticeably as she listens to the frantic report in the phone.

“You might want to hold off on the knighting ceremony, your majesty. Curse it. Of course something like that had to happen...Ran! Put the old fellow back on ice.” Yukari shouts to her shikigami through a gap, all the way across the camp, “He’s not going to be happy about what his work turned into.”

====

“So...um, you gonna go, boss?” Ahmed worriedly asks the kitsune cringing at the sudden loud voice coming through a gap.

“Oh, I’m going to go,” Ran seethes, “I’ll go when I need to, when her mistake shows up. Master Yukari seems to have forgotten that I told her from the beginning that she should have personally escorted them, or at least sent a prototype squadron.”

“Would she not forcibly chastise you as she usually does?” Kokoro comments from the neighboring tent, gesturing a makeup brush with one hand and restraining a squirming Sylla in another.

“I really do not care. There’s a lesson that needs to be taught.”

=====
Time: 0600 hours
Data: July 1, 20XX
Location: Skies above Yatsugatake Mountains, Nagano, Japan
Threat Level: 11

The radio buzzes alive, awakening you from your dozing. You shuffle off of Awyrgan’s corpse’s shoulder, and lean over to hear.

“Come in, Lord Inubashiri, this is Wolf Guard Captain Tadakuni. You are approaching the Nagano free-fire zone. We’ve marked a landing spot for you. Over.”

“Affirmative. Over.” You hear Momiji reply, exhaustion in her voice.

The helicopter begins its descent, coated by Awyrgan’s thin layers of sight-blocking plasma as well as loose tendrils of her own form.

Ahead of you, the dawn light illuminates the treetops with a golden light, along with the craters, smoking wreckages...You squint and see that large splotches of ground have been stained a rusty red for some reason. Sounds of gunfire, explosions, and stranger sounds can be heard as you approach the canopy, but no missiles came in.

Likely out of fear, or simple lack of stealth detection.

You spray the awakening antidote from your medikit onto Sanae, and attempt to do the same with your ancestor who is splayed out on the helicopter floor, but Meiling does not respond at all. She’s breathing, but regardless of how much you kick her, the lazy excuse for a rainbow serpent would not arise.

Oh well.

The helicopter touches down, and a line of white wolf infantry take a knee as Momiji hops off onto the grassy clearing. They hesitate when they see the Inubashiri shield strapped on your graviton barrier as you stumble out, Awyrgan’s scaled enhancements to your exoskeleton taking the place of your missing leg.

“My lord, Is he...”

Momiji gives the troops a blank stare, and moves as if to say something, then reluctantly nods her head.

The Russians pile out of the cockpit after you, each of them exchanging salutes with the tengu and avoiding eye contact with you or Awyrgan, who followed closely behind. Sanae came out last, yawning and stretching...and sort of confused.

“We’re here already? What did I miss?”

“Many things...” Lazarov says quietly.

“Everyone out?”

“All except for Meiling, who’s exhausted from the aerial battle.” Momiji takes note of the troops’ conditions. “What’s the next step?”

“The Hakurei Shrine is currently secured. Lady Yakumo and Matarajin are working on opening a backdoor, but just half an hour ago an unknown fighter that the US forces termed ‘The Hunter’ flew in and blew apart several layers of wards and positions, letting many Savior forces filter in. Outlying forces like us have been running longer patrols to keep up integrity, and we’re fighting constant skirmishes.” Tadakuni then gestures at the ofuda and glyphs on the trees surrounding the immediate location. “We’ve been able to set up a warded position here without notice, but I guarantee that such secrecy is no longer the case once you’ve landed.

“Wait, who’s ‘Matarajin’...”

{(x)}HUNT. I need to craft...to compleat...my friend. Please.

“We’ll lead the way then.” You offer, “If there’s anything Awyri and I are good at, it’s not dying. What?”

Everyone but the tengu soldiers and Sanae looks away from you.

Momiji bites her lip, “Sure. Take the lead, Draken Cataphract. Hopefully, this will be your last sortie. For your sake.”

“I’ll go too!” The shrine maiden pipes up, “It’s my...”

“...You stay with us.” Lazarov quietly orders as he pulls Sanae back, “As far as we know, a silver bullet to the head can kill you outside of Gensokyo’s influence.”

Awyrgan stretches and shifts. Smaller mass than last time, but still an obvious target Pretty hard to miss a massive rotting dracolich cyborg glowing with leaking purple heat. Weird, she usually says something boastful before doing this. In fact, she shouldn’t be this silent.

“Awyri?”

“Yes, you need something Ming?”

She usually also talked in a different, Shakespearean way. Not anymore. Not after she died imitating you. Probably she decided to listen to your complaints.

“Nevermind.”

Odd.

Awyrgan scarcely stepped fifty meters out of the barrier when gunfire and rocket motors come alive from the surrounding treeline, still somewhat dark in the dawnlight. Shots and explosions hammer against her hide, but despite their silvery holy light, are not getting through her scales. After all, such measures were designed to counter living or dead things. She is neither now.

You take a moment to into account the surroundings while the others hang back, away from the attractive target. “Jesus, that’s a ton of threat blobs...holy,” You hastily throw up your shield and recoil as a missile detonates just meters away from you. “Are those small warbeasts?” you mutter as you spot large threat blobs amongst the smaller ones in the distance.

Judging by their locations, they’re well entrenched behind ridges and content to simply unleash volley after volley of missiles at the snarling dragon, who roars and attempts to charge forth, but cannot from the sheer amount of firepower pushing her back. Her newly recovered frame does not seem to hold up well.

Awyrgan attempts to take off, but yet more missiles knock her off balance and out of the air. You attempt to use your Stop to aid her, but as you attempt to cast the ingrained spell, the energies simply fizzle, without even a forceful feedback like what you experienced upon your first attempt at magic.

Maybe it only works within Gensokyo. You think as a sudden wave of nausea comes over you. Collapsing, you lean forward and vomit onto the ground. A slurry of river water and what looks like tumors come out.

“There he is, the Null Fiend!” You hear somebody shout from your blind spot, right before a multitude of bullets tear into your side, knocking you sideways. The dragon scales and moonsilver hold, but much like your companion, the enemy is compensating for your heavy armor and half-living composition by pinning you down with ceaseless fire.

“Inubashiri! Protect my men! Walking into an ambush and falling apart...disappointing!I expected better of a monstrosity like you!”

Abruptly, the earth shakes, and you manage to struggle up as a colossal formation of tree roots spring up to shield you from the bullets, at least for a while. Lazarov skates up his own roots like a grinding rail, firing his Lunarian pulse rifle with one hand and spewing out more plant matter with the other as they are torn apart by the silver bullets.

You crawl up. Some of the rounds made it through but you don’t feel much different. Just in time, you see the leshy roll off the wall of roots as a flamethrower torches the whole thing.

Throwing up the shield, you step forth to cover the faux-Spetsnaz and return fire with your sidearm into the smoke of the burning roots. As soon as he dives away into a nearby thicket and disappears, you sprint over to the struggling zombie dragon, activating Patchouli’s amulet barrier in the process and ignoring the tremors from the missiles hitting her, and begin healing.

The mists do not come out as a steady stream, but more of a sputtering fountain, little bits of lifespan diffusing into Awyrgan’s skin. The pain in your head returns with a throbbing vengeance, and you see your remaining arm catching aflame. Cursing, you cease the spell early.

My friend...please...stop hurting us...both...

Apparently that was just enough to jump start her defenses though, as streaks of plasma arc out from her form amidst a mighty roar, acting as flares to disorient and detonate the incoming missiles. She then turns and charges, smashing through Lazarov’s burning barrier in the process all while unleashing a flurry of flames and machine gun fire. Each shot ruptures yet more of her rotting form, further disrupting her draconic figure into a heaping eldritch mess.

The ambushing knights didn’t stand much of a chance as the searing plasma burnt away their replicated Lunarian camouflage. Foolishly, they decide to stand and fight, raising their guns and lances at the dragon closing in.

Awyrgan doesn’t even flinch as she throws herself into the silver-tipped weapons. A few swipes and stomps, and the knights are swiftly reduced to crumpled heaps on the ground before they can recover from the shock of their blessed lances lodging inside the dragon, and doing nothing.

You notice with some confusion that despite her ferocity...

“She’s not eating them...” Lazarov mutters as he pulls himself up. “Wait, what is she...”

“Tiamat’s Blessing: Breath of Life” [x] “Tiamat’s Hunleff: Styx Compleation.” Awyrgan incants as she vomits a slurry of river water and mechanical lizards from her internals and exhales some sort of pink fog, onto the wounded Saviors. ”Forsake life, forsake death. Strong like Achilles. Slave like helots.”

Did she steal and replicate your healing capabilities? You feel even more worthless than usual as you watch your friend give first aid to the enemy.

Slowly, struggling, the enemy soldiers stand back up Their bodies twisted and missing parts replaced by oily mechanics and cancerous grey flesh. “You..healed us? ””PLEASE, ANY OF YOU! KILL US!”

Once again, you notice Momiji and the Russians covering their ears and looking away. Why? Sanae and the other tengu soldiers do not, but the shrine maiden seems disturbed for some reason as she cautiously approaches, unarmored as she is.

“Don’t even try to reach for a weapon, and stay still.””Unless you wish to be free, then run back to your comrades, they can save you.“

To your surprise, Awyrgan made no attempt to stop the soldiers as they ran immediately after regaining balance, in direct violation of her orders. You raise your gun, but she nails you with a tail swipe.

“Awyri, what the fuck are you doing?” You sputter out, your face full of mud.

She ignores you, remaining silent as she stares off into the woods, ignoring the occasional potshot that plinks off her hide. You attempt to give chase, but Awyrgan coils her tail around you, preventing movement.

About five minutes later, she suddenly stirs and rears up, knocking you onto the ground. “Dragon’s Trap: Sacrificial Implosion.” [x]Stopcall Metelcreftt: Warping Wail

Explosions sound off in the woods ahead, and you see, through your Hunter module, massive threat blobs appearing and disappearing in the blink of an eye. Something inside of you screams with a dozen voices, and then falls silent.

“...Awyrgan, again, what the fuck?”

“Coast is clear. There should be no more opposition.” She roars, a wet, strangling sound, signaling the others hiding behind the wards to move on.

As you jog past the previous ambush positions, you see naught but broken corpses and the wrecked remains of truck-sized warbeasts.

Well, more like the opposite of broken...most of them are actually quite alive and well, if catatonic. They are, however, restrained by their comrades, stretched out into grotesque Junji Ito-esque webs of bone, flesh and rusty metal that pin the soldiers down like boars in a net trap. Those ones are, luckily for them, quite brain-dead now. Still nominally alive, though, if with too many spindly limbs sprouting from their torsos.

Easier than killing them, really. Their armor is tough but their minds are weak. Such a body net works wonders.

“My frien--Ming...”

“Hmm?”

“Did I follow your orders correctly? I...had to improvise.”

“I didn’t give you any orders you damn overpowered dragon. Stop stealing my spells.”

“Thou art...truly ignorant...of mine state? You didn’t? Must’ve been hearing things then.”

Behind you, unnoticed, is the sound of your allies losing their dinners. In Vlad and Konoroz’s case, it’s just the vodka they downed earlier after witnessing your act in the chopper.Sanae doesn't see it though, and is loudly expression confusion at the sudden vomiting.

Apparently that was all of the thin quantity of Saviors that managed to infiltrate in, as it was only thirty minutes more of silent walking that you’ve reached the overgrown path leading to the Hakurei Shrine.

Craters dot the area, and here and there you can see ruined equipment, vehicles and such dotting the previously pristine landscape.

At the foot of the shrine now sits several bunkers...Albanian bunkers specifically as some of their signage indicates, and appear to have been displaced along with a large chunk of the ground they were attached to into Japan.

“Ey!” A soldier waves from behind one of them with a rather peculiar flare...wait, she’s casting a spell, “We’ve been expecting you lot! We were going to check out the noise you made but we’re a little thin. The main force and all of upper management’s already gone into the absolute one-way breach.”

You look up. Where the front doors of the shrine were once sealed shut, is now a yawning black void of vague definition...that stretches all the way up to the sky like a loathsome pillar.

“And those Saviors ambushing us didn’t follow you in?” Momiji asks as she signals back, her projected danmaku forming the leaf crest of Inubashiri.

“There were ambushers? A ton of them assaulted us shortly after the ‘Hunter’ bombarded us and we assumed that was the last of their forces here. Took out our comms too. But I’m pretty sure we got them all...at a cost. Eh, I work at a crematorium, I’m used to handling dead people I knew.”

And now you can see the Clear Sky-marked body bags loaded up in a couple of train cars lying behind the bunkers. Next to it, a somewhat larger and bulkier pile of corpses are haphazardly covered over with tarps.

“Wait...” Momiji narrows her eyes as she inspects the young woman’s figure from at least thirty meters away, “You’re not a mercenary.”

“Nope! Just a local fan of bullet shooting girls in frilly dresses. Lol. Ooh! You’re the actual Momiji and not another white wolf, right?...ooh...are you...” She turns bright red as the tengu leaps over and physically inspects her.

“A commoner?” Momiji wonders as she holds the makeshift soldier’s face by the chin, who judging by her expression is achieving some sort of physical fangasm. “Is Yukari really just grabbing random fans off the street now?”

“Y...yes, something about us being a great source of faith for Matarajin...can I get a picture with you? I already got one with the other captains and I really want one with the...”

“Sure why not.” Momiji barely manages the hint of a smile as the soldier gleefully pulls her in for a selfie while the other Clear Sky members in the bunkers snicker, “Tadakuni, didn’t Yukari report something along the lines of 20,000 enemies moving into Gensokyo?”

“Yes, Guard-Captain, they had alternate entry points. Our objective for Hakurei Shrine was to secure our breach into the enemy-held barrier as it was already far too late to deny their’s. We were effectively facing against their rear guard, and most of them were no more experienced than Sakura over here…and far less vicious.”

“Still, holding rear-guard with...civilians!”

“Um, actually she did most of the work.” Sakura points at a figure that you’ve just now noticed is sitting on the top step of the shrine, head in hands. “We kind of just covered for her while her telekinesis took care of everything. As tough as the knights were, thrown boulders still crushed them to pulp.”

Momiji scans the figure without moving, “Who...wait. Bowler hat...funny cape...school girl. Hey, you’re the one that caused the Occult Balls incident! Sumireko Usami!”

No response.

“That girl ain’t right, Guard-Captain.” The sergeant for the irregulars comes out from the bunker, obviously somewhat out of it as the half-empty bottle in his hand shows. “She was just fine killing them left and right during the battle, but fell apart as soon as she cooled down and saw the corpses...Ey! Shriveled looking guy, green shrine maiden, whatcha doing? She’s dangerous!”

If nothing else. Sumireko’s notes were what inspired you to breach the border in the first place. The least you could do is check up on her, you’re still sort of a doctor, after all.

Please...do not...

Ignoring the small pebbles half-heartedly flung at you by the psychic, you approach the shell-shocked girl, “Sumireko?”

“Yes...that’s my pseudonym...who are you…?”

“Just some fellow outsiders,” Sanae says as she follows you up, subtly invoking some sort of divine magic in her back hand. “I didn’t really get to know you in Gensokyo…...”

“Mind tricks on an esper?” Sumireko replies in a deadened monotone as the shrine maiden yelps, her spell fizzling with a small explosion, “At least you tried....Sanae, was it?”

“Huh?!”

“You’re a high school girl too. Have you...killed before?”

“I actually should be in college now, and a couple dozens and counting, why?”

“...Was it disgusting?”

“Now what sort of a question is that? Of course death is impure...”

“...Come to think of it” You interject, “You do seem awfully cavalier after commiting your first human kills, Sanae.”

Sanae smugly puffs up her chest, “No different than a serious youkai extermination.”

“Are you sure they...died, Sanae?” Sumireko has begun rocking back and forth.

“I kind of turned them to salt, so yes.”

“People die when they are killed, you know.” You cannot help but add on.

The rocking stops, “Everyone from Gensokyo turned out fine when I shot my 3D printed gun at them...or slammed down telephone poles on them, you know. “I assumed the same for fighting outside, but...real death is...so much...viscera...blood...shit...organs...”

Out of curiosity, you turn the black light mode on for your Hunter Module. Indeed, other than the corpses recovered, there appears to be many others spread around the area, often times in the form of thin smears. None are really recoverable without a bucket. Ew.

“But...I needed to keep fighting. I realized, those were real bullets. I kept going even after I retched at their remains. Automatically. I did this...I turned these living people into garbage.”

You kind of understand her reactions now, especially if you consider Urban Legend in Limbo to be a somewhat accurate depiction in regards to the effects her attacks have on people. Her glazed, hollow eyes are pretty typical of a high schooler who experienced actual warfare beyond the intentionally sanitized combat inside of Gensokyo.

“Sumireko, it’s okay. You didn’t...”

“I volunteered, I know what you’re going to say. This was my choice. I just don’t know if I...should live with it...”

Sanae backs off as Sumireko’s revolver slowly levitates upwards. “Ming...” She whispers, “Do something...”

“Why always me? Weren’t you a high school girl too? Come to think of it, weren’t you a little too relaxed over killing that many people?”

“They were enemies! Evil ones worse than any youkai I know! Also I was kind of out of it at the time...”

Sanae falls silent as the telekinetic revolver points towards you “I can hear you, you know.” Sumireko monotones, “Who are you, anyway? Ming? I did not meet you in Gensokyo, or many men in general.”

Pick your next words carefully. While the gun is aimed at you, the shaken nature of her control over it, the look in her eyes, and the things she said...the only person she would be shooting soon is herself.

And with her abilities, she wouldn’t even have to turn the gun.

Also, shouldn’t Awyrgan be intervening about now? You look back and the dragon girl is just standing there motionless.

{ }...My friend...senses...fading...
[ ] Try to convince Sumireko that she did what was necessary.
{ }...Cannot...feel...I...am...burning...
[ ] Just Mist and drug her for now. It’s Yukari’s job to get her a qualified therapist.
{ }...Corruption...at 40%...rising...failure to repair...result in irrevocable EXPANSION of function
[ ] Does Hew’s healing work on mental trauma? It probably doesn’t hurt to try if you frame it the right way.

60-hour weeks suck.

===

[x] Try to convince Sumireko that she did what was necessary.
{x}Yes...Please...Do not...exert thyself...

See, the problem is that you, a person with a very, very “odd” view on the value of human life, is trying to convince a previously ordinary Japanese teenager that a bit of gore and splatter is perfectly normal.

As expected, you fail horribly, and Sanae forcibly muffles your mouth shut before Sumireko could become even more traumatized as you reel over a severed enemy’s head with your fishing line and begin pantomiming with it in an attempt to prove a point.

*BLAM*

Oh right, the revolver. You look down and see that Sumireko had blasted a nice hole in your chest with an ESP accelerated bullet, right through the dragon scales.

“Eh, I’m already mostly dead, you can shoot me more if you want to unwind. I probably won’t die.” You casually say, pushing Sanae off, as Sumireko freezes in the middle of another trigger pull to look at the stale blood and rot coming out of your slowly mending wound.

“You’re a zombie?” Sumireko exclaims as she leaps back and grabs the gun with her actual hands, leveling it at you.

“Close enough. It’s more like I’m still held together by technology and regenerative magic. Which is the point I’m trying to make. Change...any change, requires sacrifice, whether of yourself, or of others.” You voice grows cold, “Just be glad that those that did die are some foolish zealots rather than yourself or anyone you cared about, and consider that those you do care about will die if you do not sacrifice those you do not.”

“M...Mokou is immortal!” Sumireko replies, in a sort of strained joking tone.

“They did worse to her. I had to painfully purify her in that form. Immortality, in the hands of this enemy, means eternal torment.” You lean in just close enough to be uncomfortable, “You would not want Mokou to be stuck as one of those red warbeasts...consumed by the Saviors’ eldritch backer.”

“I...” Sumireko lowers the gun, her eyes glossy and her lips trembling.

“So for her sake...for everyone else’s sake that you care about...keeping doing what you did. If you think it is too much, just blame me for it and shoot me all you want. Blame Wu Zhenguo, the wicked Chinese interloper, for causing all of this horror and suffering. You did nothing wrong.”

======

Hungry crows circle the skies.

Groans of the walking sick fill the streets.

Cries of the hungry poor radiate throughout the desecrated temples.

Weeping from those abandoned to die alone.

Murmuring questions of the dead souls, gathered unseen on the streets of Athens, asking why this had to happen.

Silence from the god who had no answer.


======

“Didn’t you say you were not going to take blame?” Momiji darkly mutters.

“There’s a difference between taking responsibility for an act and taking responsibility for bad feelings. Namely, I don’t care about the latter.”

Sanae isn’t speaking to you.

And once again, you cross back into Gensokyo. Sumireko did not follow yet. She has to decide for herself.

You emerge cleanly, without falling onto your face, atop the stairs leading to the Hakurei Shrine.

Gensokyo is almost unrecognizable.

In a single night, the landscape now bears a close resemblance to Mordor. Large chunks of landscape are blackened and smoldering, and the trees that did not suffer the fate of burning look to be blown apart, at least in the area around the shrine. The Human Village is just a crater now, though by annihilation or Keine you’re not sure, and further down in the valley you can make out the explosions and smoke typical of modern warfare.

Every minute or so, the sky erupts in a series of dazzling, thunderous explosions miles wide in radii. None are flying save for the avatars of the three sides of the conflict: a streak of ball lightning, a gold-black seraph, and a red-white butterfly, to which, the pulsating shockwaves have no effect. Furthermore, a strange aurora borealis is covering the sky, despite it being in the morning and nowhere near the poles.

And, of course, is the snow. For some reason the whole place is engulfed in a snowstorm in the middle of summer, complete with the thunder from the aerial explosions and the lightning from what you presume to be Thor’s assaults.

Below, flashes of light, clouds of smoke, the distinct buzzing of high density spellcraft, and the piercing noise of conventional weaponry are what adorns the valley below, overcoming the howling of wind and snow.

“Terrible, isn’t it?”

A blond figure in a white and purple dress, flanked by another blonde with a similar, blue-themed dress with nine very fluffy tails, stands below the torii at the edge of the shrine’s boundary behind you.

“Nice to see you again, honorable Spetsnaz. Glad to see you safe, Sanae, and I don’t believe we have met yet, Ming and...Awyrgan, was it?” She gives an irritatingly cute smile and extends her hand, “I am Yukari Yakumo, a Sage of this Garden.”

[x] Extend arm

Without much thinking, you reach out past her offered hand and sock Yukari square in the face.

“YOU ALMOST KILLED ME WITH THAT FAKE SWORD PRANK YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!” You scream, memories of suffocating under that warbeast-corrupted Kaguya still fresh in your mind.

“My my, I did not realize death was a concern to you. Apologies. Rinnosuke was supposed to have disposed of that years ago.” Yukari ignores your fist planted in her face as she says it in a decidingly unapologetic tone as she bows down through your arm, a gap consuming it along the way. It feels empty, but somewhat warm. “And for our dear Iron Wing...Awyrgan...”

Yukari stops talking as she opens up several Eyes of Laplace on the decaying dragon girl, who stares back with misty eyes and a rotten mockery of a polite smile.

“Performance at desired perimeters,” The dragon mechanically states.

The Sage holds up a hand to her mouth, involuntarily, as Ran whispers into her ear with a concerned, and somewhat smug, frown.

“Very good.” Yukari says as Ran withdraws, “And, Sanae, are you...”

“I know the whole story, Yukari.” The other shrine maiden says with a dismissive wave, “Now, do you have a plan to fix this incident that you technically started, or are we going to wait until Thor fully digests my gods and Reimu is burned up?”

“The lass is right, Lady Yakumo,” Lazarov concurs, “My men are eager to complete the mission, please give us orders.”

“I will need to equip you all first, particularly you, Sanae. Awyri, clean yourself off, thoroughly. Ming, Ran will debrief you on some things only you should know.”

“What?” You ask in surprise as the nine-tailed fox grabs you by the arm and drags you into the woods by the shrine.

The two of you go in quite deep, past the tents and makeshift workshops set up around the shrine. You spot Rikako and Conner working on a new tank, and you try to greet them, but the wind drowned out your voice before Ran pulled you out of range.

Ran does not stop until the two of you are way clear of earshot of any other living being, next to a deserted, snowy clearing.

“A private pre-mission debrief, for me?” You remark, “I really appreciate it.”

“With all of the chaos you caused, killing swathes of their troops and even taking out members of their original time-displaced elite, it would be irresponsible not to.” Ran says as she lets you go and leans onto a tree, her tails forming an impromptu cushion. “So...a quick rundown on the current situation: Through analysis of the enemy’s communications and their hidden writings, we have determined that the so-called ‘Lux Pacifica’ is a manifestation of an entity, likely alien in origin, with power far beyond any entity we have known on Earth or the Moon, and that had been instrumental in shaping human civilization as we know it.”

“So...God? Cthulhu?”

“Hard to say. Only the Seven know truly what it is. However, I have performed metatextual analysis on the raw data with my mind, and determined that the entity has some discernible traits. It prefers to manifest in the Pacific Ocean like its name hints. It is non-existent for all intents and purposes in our current time and devoid of obvious references in mythology. And it is strongly associated with the qualities of order, knowledge, understanding, to the extent that a regressive convergence of its intentions reveals the intent to have the whole world rendered into a ‘civilized’ state, with every single grain of sand, every blade of grass, behaving in a predictable manner according to human observation.”

“What.”

Ran sighs, “By reading their data VERY carefully, I figured out that they want to destroy all fantasy.”

And now it suddenly makes sense why you saw so many of those Anti-Mysticism nutters on the plane to Japan…

“But, isn’t it a paradox? Would its own intervention not qualify as a violation of that? They’re using what’s basically JRPG heroes as generals!”

“Precisely, which is why I have hypothesized that it is an entity that acts primarily on reaction, and only when it needs to, during to a transition of the world’s state into the opposite of its goals. Or perhaps it sensed the emergence of a hostile entity of similar strength to itself.”

“Well we don’t have anything nearly that powerful,” You stop as Ran stares at you like an idiot and tilts her head upwards at the Dragonball-tier battle happening overhead beyond your reach, “...Right, we do. So apparently the Hakurei Border counts as an entity capable of overcoming folks like Amasterasu?”

“Yes. Unfortunately for us, utilizing the Border in an offensive manner comes at the cost of wiping out all life bound to it. Even its basic self-defense system cannot really function without eating a shrine maiden every time.”

Your blood runs cold, “You mean, Reimu was...”

“You did not think that an entity such as the Border cannot regenerate its white blood cells? By my count, and assuming my memory is intact, we are on the ninth iteration. None of them have died from old age, and seven fell before spell card rules became standard. Last one was burnt out by a particularly overpowered outsider.”

Ran notices you not responding, and continues, “Don’t worry too much, however. It’s mostly the same Reimu. The Border Preserving Fantasy is, ironically, not creative enough to generate new souls.”

A distant memory pops into your head, “Quick question, did you also stick a geas or something on her that whenever anybody asks about her birthdate, it locks her up?”

“Geas, perception filter AND amnesiacs. All fused into a single ritual cast during the creation of the Border,” Ran proudly lists off, “One of my more enduring handiworks if I may say so. It also keeps Lady Yukari busy when we need to cycle.”

“Wait, then how the hell is there a Hakurei bloodline? ZUN stated that there were previous maidens.”

“Same entity, different body, different name. I’ve tuned the amnesiac effect to spread virally, enough that few today recall even what the previous one looked like. Even I do not.”

“B-but that Ochiba guy claims to be her distant cousin! And Keine affirmed it!”

“And Keine is absolutely correct. Ochiba is in fact a distant cousin of her. Of course, that is because the recursive reincarnation is retroactively filtered to become a normal descendant chain with mysteriously vanishing parents, and naturally that illusion will latch on to existent but distant Hakurei relatives in the Outside World. Which is enough to elevate him above the average empowered Outsider.”

“So...where do the new bodies come from?”

Ran leans in even closer, enough that her innate fox-like features become uncomfortable to you, “Empty bodies of children are something that this cold, uncaring planet produces in excess. You would know, wouldn’t you, one who is possessed by death?”

“That sounds...unnecessarily sinister.”

“It means we’re not harming any innocents.” Ran says, looking away into the middle of the clearing. “I am telling you this because you are an outsider, and the recordings we have of your behavior, made primarily by your steelborn companion, indicates that you are the only one who can stomach my next order.”

“Not, you know, the Spetsnaz?”

“Believe it or not, they actually have enough humanity to not do it. Particularly Lazarov. Now, toss some of your anti-divinity magic over there..”

The Hunter’s Module shows naught but grass and snow, but your weak, sputtering Hew blast crackles in the area, and something akin to a glass dome shatters.

You step back. In front of you are eight gravestones, each bearing the same name.

“They’re all...Reimu?” You mutter to yourself.

Ran hands you a large, rusty shovel, “Excavate them, and recover the bones within. You seem to have an unlimited capacity for impurity, so defiling the graves of mikos should be harmless.”

“Uhh...okay.”

The dirt flies outward in large clods, easily giving way beneath your exoskeleton enhanced strength. The graves were rather shallow, which was likely irrelevant given their concealed nature.

The bones came out quite easily, being largely intact and somehow stuck together. You expected shattered pieces, but the sheer amount of...warping they display. “Are these human bones?” You wonder as you pick up a skull that looks like it was stretched out by some force into something more resembling an insect.

“No. The Border does things to its vessel that are simply not survivable over a day.”

“Jesus...” You remove the last of the pieces and put them into a sort of cairn. “Now what do you want me to do with this?”

“You can reanimate the dead, correct? I need you to make them ‘alive’, preferably without a soul.”

“Whoa, whoa whoa.” You raise your hands forward and back off, “Last time I did that I heavily damaged souls by dragging them back from the Higan. Momiji was MAD.”

“Then don’t do that? People said that your abilities revolved around manipulating life force and dead souls, so a possessed golem should be within your expertise. The very reason I’m not handling this personally, or ask Seiga Kaku to do it is because I do not want to drag Reimu into one of them, just the Border.”

You process her logic, “Oh, so you’re trying to ground the connection by sending it into a previously recognized vessel…saving Reimu! I mean, the living one.”

“Correct. And I need your help because I highly doubt any one else...”

A scuffle from a nearby bush catches your attention. After some grumbling, a rather irritated red-headed cat girl creeps out,“Miss Yakumo, I cannot believe that you would consider this outsider first before me!”

Ran blinks, and her face flushes up with anger, “KOMEIJI KOISHI! I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO ENSURE NOBODY FOLLOWED US.”

“Aww...but Orin is family!” A previously unassuming tree stretches her arms out, her wizened grey hair overlapping a youthful face of pure innocence. “I’m super-duper sure she isn’t an enemy!”

Koishi...she looks very, very familiar. Almost as if you’ve seen her somewhere during this week. Oddly enough, as she turns to look at you with a big smile on her face, you don’t feel very threatened like you do with most other youkai. After all, you don’t have much to read.

“I...you know what? You are correct, Miss Komeiji.” Ran’s face reverts immediately back to a stoic expression before you can react. “Apologies, Miss Kaenbyou, would you like to offer your opinion and services on our course of action.”

“First, you!” Orin gets right up in your face before you can reach. “What have you been doing with evil spirits?”

“I dunno, the same as what you’ve been doing?” You were itching to ask Orin about the overlap in your abilities, but never got a chance to. “It’s basically...OW!”

Your forehead aches after Orin flicks you with the force of a kasha behind it, “I, do not wipe souls into blank slates or forcibly enslave them. All of my friends here,” Orin says as several dozen skull-faced will-o-the-wisps hover around her, “Are here of their own free will.”

“Really.”

“Yes. Really. You take me for an amateur like you? Hmph.”

“Kids. Look,” Ran cuts in, “I brought Ming here specifically because we need wiped souls to create effigies out of these corpses. The Border only recognizes comparatively clean slates as legitimate vessels.”

“Wait, are you trying to duplicate more Reimus out of her own dead bodies?”

“No you fool. We’re trying to ground the Border’s connection. Master Yukari has grown quite fond of our Reimu, and would like for this one to live an actual life.”

“Oh, well...shit.” You turn to Orin, “I’m going to have to blank some of your friends, sorry.”

“Miss Yakumo!” The kasha angrily protests, as Koishi looks on while chewing at the ends of her heart...string...thingy. “Surely you would not allow such a desecration to occur!”

“If anyone is to sacrifice themselves to save our shrine maiden, then it might as well be the evil souls who have already died and are pending assignment in Avici. In any case, Rin Kaenbyou, I suggest you choose the most sinful ones, or I will simply have Ming pull them out randomly.” Ran’s face darkens, “We don’t have the luxury to wait. Choose now.”

“You” Orin cowers as the nine-tailed kitsune stares her down, with her master’s sister not quite comprehending what the exchange is entailing, “...Alright...fine...I...”

Hundreds of flaming skull-faces fly by her, and she picks out eight of them that were not flying in formation, “These are the most unrepentant ones, but...completely deleting their personality?”

“I’ll...try to cull the minimum.” You half-heartedly reassure her as you drag the isolated spirits in with a “Call”, before setting them further aflame with a Hew cast. Smoky memories and feelings draft in your direction, rapidly fading into nonsensical fragments.

The gears grind away all that is unnecessary until they are but dust.

You stop as soon as the skullfaces disappear, and the remaining spirits stop moving, their flames frozen as if time has stopped. Without needing to talk, you shepherd them one by one into the mound of dead bones that you’ve stacked them into.

Much like the possessed mounds of flesh you half-hearted created earlier from dead warbeasts, the mound of dead Reimus just kind of wobbles and slurches, like a video game slime.

“Damn amateur. ” Orin curses as she shoves you aside, taking center-stage and beginning what looks like a dance instructor’s routine, “Two to the clavicle, one to the skull, move around, keep up space. Left side, right side, split off to two...”

You watch with amazement as the mound splits apart neatly and systematically into assembled skeletons, and then as the wraiths coat over their possessed frames, forming ghostly outlines that vaguely resemble shrine maidens, even down to their individual clothing styles.

You grimly note that one of them kind of looks like Reimu’s PC-98 outfit.

“There, you have your effigies.” Orin snarls, “I hope it was worth erasing a collective 20,000 years of karma.”

“For these souls, it may not be so bad.” Ran replies while ordering the apparitions with hand gestures, which are dutifully followed. “Komeiji Koishi, how are their internals?”

“Feels bland, and hard. Kind of flabby.” The satori replied while cocking her head from one side to another. “Very bland, actually.”

“Good.” She raises a hand, and the apparitions are suddenly engulfed in violet light, bloating and swelling. Above you, the entire sky dims, just enough to be noticeable.
“Whaa...”

Ran clasps her hands, smiles, and bows, “Uncountable thanks to the two of you. We have bought Hakurei Reimu another eight hours of existence.”

=====

“I swear animal-eared women hate me or something.” You angrily mutter as Orin is screaming alternatively at you, Ran, Koishi, and the world in general as the four of you walk back towards the shrine, the unholy effigies in tow.

“...AND NONE OF YOU CONSIDERED THAT MAYBE IT ISN’T WORTH DESTROYING THOUSANDS OF LIFETIMES JUST FOR EIGHT. HOURS?!” The kasha yells, her pupils literally burning in fury. Ran’s ignoring her with Zen-like calmness, Koishi actually...where the fuck is Koishi…? So Orin’s basically trying to elicit some reaction out of you, who is getting more and more visibly irritated by the moment.

“I don’t care. I don’t care. I don’t care.” You mutter in repetition. “I...gah!”


[ ] God fucking damn it Orin you come up with a better way.
[ ] I really do not care about any of this. I don’t even care if I stripped a million lifetimes worth.
[ ] You’re dealing with a Touhou fan here, Orin. I’d do the same for you without hesitation.

You look around. Neither Sanae nor Awyri seems to have heard anything.

“Come in. Yukari told me to talk to you.”

That’s not the Queen’s voice. Nor anybody you’ve heard before. Going by the pacing and tone, it is very similar to Yukari, Kanako, and the like. It’s probably Yukari fucking with you.

You step forward and open the shrine’s side door. Just an empty kitchen with no sign of the voice, while sounds of the Queen and her entourage can be only be faintly heard from the opposite end.

“Because I exist behind backdoors, ufufu.” A suspiciously Sage-like laugh is heard from behind the shrine’s other door. Sighing, you open the rear entrance, “Damn it Yukari, not...”

Inside this room, several times the size of the shrine exterior, sits an entirely unrecognizable figure in grandiose yellow robes and seated in a wheelchair, attended by two younger looking women who are dressed like they are Life and Bomb pickups in the games with funny shoe-looking heads. Their “version” of the shrine interior is vastly different from the side door, with all the thin paper walls removed and the tatami torn up and replaced with a sort of vast earthen ritual area of Buddhist influence, with tons of incense, candles, and sculptures arranged in esoteric patterns.

The unrecognizable figure is blond, but definitely not Yukari.

“Who and what are you people?”

The two attendants look to speak, but the yellow-robed one silenced them. “You must be that corrupted Outsider, the dragon rider?”

“Frankly that makes me sound way too cool, but yes. Wu...Ming, at your service.”

“Okina Matara, or Matara-jin as my remnant worshippers Outside may know me as. God of back-doors, parts of the earth other gods don’t like, stars, minor problems, the downtrodden castes, the disabled...in general, the small and underlooked parts of existence. Oh, also a Sage of Gensokyo.” Okina puts quite a bit of emphasis on the last part.

“Matarajin? Darn, I think my grandma has a statue of you in our old house’s shrine...wait, why haven’t you been in the games or the manga?”

Okina’s smile droops into a sulking frown, “The Artist said that I was too boring for the games since I didn’t do anything visible for a few decades. Expect me in...two, three years? That man needs to work faster.”

“I don’t think the fans can handle incoming characters at that rate. Honestly. So what are you up to now?”

Okina points up, where a hole has been torn in the roof and a pillar of incense smoke is practically shooting upwards towards the snowy sky like an airy laser beam. “Slowing Asgard from overlaying itself and dooming us all.”

“Slowing? Overlaying?”

“Remember that blueprint you helped Youkai Mountain recover?” Okina’s two assistants bring out the item with unnerving coordination and silence. The blueprint, the one Aya had shown of an “Ultimate Weapon”, remains just as inscrutable.

“Uhh...”

“It is not a blueprint.” Okina inscribes some sort of door on the back of the paper, and abruptly the myriad lines become colored into something coherent, “It is a map of Asgard, his Asgard, located two centuries in the future, along with a mechanism to overlay it onto Gensokyo, starting at Heaven. Once that is accomplished, Thor will gain complete control of the whole stack protected by the Barrier: Heaven, Gensokyo, Japan’s portion of Hell, all subordinate otherworlds and Senkai, as the Lux’s ability to proliferate combines with his status as the sole surviving Aesir of his time and his newfound power of dominion.”

“What...”

“I’m still mostly a forgotten god, and Asgard is manifesting with the strength of an entire pantheon behind it, somehow. Even if I borrow the strength of Gensokyo’s surviving native gods, unabsorbed by Thor’s dominion, I can only delay them until someone stops it for good.”

You just now notice that the sculptures around the ritual area are awfully realistic. And then you start recognizing some familiar hairstyles and hats among them. Hina’s bow, the Aki sisters’ leaf dresses, along with a bunch of unfamiliar but recognizably Touhou figures.


“What if we stop this ‘overlay’...”

“Then Thor will lose the justification he’s using to fuel his powers. Yukari’s sent familiars and eyes all across the areas we can reach, and still found no evidence of the primordial god-like entity known as the Lux, and to make matters even more queer, the vast majority of the Savior personnel are a mix of atheists and Western Abrahamics, meaning that there’s no source of faith for an Nordic god like him. And he can’t possibly be siphoning the pitiful faith from the Thor in our timeline, who is currently blissfully passed out at a concert afterparty in Norway. If you meet Hecate, thank her for spiking his drink.”

=====

Hecatia looks briefly up from her phone at the bar to see an angry woman beat and drag away a white-haired, bearded, suspiciously otherwise young man away from the group of girls that he was attempting to woo with lightning “magic tricks” and tossing him out into the snow.

She checks to her side to ensure that the red-haired giant of a god was still sound asleep over the counter. Hypnos was reliable as usual, unlike his twin. Thor will not be waking up for a while even given his massive drinking capacity. After all, poison was a weakness of his.

Dionysus’s establishments were always well received around Europe. Shame that the other disposed Olympians keep “patronizing” the place without paying and complain about the Christians and Muslims. They really should learn to adapt to new times like she did and find an alternative source of faith for the new age. Or from the New Age, as Hecatia has.

Far more concerning matters were on her mind however. Aside from the massive phantasmal battle occuring on Japan right now, an entity resembling Thanatos had re-emerged within the chaos, never exactly at the focus but always involved, having allied with one of Clear Sky’s newest war machines.

The reports filtering in from her contacts in Clear Sky make less and less sense the further they go on.

Why is a war machine partially born of Tiamat, a goddess of life, aligning herself with him?

Why is Thanatos willingly possessing the body of a nascent serial killer, when he was never an authority over violent death and hated his job? Did the Chinese do something irrevocable to his soul when they reincarnated him in the late 19th century? Hecatia would demand answers from those involved but most of those that could answer are either still catatonic or have erased their own memories.

And more chillingly, why is Thanatos actually performing medical magic beyond the illusions he usually used as part of his disguise, and does he know what he is actually doing?

Her phone rings, and a brief check confirms that her associate has already arrived. Hecatia gets up and leaves through the doorway, disappearing into another word.

She has a meeting in Hell.

=====

You notice a discrepancy, “Don’t we have more than enough firepower within the Border to annihilate that thing?”

Okina shakes her head, “Divine airburst shells are being fired from the Saviors’ main facility in the western ruins on a regular basis. The shells lock out anybody, except for those three fighting above it, from reaching over 2000 meters.”

“Why?”

“As long it is live, we cannot do anything to help the Hakurei lynchpin since the only empowered outsider alive who can breach it is currently up there. Side note:” Okina’s face drops, “I am most definitely going to have a word with Yukari on our treatment of empowered outsiders in the future, as our cullings have squandered a potential asset that would have been useful here. Everybody from Gensokyo, and many Outsider warriors, are pushing towards it right now, but without the ability to exploit our common flight advantage and the fact that blessed ammunition shreds through human just as well as it burns youkai, we’ve been stalemating.”

You hold up a finger, “Let me guess, ‘We’re all counting on you’ to make the breach.”

“Your dragon, to be specific. I trust that you will relay these words to her, and allow her to lead the way onto the battlefield.”

“And you or Yukari couldn’t have told her yourself?”

A long, somewhat uncomfortable silence ensues as Okina slowly becomes visibly frustrated, until you finally notice that her assistants have been fumbling around behind you for sometime while she was talking.

“We wanted you to perform your duties as Iron Wing’s squire, even in your condition.” She finally replies.


“I can perform my duties atop her back, as I always did? What are you talking about?”

“Wu Ming, you are missing an arm, a leg, and the status of a living being. How can you keep fighting? What do you have left?”

“My other limbs and my fat stores, I guess.” You reply as you joking pull on your stomach flab, and fail due to them having been consumed for fuel a long time ago. “As long as I can stay strapped on, I can heal, and as long as she’s killing, I can regenerate. Besides, I do not think Awyri trusts anyone else enough.”

“And what if things go wrong?” Okina says, her voice more sad than angry despite her frustration, “I had installed backdoors to my domain of life energy on the backs of everybody involved, enough so that I can do no more but sit here and maintain the ritual to ward off Asgard...except for you...the one who we are relying on to be our primary assault weapon’s support, because I cannot establish such a connection to you.”

“So you are the Gaia equivalent for Gensokyo?”

“Was, am, and will be. Unfortunately, I cannot help those who are both a possessed corpse and spiritually deadened in a way that makes Lady Saigyouji seem like a beacon of life.”

“Yuyuko’s pretty lively for a ghost in the games...I never got to meet her yet though.”

“Look.” Okina waves away her assistants. “Cutting to my main point. I can’t help you. And I want to have a connected human up there with iron Wing, since they benefit the most from a life infusion and can resolve issues when the unexpected happens.”

“Help Sanae then.” You start getting annoyed with the new goddess repeating herself, “And have her tag along. Awyri’s used to her.”

“I was already going to do that…Please...just don’t go up there with her any more. Despite Yukari’s acceptance of you as her companion, none of us Sages know exactly what you are doing with her...your corruption. Let Sanae take your position for this one.”

“Alright, if you don’t have anything else to inform, I’ll go tell Sanae to come over. Awyrgan’s probably going to need to take off soon.”

Okina stares at you strangely, as if you’ve just said a non-sequitur. “Are you even listening? Yukari’s not too concerned because she’s a terrible monstrosity and the British Queen is too old to notice, but everyone else can vaguely sense what you did even if they can’t see or choose to ignore their common sense. If you go, no sane person is going to go far to help out of concern of the safety of their souls if I can’t install a backdoor on you as a safety measure.”

“Going. Stop staring at me please.”

”Are you ignoring me or just denying what you’ve done? Don’t you care about Iron Wing? About Awyrgan? Are you doing this because you know you can do to me what you did to the Chinese gods a century ago? THANATOS?”

“Bye Okina.”

You close the shrine doors and mutter “What a weird god.” to yourself. Walking on back, you tell Sanae about the weird god and ask her to pay a visit.

“Matara-jin? She’s a Sage?” Sanae asks, befuddled, “Even the tengu do not mention her, wow, she must be really unpopular.”

“Well, she wants to give you life insurance or something before going into the field, so go pay her a visit. Oi, Awyri!” You wave over to the dragon, who’s still tinkering with Clarent, having fashioned some sort of speargun around it.

While Yukari is standing there, waiting for you with the unchanging smug grin. “Ready?”

“Your fellow Sage was acting weird.”

“Don’t mind Okina too much. She always overthinks things. After all, she of all gods should understand that even if you ruin this Iron Wing, we could always just make another. The specimen dies, the project lives on.”

“Didn’t catch that, what did you just say?”

“Nevermind that. Iron Wing, are you prepared?”

“Aye...” She replies as she slots the Clarent-gun into her body. “I art...ready.”

The improvised “runway” is actually a series of train tracks fused together into a long ramp. You see multiple fighter jets around it. Eurofighter Typhoons, specifically, one of the few modern fighter aircrafts that Britain can claim primary creation over, seemingly parked at random around the ramp in violation of most aviation laws.

You are taken aback, however, when the lower ends of their nose distends into open, toothy maws, and begins crawling towards Awyrgan on their (clawed, warped) flight gear. Electronically distorted snarling can be heard from them as the “jets” distend off bits of their exterior hull, revealing that the internal mechanisms of the Typhoons have been assimilated with the metallic fiber patterns you saw inside Awyrgan’s wounds.

Unfazed, even as you instinctively take a few steps back to seek cover behind her leg, Awyrgan merely stretches her head forward, and roars her own distorted, roar more reminiscent of a death screech than a proudful boast.

The Typhoons cringe at the noise, and meekly scamper back while making some sort of whimpering sound, or at least that’s what you think it is through all the electronic distortion.

“Bronze Wings.” Yukari says as she comes up behind you, followed by a group of fighter pilots dressed in a weird combination of the typical jumpsuit + helmet with the assorted fancy decorations of a British dress uniform over the top. “The data that Iron Wing’s incubation process imparted to the United Kingdom was enough for their military to attempt splicing her metallic DNA and Tiamat forge onto their extent native aircraft. Improvised, simple-minded brutes nowhere near a real dragon, and awfully hard to control, but these are the toughest fliers we can spare, as oni are terribly vulnerable to their base holy weaponry.”

“And they only respond well to the influence of Saint George,” The Queen interjects over the radio, “Unfortunately, most knighthoods of Saint George’s name are devoted to civilians with no military or flying experience and even across the pond it was reserved for groundbound officers. These brave men you see taming the pseudodragons are the Military Knights of the Order of the Garter, the sole source of qualified dragon riders. They’re not young men anymore, so treat them nicely, would you dear?”

“Yeah, your Majesty, I’ve noticed.” You respond, grimly noting that some of the pilots are using exoskeletons of kappa-ish design and even canes as they approach and calm down the Bronze Wing Typhoons. “Though really, even I must ask why you’re going as far as to commit the lives of your own pensioner knights to this conflict of dubious political and moral value.”

“Oh no, they are all volunteers. Most of them do not have long to live and wish to go out on dragonback. In fact, the Chapter Captain said that one of them was just a civilian Bachelor Knight in similar circumstances who got along with the Bronze Wings.”

You look closely, and take note of one somewhat familiar-looking individual who’s calmly stroking his own Bronze Wing’s cockpit while examining Awyrgan with a small smile, “Is it the gentleman that’s carrying his own forged sword?”

“Was it him? Explains why he canceled that convention meeting. Ah, enough talk, I shall allow your co-captain to take over from here.”

“Wait, co-captain?” You glance over at Yukari’s wide grinning face in a panic, “Your Majesty, you cannot be trusting some Chinese-American zombie with like a week of informal experience to be taking command...over anything! Last time I tried that somebody almost died!”

Almost? Did you really believe that you saved her? Saved them?

The Queen’s Voice cuts out, and a gruff, elderly voice cuts in, “Colonel Joshua Bristow, RAF, reporting in. Commanding what Headquarters Air Command termed Merlin Squadron, but I’m going to be calling it Wizard Squadron because Merlin was a shite wizard who failed the kingdom. We will be supporting Mordred and dictating tactics, but Iron Wing must take the lead. You, Wu Ming, can just follow orders. Over”

“Happy to obey, but I’ll forget your name soon since you’re not a Touhou.” You reactively snark back at the man who’s using the radio despite standing just 30 feet away from you. He simply shakes his head.

Yet another different voice cuts in this time, a familiar one this time, “Hey, Ming. It’s been a long time.”

“Hey Miss Toramaru.” You’d recognize that tiger’s voice from anywhere. She’s pretty scary.

“Call me General Bishamonten, like the old days...though Yukari’s insisting on calling me ‘Executive Officer’. I am your command and control system for this operation, Awyrgan and Wu Ming. Awyrgan, can you report? You have been awfully silent.”

“I’m...I’m fine.”

Something feels off. “Awyri? Is there anything wrong?”

“No…I am running on borrowed time...just fine. Merely some air time to clear the mind is needed.”

“You have to take off in a three minute window anyway, so get ready. Our forces are being pushed back on all fronts, and a good, heavy diversion is essential. I’m in the field right now so I’ll have Wizard 1 handle your immediate tactics.”

You climb up and take your seat on her back. Your fishing line once again extends and attaches to Awyrgan’s nape, fusing with her scales as if it were a part of her.

No longer are restraints needed to secure your position on her though, as the dragon scale armor merges with her hide into a seamless whole that keeps you locked on yet free in movement.

Wait, how did that happen. Don’t lie, you know how

“Hew link online.” You whisper and cast, allowing the maggots to entwine around the makeshift tether. It doesn’t fail this time, likely since you’re inside Gensokyo again. Awyrgan snarls and arches her head back as the gentle blue wisps of plasma wafting from her pores become the pink light of gaseous lifespan.

“It tickles. At best.”

“Good, that means it’s working. As long as I have energy, I will make sure you won’t die.”

“Oha...ha...very...humorous...Looks like we are ready.” The dragon clears her throat with a crackling sound, indicating that the radio she ate came to life, “Callsign Mordred, Dragon Knight of Wales, ready to deploy on your word, high marshal. Human Squire attachment stable and operational. Awaiting decision, sire.”

“Affirmative. Commence Operation Jormungandr. Ser Mordred, you are clear to take flight and engage hostiles at will. Our troops will rally and redeploy based on your choice of deployment, as your capabilities are best judged by your own at this time. Strategy will be determined at run-time.“

“Wizard Squadron will cover you in this regard.” Bristow chimes in, “Our Bronze Wings are not as durable as you and none of us mere humans have the same powers as your squire. But the point of attack is under your honorable choice.”

“Mine choice? Our choice....My friend...your choice...Consider the open frequency and telepathic broadcasts, and let us decide.”

[{ }] Break the Ice and Silence the Thunder - Those aerial-denial systems and their ground base must be silenced first before we move on to the big guy. Charge their lines!
-[{ }] “Is anyone listening? Morichika here with a crashed witch at these coordinates...”
-[{ }] “Hold the garden! Rally around my blade and spirit! Yuuka! Don’t...”
-[{ }] “Repeat: Scarlet Devil Mansion under UV Ray Emitter suppression. Our young mistresses cannot aid...”
-[{ }] “Eientei’s willing to join the fight. But we’ll need a distraction to not reveal our location.”

[{ }] Ride the Rainbow and Quench the Lightning - We’re definitely durable enough to get past the aerial bombardment and should stand a better chance with our innate counter towards Thor’s divine bullshittery. Destroy his body and we’ll figure out the rest later.

[{ }] Ride the Rainbow and Snuff Out the Starlight - His Asgard is dependent on an energy supply independent of Thor himself. Ride past the bombardment and destroy his core while the Hakureis distract him.

[{ }]Corruption at 60%. Thanatos...you and I...let us fly...we shall drown...in the depths of the Styx...together...

[x] “The false sun of the Saviors must be quenched. The young Scarlet lady and her eyes of destruction are needed to breach their tyrannical fortress.”



Location: Clear Sky Command Bunker, Beneath the Hakurei Shrine

Time: 12 hours until collapse of current Hakurei Iteration



Bishamonten doesn’t usually support multiple heads, but with the amount of faith you are channeling right now, through the entire Clear Sky Corporation, you can support twenty. You have to support twenty. Every single one of them is processing a different combat zone and barking out commands for separate divisions through the Kappa-made Command Kaleidoscope. Mononobe no Futo is running her divinations on the floor below you with Nazrin’s help, and spits out new enemy positions in a steady stream of data.

The two of you haven’t had any respite this day. Once the sounds of war spread from Youkai Mountain and woke everyone up, and Yukari made her reappearance with entire divisions of her own Outside World soldiers and war machines, you knew just how serious this situation is if the masquerade between the two worlds just got torn down in such a way.

An aide deposits a cauldron of tea and a pile of vegetarian roasts on your side, which two of your heads consume without breaking their eyes from their screens.

You cannot afford to be sentimental. You ignore the fact that the ever-growing casualty list is including people you knew. You ignore the fact that Myouren Temple is in the danger zone of an a artillery strike you just ordered. You ignore the fact that some folks have been resorting to blatantly immoral techniques to claw an advantage.

“Bronze Wings, regroup and escort Mordred. Division Lotus, begin assault on SDM from the approach paths I have marked on your maps. Tengu Group Sumiko, avoid that hill! Companion archery has been confirmed in the zone. Second wave of trains ETA twenty minutes...”

====



Location: West End of the Misty Lake, Gensokyo



Divine emanations and air pressure from the Vijaya shells above merely glance off Awyrgan’s plasma sheath even as she skims the sky right at their danger altitude. Her subsumed companion’s abilities augmenting and shoring up the already impressive defense of the dragon.

Awyrgan had stopped pretended that he is anything but a puppet. Thanatos moves like a turret, inhumanly twisting and turning to shoot down and block the missiles that make it past the dragon’s countermeasures. It would be funny if it wasn’t so deep in the uncanny valley.

You simply stay quiet and channel Divine Wind Barrier. The stench of primordial waters from the shell that was once Ming is all the reason you need to avoid provoking Awyrgan, who is apparently some sort of Evangelion-tier entity. Oh right, she actually is using a fragment of Tiamat to fuel her creation engine, and apparently her current preferred spell repertoire seeing her incessant incantation of what sounds vaguely like an unknown Near East language.

The Bronze Wings buzz about the airspace, snarling and lashing out at the incoming attacks that they are capable of intercepting. Through the comms, you can hear the old men attending to these beasts groan and gasp at the toll of the effort, but no complaints, none at all. Ecstatical laughs are heard through the struggle, and one of them is even composing a poem through the strain: “In a garden east, past a wall of dreams...hmm...Where dragons fly, in the octarine gleams...”

Through the blizzard, you can see the device illuminating the Scarlet Devil Mansion on the other side of the lake. A massive monolith, projecting a massive beam of light that can be seen through the snow. You then realize that it is only visible because the energy is substantial enough to actually burn through the snow, and that the visible light is just the scattering from the intense UV it is emitting.

Opposing it is a substantial magical barrier of mist covering the mansion, layered seven times and each with a different magic.

“Entering SDM Engagement Domain. Commencing Operation D....Watch out! Enemy density high, and the UV Projector can defend itself with its rays!”

“Enemy density irrelevant.” The dragon replies back. “Requesting location of allied positions. Begin saturation bombardment of non-marked areas in one minute.”

“Saturation bombardment? Your specifications lack the facilities for that, and Utsuho has been spent. What are you...’?”

Awyrgan suddenly lurches, and dives straight for the lake, ignoring your loud screams of protest. She skims the frozen surface, shattering the ice with her maw held open, ingesting water until she completely crossed the length of the lake, and flies up again.

“Locations marked. Mordred, can you at least tell me what you are doing?”

Flying over the Savior positions, drawing fire all the while, Awyrgan begins exuding a thick metallic slime from her underbelly and wings, that fall like large droplets of syrup onto the enemy positions below.

“Abzu, abzu, the primordial sea...release our scions...set them free...”

====



Location: West end of the Misty Lake, ground theatre of operations

Time: 12 hours until collapse of current Hakurei Iteration



As most of the participants expected, the Clear Sky strike group was unable to penetrate the Savior defense line on foot. Pinned down by constant suppressive fire from their massive fortress, they pulled back to behind some hills in the forest.

“Kokoro,” Sylla complains, “I told you already, it doesn’t work on these enemies. They’ve got some sort of mindshield on.”

Ignoring her scion, Kokoro continues with the cast, exposed as she was on that rock...“Blank Faced Dance: Heart of...GAH!”...right before her entire arm, attached to the shoulder, is blown off by a silver round.

“And just because you are willing to and can replace your masks in Gensokyo doesn’t mean you can just Ship of Theseus yourself to victory, sir!” Sylla grumbles as a youkai medic rushes over with a dose of adrenaline.

“Your bullets are not performing very well either.” Kokoro snaps back as she discards a broken mask of disposable clay from her sleeves, and sprouts a new arm. “And what are the trains going to do when they arrive? Are they any more proof against their charged shots?”

The wrecked BMP-2 in front of them, toppled onto its side from the sheer force of some of the Savior sabot rounds (Ran and Shou speculated them to be railguns beyond modern technological capabilities), lies as the testimony for her account. Luckily, there were no passengers. Unluckily, it wasn’t self-driving, and the driver and gunner are slumped over in their positions, motionless and cold.

“Yukari should get something out. Ahmed, you see anyone peeking out?” Sylla calls to his spotter, who was surveying the enemy position with a magically suspended periscope.

“Nope...nothing...wait a second.” The Iraqi twitches the contraption, expanding the disk of water that served as the lens. “One of their divine shields are flickering, maybe you can get a Hate shot off?”

“Suppressing fire over here’s stopped.” One of the tengu officers shouts from the other end of the hillside. “Something’s going on.”

A large shadow blotting out the snow makes everyone look up at the dragon passing overhead briefly, before it flips and passes back over the Savior positions, dispensing large droplets of liquid over them.

“...Is that thing literally shitting on the enemy?” Ahmed remarks.

The suppression over their position ceases also, and Sylla pokes his SV-98’s scope out over the top of the hill. Multiple divine shields are flickering now, and zooming in further reveals that the Saviors within are engaged in close-quarters combat against an entity moving too fast to be clearly seen at this distance.

Then, a divine shield goes completely offline, and Sylla notes with some trepidation that there is nobody behind it, despite it having fired at the Clear Sky contingent for quite a while.

The radio crackles to life, “Group Sumiko.” Shou calls out, “Advance to the next waypoint on your map and eliminate all resistance. Mordred is suppressing your immediate threats.”

“Eh? Affirmative. Cover me!” Not entirely confident in the god of war’s orders, Sylla shoulders his rifle, his hybrid status contributing the strength to do so, and goes first over the top as the one statistically least likely to die from oncoming fire due to the same hybrid status.

Running towards the boulder, Sylla struggles to do so through the increasingly thick snowfall, and resorts to rolling through the last couple of meters. The suppressive fire from his allies behind him seems to have worked, and he wasn’t shot at.

At all. There’s sound of railgun and convention fire coming from the other side, but no shots are coming anywhere near Sylla’s direction.

“That’s odd...I hate it when it’s odd.” He mutters as he spits out some of his leaking emotions.

“See anything there, menreiki?” A tengu soldier asks, referring him by his adopted species.

“I...” Another divine shield installation flickers, and Sylla immediately switches over to the sniper rifle for its scope, having neglected to pick up any binoculars. “No, nothing, it’s like they’re just gone...huh?”

From the first empty position, a massive horned golden snake suddenly shoots out of the snow, and stares straight at Sylla who lets out a very unmanly shriek of terror.

“Novel Signature spotted. Database match. Confirmed entity as a replica of Musmahhu, Exalted Serpent of the Babylonian region.”

“If it’s a new signature, how is it in the database?” Sylla shouts at Shou over the radio, “Is it friendly or not?”

“It’s a spawn of Tiamat, of course it’s on our side. Just don’t get near it, it’s 60% poisonous heavy metal by mass.”

“Right, our dragon friend up there is part-Tiamat...” Sylla watches as the dragon makes another bombing pass, dropping slime that forms into monsters as they hit the ground. As with the dragon herself, the enemy’s holy weapons do little against such anti-divine constructs.

But...wasn’t it the so-called Null-Fiend that provided that measure? Surely he wasn’t integrated into the creation engine.

The beasts and the Saviors are entangled in melee, enough that Sylla doesn’t have a good opening for potshots even if they are completely suppressed for all intents and purposes. The snake, for instance, is swinging around a torn steel beam with its...arms?

Sylla continues forward, crawling in the snow while the rest of the soldiers follow some distance behind. He sees clearly that the monsters...the ones that survive anyway, slowly getting into a bipedal stance even as they fight and die against the knights.

“Gensokyification...it’s that dramatic?”

“Negatory, unstable constructs simply react much faster. They have no souls, and thus are patterning themselves off their progenitor.” A new voice comes through the comms.

“Uh, who is this?” Sylla grumbles as he taps at his comms in reflex. Clear Sky is really lenient on their comms policy for some reason.

“Patchouli Knowledge, mage of the Scarlet Devil Mansion. We have been waiting for your assistance in repelling these invaders.”

Sylla looks over, across the lake at the massive barrier fending off the sunlight weapon, “So, I suppose some additional artillery support is out of the question?”

“Not until that infernal contraption they are bombarding us with is taken out. Our mistresses are not one for tanning, if you know what I mean.”

Sylla stares upwards at the ultraviolet projector, a monolith that dwarfs almost everything else man-made in this Meiji-era sealed garden. Even if Awyrgan is dropping waves of Babylonian monsters against the outer defenses, how are they going to topple that thing? Especially if their gunners decide to turn the ultraviolet beam against the Clear Sky ground forces. Vampire or not, that much energy is going to roast anything it comes into contact with alive.

A sudden screech catches his attention. He looks and sees the golden snake from earlier convulse and spasm, before collapsing and disintegrating into watery slime. The other monsters from the first wave that survived thus far follow in its fate, right as Awyrgan swings back around to replace them with another bombing pass.

They only lived for a minute.

“Proceed with the mission, Group Sumiko. You can’t rely on Mordred for everything.” Shou cuts back in, “We need you to clear out the mundane anti-air defenses so Mordred only has to deal with the ultraviolet weaponry. Engage in small groups to make the best use of the diversion she had provided you with.”

“Roger.” Sylla removes his own mask, and sends it floating outwards. An attractive feature glowing with hate, it nonetheless attracts no fire.

“Kokoro, Seija, let’s take point.”

“Got it.”

“No. Screw you.”

Sylla chuckles at the amanojaku’s usual behavior and snaps open the rear end of his rifle, revealing the leaf speartip concealed within. No longer a stock SV-98, Ran had seen fit to modify it to sustain regular melee combat. A true gunblade, albeit not a very aesthetic one.

Breathing in, and seeing his two compatriots move in behind him, Sylla begins his sprint, following the golden serpent towards the retreating enemies and their positions. Leaping into an emplacement, he point blank blasts a surviving Savior before they could react and jams his blade into the internals of the AA gun. With a grunt, he rips out the electronics within, disabling the installment for good.

He notes that the wires and parts torn out resemble nothing like what he’s worked with before in the Kenyan Army or the UN Peacekeepers. Or even Clear Sky, for that matter.

A machine gun ahead of him roars, sending bullets wheezing past, causing him to duck behind the sandbags. Are they actually firing at him rather than the Tiamat-spawned monstrosities? How disciplined. Sylla thinks as he spits out a glob of hatred into his rifle’s chamber.

Aiming it straight upwards, he pulls the trigger. The glob shoots out, spins in the air for a few moments, before leaning forwards and accelerating towards the enemy.

“Hate begets hate.” He mutters, as the machine gun falls silent, its wielder paralyzed with emotion by the black blob that had glued to her heart.

Sylla vaults over the sandbags, signals the others to advance with his free hand, and continues forwards.

To his left, Seija is pushing forward at a reckless pace for a youkai, suppressing enemies with her machine gun and any incoming attacks that she reverses towards their owners, cackling with glee as she does so.

To the right, his sire has deployed an entire array of masks around her, disorienting any gunners aiming her way with a schizophrenic kaleidoscope of emotions befitting of an elder menreiki, though as usual, Kokoro isn’t using any weapon but for her naginata.

And finally at himself, through the eyes of the Mask of Hatred fused to his soul and floating behind him. What was once a backline lieutenant now a frontline warrior, dripping with caustic emotions.

He roars against the blizzard, and charges forth, stepping through the slurry of disintegrating corpses left by Awyrgan’s spawn and following right behind them...

...Before swiftly jumping back to his original position as the monsters to his front are pulverized by explosions. Sylla sighs and pulls out his radio, watching Seija screaming in agony while crawling back towards him on stumps, her legs caught in the artillery blasts.


Despite being youkai, they were still infantry. In the modern world that is currently seeping into Gensokyo, that means they need air support. He reaches out with his gun to pull the injured amanojaku back while shouting into his radio.

====



Location: West end of the Misty Lake, aerial theatre of operations

Time: 12 hours until collapse of current Hakurei Iteration



“Reporting steady progress.” You call out into the radio while Awyrgan busies herself with the bombardment, switching between plasma-filled scale bombs and her short-lived Tiamat spawn, “Enemy ground forces cannot sustain our output for much longer, but we can sustain theirs.”

You glance backwards, at Kazami Yuuka who is maintaining structural flower beds on the holes and craters of Awyrgan’s hide. Even after completely absorbing Ming and enshrouded by your Divine Winds, her regeneration is still struggling to catch up with the ever increasing density of anti-air fire being thrown at her.

“The flowers flourish just like in rich soil.” Yuuka remarks in her depressed tone as the armored flowers grow and disintegrate in the cycle of ablative armor, “Must be the Tiamat inside of her.”

Reinforced by magic, the plants do in fact dampen the holy auras of the Savior’s weaponry, allowing the now context-free bullets to glance harmlessly off of the dragon.

“Hey, Mordred, you reading me?” A strangely silky male African voice comes in through the radio. Some muffled screaming can be heard in the background, which is oddly satisfying to you for some reason you can’t quite tell.

“Affirmative.”

“Manager Adin Sylla of Division Lotus. Your carpet bombardment’s good at suppressing their outer positions, but we’re still taking extreme amounts of direct artillery fire.”

Awyrgan dives down, and makes a sweeping pass over the innermost positions around the tower. To your surprise, the tower itself retaliates, with muzzle flashes and spellcasts visible on the obelisk’s side through the snow.

“The tower itself has gunports on the walls! It serves as a flak tower!” You yell into the radio while shifting your wind barriers to the fore. Recognizing this as well, Awyrgan sheathes herself in plasma and charges at the walls, breathing out a thick gout of star-stuff before jumping back with a barrage of cursed blades, and finishes with a 155mm shot right as you gasp and lose focus at the sheer amount of projectiles intercepted by your barrier, and dives down in an evasive pattern,

And...nothing. The guns and their operators had retreated behind retracting covers before the dragon can reach them, and though the attack left marks, it was not anywhere close to a breach.

Shou’s commands ring out again, “Division Lotus! Use your deployable cover devices and stay there! All units! Enemy UV Projector has been confirmed via Mordred’s sample to be a sapling of Yggdrasil! No known external vulnerability!”

“Thor really is throwing the entire Nordic mythos at us, isn’t he?” Yuuka remarks as she notes the woody look of the material exposed by Awyrgan’s damage. “What a waste, if I had a seed of Yggdrasil, the Garden of the Sun could have covered the sky.”

“That would be awesome!” You excitedly yell, even as you struggle to reweave your winds, “Like Gensokyo is really missing the skyscraper sized tree every fantasy landscape needs. We are currently way too close to a normal Japanese countryside right now.”

“Mordred unit.” The radio jerks you back into the current situation. “The ultraviolet lens should still be vulnerable. Follow the B plan and assault the top.”

“Affirmative.” Strange, Awyrgan has been mostly ignoring you and Yuuka and simply following orders. Is that being professional? You weren’t really actually involved in an actual military, even compared to the puppet to your front.

Dodging the firing angles of the heavier anti-air weaponry, and with Yuuka and Thanatos blasting any enemy aircraft slipping past the Bronze Wings, Awyrgan succeeds in flying all the way to the top through a complex path.

The beam of light is dangerously close now, but thankfully it has not moved from suppressing the Scarlet Devil Mansion. Its mechanism seems to be a giant white crystal of clearly magical nature, though supported by a mass of machinery around its base.

“Huh?” You notice something, or rather, the lack of something. The constant sound of enemy gunfire has ceased up here, despite the UV Projector’s origin being clearly exposed. No turrets? Nothing?

And then you catch sight of the golden glint near the lens. The wind stops blowing, just briefly, for a shouted sentence to ring out.

“Invocation of Dominion: Replica of Camlann!”

The dragon freezes as the spell washes over her, and flies straight for the roof area around the Projector. “Awyrgan! That’s too reckless!” You yell out, before yelling more incoherent words as stone pillars shoot out from the tower, aiming to knock the riders off of the dragon. Which obviously includes you.

You dodge them on instinct (the attacks seem oddly familiar to you).Yuuka facetanks them without much issue and manages to stay on, while Thanatos does not succeed in doing either, instead ending up dangled under the dragon via the wires and tubes inserted into his body.

You wince as Awyrgan lands without consideration for her puppet, sending Thanatos plowing into the ground in a spine-cracking position. Frayed wire and broken steel bars visible, the puppet nonetheless still gets back up, silent. The comm link in your ear hisses with soft static. You’re being jammed.

“Awyrgan!” You land and shout, as the dragon simply stands still on the rooftop, “What are you doing?”

“Her role.” A new voice proclaims.

Behind the machinery, a knight emerges. No helmet, a tattered cape, and a handsome, chiseled face below a flowing mane of pale blue hair. He’s pretty cute, you have to admit. Better looking than the vast majority of outsiders that tried to get a date with you.

In his hand, a shining silver lance, embellished with jewels and engraved with delicate Britannic runes. Runes of the same appearance as the sword, Clarent, that Awyrgan is wielding with her maw right now. His other arm, gripping a shield, appears to be a prosthetic limb of platinum.

Didn’t Awyrgan tell you that she bit off the arm of a knight called Deimos?

“Thor foresaw your association and alliance with Britain, foul dragon.” The knight says as he raises the lance. “Good thing for us, we have the exact answer to your mantling of Mordred’s name.”

The snowfall shifts, and you are briefly blinded by the flurry of white in your eye. When you can see again, you gasp.

You are no longer on the tower.

In front of you is a field of the dead. Armored corpses of chainmail cover the field along their horses and weapons, and the few spots of grass visible are glistening with crimson. Above, the dusk sky holds a sickly looking sun. You are quite glad to be wearing boots instead of your casual open-toed shoes as you carefully step over the bodies to where Yuuka is standing.

“Dog roses and cornflowers.” Yuuka comments, bending over to look at the bloodstained vegetation, “This place is, or is a facsimile of, Britain.”

You look over to the knight and the dragon. Thanatos is slumped over near Awyrgan, a puppet with his strings cut, and Awyrgan is noticeably not opening fire at the knight for some reason.

“By the power of dominion vested upon me by the Protector of Mankind. I, Sir Deimos, playing the role of King Arthur granted via Rhongomiant, command thee, Mordred, to complete our last duel at Camlann, honorably.”

Awyrgan does not even make the slightest sign of resistance as she dutifully shifts down to her humanoid form and draws the sword. None of her modern weapons or the Ohabaris. Just Clarent.

“The power of dominion sounds about as vague and unfair as Yukari’s power to control borders.” You frustratedly grumble to Yuuka, “Dream bubble world, absolute mind control...”

You angrily fling several charms at him, only to see them pass right through.

“The other knights at Camlann merely stood and watched the duel, too spent to do anything else.” Awyrgan mumbles, as if sleeptalking.

“...Straight up physical nullification barrier. ”

Deimos flashes a handsome smile as he waves at you, “Your intervention will not work here, misguided ones. The power of dominion allows us blessed by the Lux to take control of the world and set it back onto the correct path. We are only humble servants of the will of mankind in the end, but as long as we act within that Divine Will, nothing can stop it.”

He’s not lying. You cannot even approach the duel, being stopped ten meters away by an invisible wall. You try to dispel the barrier, but find no hint of magic.

Somehow, the whole thing is rendered without an explicit spell.

You and Yuuka can only watch as Deimos easily overpowers Awyrgan with a rapid series of lance strikes, while she can only feebly defend herself with unpracticed sword moves from the severe handicap of having to be Mordred, the human.

“I don’t think Arthur did this well in the original version.” You comment, each blow and stab onto Awyrgan’s hide making you tense up. Arthur and Mordred both died at the conclusion of the duel, so if Deimos is truthful that the power of dominion draws directly from the world’s zeitgeist, then…

You scream, and Yuuka clasps her mouth in shock, as Deimos bats Clarent wide aside, and impales Awyrgan straight through her chest with Rhongomiant, skewering her straight through with the spear tip emerging well past her back, like in the painting.

Not entirely dead, she raises Clarent to strike a blow on Deimos’s head, in the pose of the famous painting Le Morte, when the landscape abruptly vanishes. You fall forward onto your hands as the invisible barrier disintegrates.

“Bane of Dragons: Ascalon!”

You look up just in time to see Deimos swiftly revealing a second weapon beneath his cape and stabbing Awyrgan through the neck. Awyrgan’s Clarent strikes a stone pillar which erupted from the ground in front of Deimos, and bounces her weakened arm away.

The dragon girl stumbles backwards, Clarent dropping from limp fingers. She shifts back to her full draconic form, and tries to breathe fire, but only manages to gurgle up blood and oil. She tries to deploy an array of cannon, but something in her internal structure crackles, and the weapons explode.

Awyrgan thrashes a few more times, and before you can help her, some larger explosions erupt inside of her, and she collapses, unmoving.

“WHAT THE HELL?” You angrily shout as you and Yuuka rush over to the fallen dragon, “HOW’S THAT A RE-ENACTMENT OF CAMLANN?”

“A re-enactment cut off seconds before the end, is still a re-enactment.” Deimos plainly states as he wipes Awyrgan’s blood off of Ascalon, clearly viewing neither you nor Yuuka as a threat. “All within the lawful and moral will of mankind, as short-sighted as it can be sometimes.”

“You know VERY WELL that’s not the case. How?!”

“Hey, I am not the one supporting the extinction of mankind, Sanae Kochiya.” He replies as he points the sword at you, “Simply cutting humanity’s attention span on a reproduced scene pales in comparison to what you lot are doing to the world as we speak.”

You check for any signs of life on the dragon, and find none. Yuuka’s eye twitches as she confirms this fact herself, “This idiot dragon you just killed was a fine gatekeeper for my garden, knight.” She quietly states with dripping venom, “I expect some compensation for this.”

“Your idle threats are of no value to a hero of mankind, youkai.” Deimos says as Yuuka grasps for her parasol, “Why not just ask your Tyrant to grow you a new one? Arcturus apparently killed a copy in Tokyo, so it’s a replaceable article.”

You are filled with a sudden sense of confusion at that statement, and apparently even Yuuka was taken aback at such a Ming-like statement coming from the other side. “Are...living beings just fungible to you?”

“Beasts and monsters are not people, and that is quite rich coming from the likes of you.” Deimos says, rewriting your question in his chuckled answer, “A man-eater, complaining that I do not understand the value of life.”

“Humans do generally have a callous disregard for the lives of those not themselves.” Yuuka replies, her free hand glimmering with the faint colorful traces of a readied spell.

“And how did Nashira Pyrus even get to like you, Deimos? She loves animals, well, large carnivores.” You insincerely ask, recalling your interactions with the prisoner at Eientei. Her, Castor, and Thor were what you’d expect Companions to act like. This guy is...more of an actual religious knight than the caped heroes the other ones behave like.

“Nashira?” Deimos’s eyes narrow, and his perfect composure shows a crack, “What sort of information did you torture out of her that led to you knowing about me and her?”

“Torture? You actually believed the bullshit Ming spewed out when he was somewhat more alive?” You say, kicking his corpse that’s lying on the ground. “We would never do that!”

“So she did not follow my orders to not reveal any information, regardless of their seeming irrelevance. Pity. Her brother must have misled her again.” Deimos sighs. “Since you already know, I shall answer you. Castor may be a decent fighter, but he does not understand the will of humanity, that mankind needs order to prosper, and that his sister is not exempt from being part of that order. Nashira herself understands it, and submits to me as such.”

“Explain?” You don’t like his implications here.

“The Pyruses were accepted by the Lux for their fury and conviction. Excellent attributes for a simple warrior, but ill-suited for us Companions who are also leaders and exemplars for humanity. Castor resents me for this, but it is truth that Nashira cannot be anything beyond her current rank, and is suited as a dedicated assistant to a more competent Companion.”

“ ‘Cannot be’? What sort of wording...”

“One of the greatest crimes of the Violet Tyrant was the destruction of the social order in the country the Pyruses and I came from with their war and propaganda. A beautiful nation not yet present in your history, but the components are here: India, Persia, and Arabia, which our homeland blended the best traits of to create a true utopia, one where every...human had a perfect place to fit in society.”

Yuuka merely rolls her eyes at his intentional exclusion of her kind, and you get uncomfortable at the implications of his culture, “Isn’t that a caste system?”

“It is. Tis the only way to reach true happiness as a human. After all, how can people feel safe when their position in society is constantly under threat? How can morality and order be upheld without knowing WHO to listen to? You Japanese should know this better than most other people of this era. From birth every citizen of my kingdom had their role...”

“...A ‘kingdom’ made of those countries?...How...” From what you remember from social studies, those areas are very different in culture, and do not share a common origin in history.

“Agreements, solidarity.” He dismisses your question, “The important factor is that we agreed that everyone should know their future, and that or Devan Kingdom did to amazing effect, until you lot ruined everything.”

“Obligatory: What if there were people that did not want to be stuck in their role?” You quietly ask.

“If they don’t, they will be taught. Unnatural aberrations exist like in all societies, and corrective measures will be taken.”

“You used these “measures” against Nashira, didn’t you.” You glare, pure hate on your voice rather than general malice.

“Using them against? I used them for her sake! Even so, she was too unstable, only fit to be a subordinate enlisted. Never an officer. Such is the problem with lower caste folk trying above their station. If she STILL divulged information afterwards, I might have to continue the neural reconditioning...”

Out of sheer disgust, you do not wait for him to finish his sentence. “ESOTERICA: NINE KILLING SLABS.” You scream out, not even bothering with the pretense of danmaku as you channel your own faith into lethal chunks of falling mana. Deimos’s aura briefly holds them in place, before breaking.

“Holy attack? No...a tinge of the divine?” Deimos jumps away, leveling his shield, “I see, you still command the faith of the misled here.”

“Oh no, that’s not it.” You taunt, the normally chromatic spells around you tempered with a glint of gold, “That’s the zeitgeist of this era rejecting your motivations. Your Null-Fiend tier motivations.”

“You dare compare me to--Very well, if you will not listen to reason, then my weapons shall do the talking.” He stomps the ground, and a ring of stone pillars springs up around him. “Kochiya Sanae, how can you fight when even your goddesses have been convinced and converted to our side?!”

“You mean Thor consumed them and gave you their essence.” You shout back as you invoke another wave of slabs. No wonder you recognize those moves. You realize as you keep down the wrenching sense of horror at Suwako’s domain being used against you. Even if you are a protagonist, you can’t---

“TOO SLOW, SANAE!” Yuuka shouts, grabbing you out of the away of a flung pillar from Deimos, “Focus! We’re fighting for our lives here! Alternative Double Spark!”

“Wait you actually did---FWOOM” Yuuka cuts off your question with two blinding blasts of magical energy, curving around to strike Deimos in the center.

The ground shakes, and hands of concrete and roots emerge, striking at you and Yuuka. Retaliating with ofuda strikes while doing your best to fly out of their reach, you feel an ever growing sense of pain every time you blow one of them to pieces. Specifically, the part of you linked with Suwako.

This cannot hold.

“How can you critique any society when yours is formed on the corpses of humans!” Deimos shouts as he flies straight at you.

“The corpses of which are obtained with the consent of the Outside World! Thor might only be against Gensokyo, but you’re against half of the world here. Divine energy is a popularity contest, after all! Yuuka!”

You blast off a blinding morning star right at his face as Yuuka...buds into two? The second Yuuka that sort of split off of her isn’t really an illusion, but it isn’t really alive either. She could do that?

“Nature Sign…” Both Yuukas turn into balls of light, which proceed to ram into Deimos repeatedly, sending the paladin reeling, giving her time to turn back and prepare another spell, “Gaia’s Cleansing.”

The Yuukas fires off two sparks directly into each other, catching Deimos in the middle. The spells feed off of each other, their impact radius growing in size until it blossoms an energy ball the size of an apartment building. One of them turns hazy as the beams taper off, and vanishes into a puff of pollen as the ball detonates, knocking you back with the air pressure and almost sending you flying into the danger altitude.

Suddenly, a piercing migraine rings through your skull, and to your distress, remains there. You lose control over flight and only barely manage to land onto the tower, prone and clutching at your head as you feel it being torn asunder from the inside.

“Kochiya!” Yuuka yells out, uncharacteristic concern in her voice. She lands over to you and tries to pull you up, “I can still sense him around. What are you doing?”

“S-Suwako. Lady Suwako, she...”

“Willing put her life on the line for humanity,” A wet impalement sound, and you turn to see Yuuka’s face frozen in shock, staring down at the large Ame-no-Ohabari that had just made its way through her ribcage and out of her front. Final Fantasy 7 style.

Come to think of it, Yuuka is a flower girl too...WHAT ARE YOU THINKING RIGHT NOW?!

Deimos’s armor is scorched bright, but he himself does not appear to have sustained more than a few superficial injuries, “Rigel was correct. I was wrong. BOTH of you are capable of holy attacks. Tsk. This cursed blade from the dragon should deal with you...fragment of Konohanasakuya.”

Konohanasakuya? Iwanaga’s sister. Right, she did leave a massive impact on Yatsugatake, so was Yuuka a reflection of some sort?

“Yuuka?” You mutter weakly, “You...”

“It’s...nothing...” The flower youkai grits her teeth and stands up, in defiance of the sword still embedded inside of her. “So what? You...expect a simple cursed blade to...GUH!”

Deimos met Yuuka’s parasol swing with a parry and a slash from Ascalon, cutting her torso open further and sending her sprawling back. “No, but without the stolen divinity within you, you are no more than a wayward flower nymph, derelict of her simple duties to attend the gardens of Devan nobility.”

Yuuka can only hoarsely scream jumbled curses through a bloody mouth as Deimos arrogantly turns his back on her broken body, which can no longer maintain enough coherency to cast spells. You try to shout a blessing, but the pain in your head blocks out the attempt. Suwako is hurting too much.

Is this...game over? Running up against a cheap super boss?

“Unfortunately I cannot grant you mercy with just that blade. A true holy weapon is necessary for evil of your caliber, Kazami.”

No, you are Sanae Kochiya! A goddess of miracles! Even if you can’t conjure a true invocation right now, you can still pray. Pray that a spark of your power that had diffused in this land through your lands will awaken.

“Only Rhongomiant will suffice, I’m afraid. Ascalon is only for dragons.” Deimos says, rather matter-of-factly.

You ignore his gloating. You reach out with your pained, fevered whispers on the wind, asking for anyone, anything, to catch them.

“Your evil ends here. Consider this judgment for all the innocent humans you killed, Kazami.”

Something catches the whisper, and swallows it whole.

“Is it just me or is the comms policy here really bad? Everyone’s on a public frequency with no procedure. Over.” Bristow complains on the radio to his fellow drake pilots and partially his own Bronze Wing (he named it Puff).

“Wizard 1! ” Shou cuts in without warning, proving his point, “Patching in some information to your compendium. They’re reconstructed data from Thanatos’s shed parts...Over.”

“THANK YOU for finally...Err...I mean. Roger. Over.”

Bristow pats the drake’s exposed nerves and allows it to settle into a semi-evasive holding pattern. He pulls up the tablet and glances over the information.

“Commander Toramaru, are you saying you scanned a whole letter from his corpse parts? Over.”

“Oddly enough, yes. We’re not sure why his limbs were encoded with this through arcane cryptography, but it seems to illustrate his abilities. Sort of. We know he’s not a kishin, and currently Higan is cut off from our comms to confirm. Over.”

====

Hellish Report 2 of 5: Cocytus, the Freezing Dark

Year of Jiaqing 42 (1802 AD)

The four organic spells implanted have proven well in our trials for the new Kishin. Disguised as a wandering ronin, it successfully held off an attack on a village by rogue oni, and proved capable of healing their victims rapidly afterwards. We apologize for lacking the conditions for testing against its intended targets. As such, the completed product, named Thanatos out of respect for its heart’s donor, will be moved to your domain, China, great Jade Emperor, for field testing and deployment.

Once again, I must ask: What is your intention with such a weapon? Forgive us for not understanding the ways of Confucius and Laozi as well as we do those of the Buddha, but what source of heresy can arise in your country that are also fueled by the divine? Christians? Surely those foreigners need not the intervention of heaven itself to be driven out, nor do they pose a threat.

And it is not just I who holds such concerns. The other Yama have been talking, and fear that such a creation could be treacherous in nature, even with the nature of its soul. Perhaps one that will rival the Monkey King’s rampage, given how capable it can be.

Mechanism:

Cocytus is a frozen river capable of holding immaterial souls in suspension. Experimentation with samples produced by Thanatos have proven that such an act can be finely manipulated to shut off designated areas from physical and magical interference by selectively disposing observational sources from souls.

The westerners have a saying: “If a tree falls in a forest and nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” The answer, of course, is no, upon the surgical blindspotting of all sources, the physical nature of a situation cannot evaluate or change. Such a manner of stasis is well-known to western magicians, but to implement it without an initial application of a physical obscurant is something new, pioneered by this subject.

====

"Between life and death, lies perfection."

Meanwhile, on the ground below.

Sylla stands on guard as Savior personnel emerge from the tower. No weapons. Screaming in terror. Collapsing and spasming. Shou says to just let them go, as they pose no threat in this state.

He looks up to see the black sludge spreading downwards, and reminds himself that it’s supposed to be on his side.

Around when Awyrgan’s Tiamat juice reaches two-thirds of the way down, the stream of runners cease. Then, other things begin emerging from the gates. And really, things are the best way he could categorize them.

Sylla sucks on his fear and dumps as much emotion into his mask as possible. He looks over to his progenitor for encouragement, but even Kokoro is trembling at the sight, wearing a mask that’s very much not one of confidence. How else are you supposed to react to frames of spindly metal, wearing a stretched facade of tar-colored skin and meat?

Fortunately, Awyrgan is merciful enough to not force the Clear Sky troops to interact with their newest recruits. Unfortunately, Sylla can still feel their emotions with his mask.

The abominations shamble, wordlessly. Their emotions turgid and stiff, without change. As if their minds are frozen. One looks over to him, its lower jaw replaced with metallic mandibles, which is enough to force Sylla to take a step back just out of instinct.

Sylla then screams, out loud, as the abomination turns around and reveals a face on its back, one that tends to the aiming of a light cannon mounted there. He looks around to see the other soldiers. Some are screaming like him, others seem to have lapsed into standing catatonia.

Kokoro is actually showing visible fear on her real face. “A..Adin. You’re f...feeling them too?”

“Y..yeah. Not as horrible as...that..though. Why do machines still...emote.”

She trembles, then says, “Dig deeper.”

Sylla sucks in a deep breath, and focuses his mind. Blocking the horrific appearance out of his mind, he dives into the unmoving sea of the abomination’s emotions, a queer, but not entirely unpleasant set, considering the thing’s appearance.

Until he reaches past the surface thoughts, and hits a solid core of sheer, unbridled fear and terror that jolts him right back out, severing the empathic link. “Kokoro, the people! They...”

“They’re still alive.”

====

[x] Wait

The boat clears the mists, and at the oar is a redheaded woman in an puffy dress, decorated by coins. A name tingles in what little consciousness you have remaining: Komachi.

“Komachi?” You mutter, exhaling outwards in a ghostly whisper. The woman simply stares at you, and motions for you to board the boat. She does not ask for a toll.

You feel around your robes, and reveal a single gold coin. You recognize this gold coin. You tossed it to your friend, remember? When did she give it back?

The woman ignores it, even after you board the boat.

The boat turns around and moves, even though she’s not rowing. The riverbank fades, and you catch sight of hundreds, if not thousands of other souls waiting at its shores. However, you are the sole passenger for this voyage. Special treatment?

The other side of the river does not come into view.

“Technically,” Komachi suddenly breaks the silence, “I’m not sure if I should even be bringing you across. Wu Zhen-Guo is not dead.”

“...Eh?”

“Your body. It is still alive...technically, and there is still a healthy soul piloting it without possession, despite its heavily contaminated nature. You...the part here right now...have simply been kicked out of it when it died the second time. But your whole is still amongst the living.”

Thunder and lightning sounds in the distance, and some more memories resurface. “War...is this land not at war? Right now?”

“The shinigami are not concerned with the conflict of mortals, just the violations of laws regarding life and death. Besides,” Komachi points at the shore, “I am helping out.”

You look at the shore. A teeming mass of ghosts, in both ragged mercenary outfits and broken knight regalia, stare back at you with hollow eyes. You look across, and see many more similar boats ferrying them across.

“This is your job, true, but...” You wrack the strands of your leftover memories, “We are winning, right?”

Komachi remains silent for a few moments, before reluctantly replying, “Clear Sky entered Gensokyo with three thousand human soldiers, supported by youkai who signed on to Yukari’s contracts. By the end, their numbers will be the same.”

“...?”

“You worked for Eientei. You must have seen the rows of pods Lady Yagokoro maintains in its extradimensional depths. Clear Sky is a phantasmal corporation, and Yakumo has dealings with everyone...including Eientei...and Higan.”

=====



Location: Eientei, 14th expansion segment laboratory

Time: 12 hours until collapse of current Hakurei Iteration



“Hmm.” Yukari remarks as the human stumbles out of the stasis chamber, naked and confused. “You could have used a better model than baseline humanity, Eirin.”

“More deviations from baseline would result in even worse soul desynchronizations than we’re getting.” The doctor responds, exhaustion in her voice and her face. “Cloning isn’t as easy as the humans imagine, even for a genius like me.”

“I suppose asking for enhancements while already using unpurified souls is too much, yes.” Yukari remarks as she drops a towel to the confused human from an overhead gap. “But mental stability isn’t that important for my needs.”

“You do not get berserkers from soul desynchronization, you get gibbering zombies.” Eirin says, annoyed, “I still have headcam footage from my former employee, now a part of your Mordred, from where he demonstrated exactly why it’s such a hindrance to breaching the border of life and death...not that you had any reason to care until now.”

“Yuyuko was a success, thank you very much. And if I could repeat the process with everyone under contract, I will. Hey!” She steps over to the human who had cleaned the goo from his eyes and is now staring and muttering at his hands, “Michael Okoro. Sales Division team member!”

The human looks up at her, panic in his eyes, “My name! That’s my name! But...but this isn’t my body! These aren’t my hands! Lady Yakumo! I feel like my nerves are scrambled…Fok, am I going to die? Didn’t I die?”

Yukari sighs, “Mr. Okoro, your contract said twenty years of employment, and unlike less successful companies, we do not see death in combat as a termination clause and would go through Hell, literally, to get you back in action.”

“I died? I...DIED!? I don’t belong here!” The man continues, his disconnect and confusion only worsening as he comprehends his situation.

“We are in active operations as per clause 35-E. Finish this operation and we can then talk about severance. Armory is to the right.”

Eirin watches as the man stumbles past, still afflicted but unnaturally obedient. “You do know that my data oracles prophecize a 98% suicide rate past one month, correct?”

The sage shrugs and opens a gap, stepping in, “As I said, severance. Now, I trust you have the rehabilitation process under control for these soldiers, Omoikane, as I will be heading out to assist your agents in breaking through the Savior’s rear guard near the bamboo forest.”

Eirin looks up, at the elaborate enchantment systems she set up for just this purpose, and lets out a weak laugh, “You ought to do more than just trust me, Lurker at the Threshold.”

=====

“So what do I do now?” You ask. Your arms move, unbidden.

“Wait until we finish the trip to the other side. Then we’ll have Eiki see what needs to be done for your situation…”

With a single fluid motion, Komachi swings her scythe around, neatly severing your hands before you could grasp around her neck. “I’ll be keeping these as long as you’re on my boat.” She says, as if it’s a routine thing, while pocketing them. “If you bite I will be taking your head custody as well.”

You stare dumbly at your stumps.

“You really have not changed, lost soul. No matter how often you cross the river....”

She bends backwards, staring into your eyes.

“...All you do is kill.”

[x] “AYO! THE MAGNIFICENT TENSHI HERE WITH THE WORLD FAMOUS MEN IN BLA...Get off the radio...This is Captain Matthew Ferguson here with the CIA-Clear Sky Joint Strike Force. We’ve got the weather manipulation device -HAARP- set up, requesting assistance with defending it on activation.”

“I thought HAARP being able to do anything beyond low level ionosphere experiments was just a conspiracy theory?” You ask into the radio.

“Because it didn’t have the power capacity.” Ferguson replies, “Besides, if we wanted to start earthquakes, nuclear charges were a more economical option. With the...cooperation of Gensokyo, however, we can tap into the noosphere energy generated by those very same conspiracy theories and also augment the system with its previously thought to be impossible piece:...”

“ME!” Tenshi cuts in, excitedly. “My Sword of Hisou can convert spiritual energy directly into weather! Well, without any opposition and usually only within a square kilometer at most, but this American machine can amplify it and thus display my true power, changing the sky of the whole of Japan if needed!”

“When it’s fully deployed of course.” Ferguson cuts back in as you hear soldiers in the background coaxing Tenshi away, “Miss Hinanawi cannot defend herself while channeling for us, and you can bet the enemy will rush this position as soon as they can detect us trying to dispel Thor’s Fimbulwinter blizzard. You may not have noticed, Mordred, but us normal humans are not doing so well with such malicious snow in the way.”

Shou did tell you something about the snow while your lady was keeping you in full slave mode. Something about it affecting human combat capabilities. Come to think of it, your Bronze Wing escorts were really only barely holding on the whole time despite the Typhoon-Dragons being statistically superior to the Savior’s “Baby’s First Fighter Jet” F-22s. Not that the pensioner knights’ pride will allow them to admit so.

“Very well. Mordred Unit will be arriving shortly to defend your position...” You check the map and confirm with Shou over your other internal radio, “In five minutes. Over.”

Ferguson gives a confirmation signal, and the radio cuts out.

“Are we planning on relying on just Yuuka for our physical firepower?” Nue rumbles from above you, manifested in all her historical size and glory, “The dragon ain’t really here, and all Thanatos can really do is soak up attacks while I keep him unidentifiable.”

“Once Lady Suwako recovers, we should be fine.” Sanae replies, still focused on healing her ancestor, still barely conscious, while riding on Nue’s back. “We are not the only ones defending this installation.

As you crest over the hilltop to the indicated location, you suddenly feel as if you just pushed through a barrier of liquid. Moments later, the landscape completely transforms, and the blizzard abruptly disappears, replaced with a light drizzle. Instead of the temperate, relatively sparse Japanese forest below, you instead see a vast boreal forest, with numerous snowy mountains in the distance.

You’re Outside again. But this time, Wu Zhenguo is not here to try to fuck things up. In fact, with Lady Awyrgan’s gifted wings, you can still fly

Behind you, a vast rift is open in the air, not with Yukari’s signature ribboned gap, but a hellish formation of fire and brimstone that leads back into the Gensokyo warzone. Below you is the distinctive antenna array of the HAARP facility, located in...right, Alaska.

You’re in Alaska.

===

Location: Gakona, Alaska - United States of America
Time: 10 hours until collapse of current Hakurei Iteration

===

“Thanatos!” Somebody shouts at you. Not through the radio. But directly from below with immense volume.

“Eh?”

“Get down here!”

“Who is this?” You try to shout back.

“GET DOWN NOW! Cerberus, φέρω!”

“Eh?” You feel warm, moist air on the back of your neck, and look back to see a gaping maw...no, THREE gaping maws with massive fangs. Instinctively, you draw Initiative to try to smack them away, but they read your move and snatch you by your wings.

“Uh...help?” You murmur into the radio as the three-headed dog drags you down from the sky. Rather gently, you suppose, considering it’s jaw strength is very much enough to rip you in two, armor or not.

Cerberus lays you down inside the HAARP facility, on your feet.

Around you, are some rather ominous-looking masked US soldiers manning various emplacements that were clearly set up overnight, alongside scared-looking civilian engineers, likely working for the University of Alaska Fairbanks judging by their jackets, hurrying to and fro.

In the center of the array, an impromptu ritual stage of some sort has been set up on top of two flatbed trucks. You can sort of see a figure with blue hair and a rainbow sword busy leviating rocks on top of it, while a mob of scientists and technicians fiddle around with various terminals and machinery below.

“I’ve been waiting to talk to you, Thanatos.”

In front of you, apart from the humans, is some blue-haired goth girl, straight out of the back alley of a highschool, wearing an orb on her head, staring at you with an odd expression.

“Welcome...to...hell?” You quote outloud from her shirt, straight out of Hot Topic. “So are you a youkai or spirit of metal music or social outcasts? An American youkai?”

“Cerberus!” Now that you’re closer, her thick Greek accent becomes more apparent. The large three-headed hellhound runs over, and sits obediently at her side, “Eat him if he says something stupid like that again.”

“Oh. Sorry.” You apologize. You might not share Wu Zhenguo’s fear of beasts, but a giant three-headed dog is still a giant viable threat. “You’re...Hades? I thought he was male...”

Her expression turns into disappointment, “You really don’t recognize me?”

“No...sorry. I definitely would have remembered you if I’ve seen you before.”

“Thanatos...I’m Hecate.”

You stare at her, then to Cerberus, then back at her post-modern attire, “You’re Hecate?? Sure could have fooled any god with that getup.”

“Are you really going to say that, Thanatos, considering your current appearance?”

You shrug your metallic shoulders, “I’m not the Thanatos you knew, Lady Hecate. I am a control system written by his incarnation to offload his status onto the corpse of a serial killer. I don’t know you, Lady Hecate and I don’t fully remember what my progenitor’s identity is if you ask me.”

Hecate’s eyes widen and glow. Sigils of Greek symbols pop up around you, and you feel all the twisting passageways in your brain straighten out, your magic resistance faltering against the sheer amount of pressure Hecate is putting out, “I am not concealing information.” You add on.

Wait, did Hecate just overcome your anti-divinity?

“Really?” She turns to your fellow wingmen aboard Nue, who had just landed, scaring off the civilians in the area with her monstrous appearance. “Let’s see if your friends admit otherwise.”

Hecate raises her arms, makes a grabbing motion. Scripts of light flow out of your companions’ heads before they notice anything, and into the goddess’s palms.

“Hmph, they don’t know anything either.” She mutters, reading their memories like a pamphlet.

“You can just do that?” You ask.

“Thanatos, I am THE goddess of magic and the sole active god of Greece. Unlike the vestigial gods of Gensokyo or the Nordic Pantheon I still command the faith of all those who believe in western magic and witchcraft, which number in the billions. Astrology, New Age beliefs, communing with the dead...all are within my domain and invoke my name, even if they do not explicitly worship me.”

You take a good look at her outfit again, “Is that why you look like you shop at a Hot Topic? Forgive my ignorance, is it the trend now for a goddess to dress like her followers now, instead of the reverse?”

“That...and because I do run a business for my followers.” A hint of embarrassment crosses her face, “Dionysus runs a chain of wineries now, and Apollo owns a ranch...”

“Is it because Greece’s economy under dire economic straits that you are all turning to business?”

Cerberus growls, and Hecate’s eyes narrow, “...No. But that is why I’m helping Gensokyo here today, Thanatos. The US Government and Clear Sky have agreed to some fairly generous bailout conditions in exchange for me linking this chunk of the West with the otherworld in the East. Something the mistress of Gensokyo cannot do as there are no easy borders between Alaska and Japan.”

She’s also a goddess of crossroads as well, you remember from recorded mythology.

“But also because my closest friend, one I’ve made after the fading of Olympus, has a deep hatred for the Lunarians, and Gensokyo is an enemy of the Lunarians. Also the fact that the enemy is using Lunarian technology on Earth means that they are likely an ally of the Lunarians.”

“And the enemy of my enemy is my...is your friend called Junko, by any chance?”

Hecate sighs “You know so much already. Maybe it was a bad idea to interact with your form here. Hey, Kochiya Sanae! Demigod Kochiya Sanae?”

“Whaaaat?” The green-haired shrine maiden responds as she runs over, “What god are you and why are you giving off so much holy energy?”

Cerberus, meanwhile, has taken a interest in Nue, happily yipping, rumbling and barking at the same time about the youkai while Nue seems more disturbed than anything by its three heads.

“Newborn deities these days. Here.” Hecate steps forward and rips out something inside of you.

======

A burning hand the size of an elephant pushes its way inside of you, effortlessly brushing you aside.

It snatches away the remaining three papers in the lockbox.

There is nothing you can do to stop it. Tiamat’s currently elsewhere.

======

She weaves...whatever she just got out...into three flaps of goatskin parchment, and hands them to a still rather surprised Sanae, “Take these. Read them. Tell your friend here when the fight is over and he is in a secured location...or if you decide it is the time to.”

“Lady Hecate, can you tell me why you are not telling me what you just took?” You ask, annoyed at another one selectively denying you information.

“That I can tell you. These reports were locked away for a reason inside your heart, and from the way they were sealed off, I can deduce that they have something to do with the way the Yamas of Japan molded Thanatos’s heart into what the Chinese Heavenly Court commissioned, perhaps some sort of instinctual response would be elicited.”

“Considering I was completely remade into what I am now.” You gesture at your current form of living metal and machinery. “I doubt that is the case, and the two reports prior shared with me did not cause any reaction.”

“I can’t read this you know, it’s all kanji...I mean, it’s all in Chinese.” Sanae interjects as she looks at the reports. Hecate ignores her.

‘Thanatos’” Hecate crosses her arms, as the balls connected to her hat via chains (is she a Touhou by virtue of that hat?) begin to float, “As you are just an artificial helot created by the real Thanatos’s incarnation, what is written within these reports by the Yama have little to do with you in particular. On the side of caution, I would not risk exposing you to the full set at once.”

You are about to protest , then think better of it, “Sure, it’s not my business anyway. We’re not the same person.”

The goddess seems to relax at that statement, “Judging by your attitude, it is clear that you are speaking the truth, and that the one I need to speak to is currently in Hell.”

“I figured that’s where Wu ended up.” You say.

“So I’ll be heading there. Meanwhile...Yuuka.” Hecate turns towards the youkai who had been surveying the landscape.

“Hecatia.” The youkai of flowers curtly responds at the goddess of magic’s curious gaze. “You have something to ask? I am afraid I have not been doing much this millenium.”

“I know.” Yuuka’s lips curl into a frown as Hecate turns back to you, “Looks like you lot will be able to handle this war just fine with someone like that around, plus all the pseudodragons you’ve produced. I’ll be off.”

“Aren’t you going to help us?” You ask, disappointed.

“I helped Clear Sky enough here already, as much as I can get away with while remaining deniable,” She says,tilting her head at the hellgate, “I have no stake in this conflict, and the last thing Greece needs right now is a war with an army from the future...but here:” She conjures a wreath of hellfire, from which a rusty bronze blade emerges. “Thanatos’s old sword. You might find it useful.”

“I have enough rusty weapons on me right now,” You protest, showing her the array of legendary swords, corrupted with the waters of Tiamat-Styx as they are, that you nabbed from Deimos. Thor hasn’t dispelled their manifestation yet, probably due to the corruption. “And last time I touched something like that it gave me a flashback, which according to you, is quite dangerous. Besides, not mine.”

“Your new mistress is really a generous one, well then...oh right, I almost forgot.” You jump back as Hecate taps her heels on the ground, which splits asunder with a spew of fire and brimstone, out of which emerges...a single fairy?

“This is Clownpiece, one of my lampads.” Hecate states as she lifts the fairy up and moves her close to you, as if expecting you to take the fairly large girl into your arms. “She has been conditioned in anti-Lunarian operations, AND one which my friend saw fit to transform into a pure form...of pure lifeforce, if you would...Thanatos?”

“I think he likes me, Lady Hecatia!” Clownpiece happily.

“Too...alive...overcharging.” An uncontrollable drool of river water streams out of the corner of your maw. You’ve been leeching off the lifeforce of your Hews and kills to fuel your spells, but this...this is more than what even Awyrgan’s killings can provide.

“You conceptually aligned her to the United States’s land?” Yuuka asks as she strolls over to take ahold of Clownpiece and distance you from the fountain. You only now realize that the fairy is wearing an outfit resembling the American flag, which several of the US soldiers around have also taken note and are jokingly saluting.

“She’s supposed to be a bioweapon against the Lunarians, of which the United States is their largest conceptual weakness. Junko had also refined her very essence to become a fountain of life energy, their bane. Use her as you wish. That is the last of my aid I will be rendering to your corporation. Farewell.”

With the rather quick rundown, Hecate steps back, and vanishes into a plume of hellfire.

“My my, that Junko must be really powerful to produce a nexus such as you.” Yuuka remarks as she greets Clownpiece, “Isn’t she?”

“Yep! Lady Junko can purify everything and anything to make them stronger!” Clownpiece shares Hecate’s thick Greek accent, but is significantly happier in tone. “ And she’s from China, just like you, new-Thanatos!”

“Err-my original body is from China, the person who it belonged to is long dead.” You reply, shaking off the stupor. “Never heard of her though. And if Yuuka hasn’t, I doubt anyone else here has.”

“Auntie Junko is a weird person who stays inside most of the time. She shouts everyday that Chang’e, that lady who was the first to live on the moon, is her worst enemy.”

A Humvee pulls up, and a tall, gruff-looking black man steps out. A somewhat familiar face.

Captain Ferguson, formerly the guy herding those outsiders to the village, nervously looks around as he approaches you. “Is that goddess gone?”

“Yeah, this is just Mordred Unit here now, and Hecate’s parting gift of an aide.” You respond. “Never expected the US military to work with Clear Sky directly, are you guys special forces or something?”

“CIA, specifically.” Ferguson, in his full military dress and kit, looks much more intimidating than his role as the hapless leader of the outsiders last week, “We’re not on the books, at least not to you, Wu Zhenguo, a National Guard washout with no clearance. We’re embedded throughout the Air Force, but internally we’re known as the Lunarian Operations Task Force, founded by the Apollo mission command.”

“Wait, so Neil Armstrong was a part of you guys?”

“The Apollo 11 crew could be considered the first LOTF marines, yes. We owe most of the things you see here to the anti-thaumaturgy technology developed for the moon landings, as well as the Lunarian insights we gleaned from those missions. We still can’t use their stuff we recovered, however, due to issues with the purity on Earth. But according to Clear Sky’s data, the enemy has them?”

“Yes, indeed.” You take a good look at the soldiers on duty around. Mostly standard infantry gear, with experimental-looking attachments and ammunition that are all aimed towards disrupting magical particles. The M1 Abrams tanks embedded in hull-down positions around the perimeter sport an external railgun accelerator, and that’s about as obviously advanced as it gets.

Clear Sky troopers aren’t flashy either, but most of them are mages to some degree. Can these US regulars really deal with Savior gear without assistance?

“...So Area 51 really doesn’t have that many interesting things, huh?”

“We ain’t no Space Marines...yeah I was disappointed too, especially after the debriefing that magic was real and everything. Apparently we’re not considered priority for funding in the agency considering how obscure the threat is. But as unassuming as it looks, it was enough to deal with the antagonistic Lunarian agents we find on Earth. Not sure about these guys.”

“Right, the mission!” How did both of you get off-track like this? “Recon info? Are you sure the Saviors will be attacking in force all the way here, in Alaska?”

“We have reports from locals and park rangers of dust plumes and entire trails of broken trees. While they have evaded our sensors, they are fairly clumsy at actual operational stealth. Furthermore, they have been tailing Miss Hinanawi since she was...deposited in San Francisco...”

“She was ‘deposited’?”

“I don’t know. Ask your commander, the gappy one. Regardless,” Ferguson glances at the horizon, then to the truck stage, “We can safely assume that the the enemy will be assaulting this facility shortly after we begin the highly visible procedure to dispel their artificial blizzard, and considering the nationality of most of the captured fighters...” Ferguson grits his teeth as he says that, “We can assume they have substantial numbers here given the lack of travel restrictions for them...as our Lunarian essence detectors are pinging like mad all around this area.”

You radio back to Shou to see if Futo’s got anything, but apparently her ability, nor any Gensokyo-based form of scrying, do not work through an artificial portal. “Wizard Squadron...”

“We’ve been surveying the area before you asked, Thanatos.” Bristow replies, “Nothing to see up here...except for the visible tracks proceeding to your southwest. Probably an armored column through there. Very slow, however.”

“Their active camo systems only work at low velocities.” You check Wizard Squadron’s feed, “Captain Ferguson. How much artillery and air support do you have?”

“Unfortunately our cruise missile launch sites in Alaska were sabotaged earlier this week by turncoat agents recruited by the Saviors.” He audibly suppresses his rage as he points at the guns encamped just short of the HAARP installation itself. “We have thirty howitzers, and two wings of attack aircraft from Elmendorf Air Base loitering just beyond the horizon. It’s all we can get from the proper military without tipping off more of their insiders. As such, we’re going to have to think carefully before starting up the HAARP, since judging by their prior actions they will not attack openly unless---”

A loud clanging sound interrupts Ferguson. You look towards the source, coming from the improvised stage set up in the middle of the now very much alive and active radar array. Electric buzzing fills the air as HAARP springs to life, with a levitating keystone in the middle carrying a very confident looking celestial waving her sword around slowly rising to the tops.

“RESEARCH DIVISION, THIS IS MENHIR ONE. WHAT THE FUCK?” Ferguson screams into his radio, “WHERE’S THE ACTIVATION SIGNAL?”

“SUBJECT HINANAWI TRIPPED ON A WIRE AND FELL ONTO THE SWITCH.”

“Mordred,” Bristow calmly explicates over the radio, “Large amounts of hostiles are decloaking across the AO, what is your move? Over.”

[ ] We need to clear out the skies quickly so air support can come deal with their armor. Gensokyeans, we can use Nue as a heavy flying platform to accomplish this.
[ ] I’m borrowing a tank and going to head off their armor with Lady Awyrgan’s gifts. The rest of you cover me while Wizard Squadron secures the airspace.
[ ] HAARP can defend against even Divine missiles with Tenshi powering it, but not conventional artillery. With Clownpiece’s output and our collective abilities, we can shield the facility until the ritual completes. if you can survive up there--GAAH!

“You okay?” Sanae asks as you bend over in pain from a sudden migraine.

“Nothing, just a headache.” You say. Odd. You haven’t felt like this since your body’s gotten used to your iron spells. And surely a compleated form from your lady shouldn’t be susceptible.

[X] W̴̨̯̖͓͖͓͊̄͒͂̔̓̉̈́͊̾̽̍̕͝I̵̢̳̼̪̰̯̭͉̞̣̠̤̖͂́́Z̷͖̱̘̮̟̬͓̹̜̹̺̘̥̊̂͑͂̑͜͝͠Ǎ̸̡̂̇̓͊̑̈͂͝Ŕ̵̨̲̦̣̮͖͚͇̮̫̤͉̗̫̆̕D̸̦̂̂̒͛ͅ ̶͖̖̦̞̱̗̦̙͕̾̉͊͋̀̎̆́́͜S̴̨͙͚͍̘͖̺͓̺̯̘̹̲̩̅̊̈̀͐̐̃̇̅̋̈́͝Q̶͉͐̌̈̅͜U̵̧͎͎̳̣͓͙̗̦͚͇̟̐̇̔A̴̡̧̡͍̘̖̬̳̼̒̊̄͌̌̑̌͗͗͂̀̚͜D̸̡̡̨̼̫̫͍̩͑̃̍́̿̏̈́ͅŖ̶͔̞͗̋̓̋̈́̓͠Ǫ̵̛̼̥̬̣͐̍̑̄̑͊͗̌̏̐́͌͊͒ͅ
̟̪̼͎N̶̬̬̬͕͈͔͔̣͋͜ͅͅ, K̷̨̍͂́̆Ī̷͍̫͚̒̿͘Ḷ̸̓̔͆L̶̳̍ ̷̧̀̌Ṫ̴̢̙͙̔̌̓H̵̨̊͠E̵̯͇̱͓͊̿ UPSTART ̶̹̜͓͝C̴̨̯̤͐͘E̵̦͌Ḻ̶̡̩̭̎̾͑Ȅ̷̘͈̻̕S̸̬͇͖̱̓Ṫ̸̲͑Ì̸͖̼͊̚Ą̴͖̌͠L̸̪̪̦̗̍͐
[X] W̴̨̯̖͓͖͓͊̄͒͂̔̓̉̈́͊̾̽̍̕͝I̵̢̳̼̪̰̯̭͉̞̣̠̤̖͂́́Z̷͖̱̘̮̟̬͓̹̜̹̺̘̥̊̂͑͂̑͜͝͠Ǎ̸̡̂̇̓͊̑̈͂͝Ŕ̵̨̲̦̣̮͖͚͇̮̫̤͉̗̫̆̕D̸̦̂̂̒͛ͅ ̶͖̖̦̞̱̗̦̙͕̾̉͊͋̀̎̆́́͜S̴̨͙͚͍̘͖̺͓̺̯̘̹̲̩̅̊̈̀͐̐̃̇̅̋̈́͝Q̶͉͐̌̈̅͜U̵̧͎͎̳̣͓͙̗̦͚͇̟̐̇̔A̴̡̧̡͍̘̖̬̳̼̒̊̄͌̌̑̌͗͗͂̀̚͜D̸̡̡̨̼̫̫͍̩͑̃̍́̿̏̈́ͅŖ̶͔̞͗̋̓̋̈́̓͠Ǫ̵̛̼̥̬̣͐̍̑̄̑͊͗̌̏̐́͌͊͒ͅ
̟̪̼͎N̶̬̬̬͕͈͔͔̣͋͜ͅͅ, P̸̻͊̑̿̍̽̒̈́͝R̵͖̲͊̀̀͗̀̈́͘͝͝Ǫ̴̨͔͉̮͕̼͕͊̒̌͆̇̊͝Ṯ̸̺͋̓̊̚͝ͅͅE̴͎͔̥͔̤͚͍̓͒̆͋̕͜Ć̵͎͉̝̭̲͝T̴̺̏͆̄͑̈́͆͐̑͝ ̴̱̳̮̓̉̽̅̎̚Ṭ̶͍̟̤͎̞̼͙̻̄̈̌͜͝͝Ḥ̵͆̅̄̅̀̅E̵͍̙̞̒̀̌̂ ̵̧̼͙̝͎͔̆̃̾͒̃̈͘U̶̠͆̽̊̚P̵̣̩͂S̷̮͎̜̀̒̈̈́̾T̵͚̮̘͖͎̰͍̔̐Á̵̢̛̱͕͓͔̰͂̑̄́̚̚͝͝R̷͔̖̙̈́̿͗T̵̝͓͙̟̑̄̈̑̽̉͂̆͘͜͝ ̷̨͙̜̞̜͍̗̖̾̾͜͝C̷̨̻̜̪̙̉̃͌̆͋̐͒̆͠E̴̢͕͓̯̺̿̔̔͆̕L̷̲̻̮͇̏͂̽̏̊̇͝Ę̷̤̝͙͙̥̤̱͒̃͜͜S̵̫̊͛͗̍͘T̵̢̟̻̬̫̦̀̇̔̂̎̂͛̓̿Ĩ̶̧͎͈̖̖̟̜͌́Ǎ̷̰̘͠͝L̵̨̜̣͖̻̰̦̓̓̚̚͝

[x] We need to clear out the skies quickly so air support can come deal with their armor. Gensokyeans, we can use Nue as a heavy flying platform to accomplish this.

“Before you say anything,” Nue gruffily says, “I’m not going to act as bait again.”

“Not the case, master shapeshifter. I will be drawing the brunt of the fire for you guys and Wizard Squadron. What I want you to do is stay invisible, and make me look like my lady.”

“That, I can do.” With a flourish, Nue warps the light around you into a flurry of smoke, blurring your outline until you have to activate the Hunter’s Module (now fused to your head) to see. The humans surrounding you back away as you appear to transform into a duplicate of Awyrgan.

“That said,” Nue adds on, fluttering around you as an unidentifiable orb of light, “This is an extension of my youkai abilities. If their anti-youkai capabilities out here are anywhere close to the ones we faced, this illusion will not last, especially since we’re not inside Gensokyo. I can reapply if that happens, but they will soon find out that you are not the Dragon.”

“I have a bunch of defiled legendary weapons. I can probably draw enough divine energy from them to ensure that your illusion holds up. Well, probably, but we’re out of time. Yuuka, Clown...Piece? You two have a plan?”

“...Yes.” Yuuka carefully says, her fingers dexterously weaving an enchanted wreath over the giggling fairy. “We will be staying on the ground and running something akin to a shield on this facility. Sanae still has enough faith of her own to help you before I can get a nice grove up to help with the anti-air. I can’t fly like she can with wind magic, and my abilities are largely tied to the earth. If I had assistance...”

She stops talking mid-sentence as Suwako, who was hanging off of Sanae’s back, stirs and nudges at her descendent to let her down.

“Huh? Oh! Lady Suwako!” The shrine maiden hurriedly says and complies with her ancestral deity, “You have awoken!”

“Sanae...Where are we? I cannot feel the earth spirits nor Mishaguji.” The little god mutters as she rubs her eyes, “That bastard hybrid of a god locked me out of what went on.”
“We’re in Alaska, Lady Suwako, in North America...wait, did you say hybrid?”

“Yes...ooh, I have never been outside of Japan before...this is not good...” Suwako grabs ahold of Sanae’s arm to steady herself, “What was inside of that ‘Thor’ is strange. When he forcibly assimilated me and Kanako into his identity, part of this thoughts I could pick up are the typical thoughts of a divine being, but the rest is...something more than even a primordial deity. I can’t understand it, just trying to glean meaning from it feels like drowning at the bottom of a lake.”

“Could it be that the Lux Pacifica, the mysterious backer deity for the enemy, is possessing him? Since it has no trace in the present or the past, perhaps it hitched a ride when they came back in time through...” You check Castor’s holocube notes, “Some sort of ‘superphysics’ portal?”

“Who are...wait, aren’t you Meiling’s kid, Guoguo? You look weirdly...metallic.”

You and Sanae quickly fill her in on the situation. Emphasis on quickly, since Captain Ferguson is shouting that the enemies are reaching artillery range.

“Likely...ugh...” Suwako takes a look at the terrain around her, “So far from any reservoirs of faith...Sanae, you and...that thing go take care of the flying foes, I can handle the ground for now.”

“Glad to know.” Sanae tugs on Nue’s paw, “Let’s fly.”

As you fly up on Nue’s back, you see a ring of stone sprout up around the perimeter, and then another one, until the HAARP facility is a veritable fortress of natural, shifting rock, shaped vaguely like a stone blossom, blooming against the surrounding green Alaskan wilderness.

You also see glowing vines and trees sprout up between them, projecting barriers shaped like sunflowers, but with a distinctly hellish hue to them.

“Man, that fairy Hecate gave us is pretty powerful, and so is your goddess’s...Come to think of it. How HAVEN’T you run out of faith. Or Suwako, come to think of it? You’ve been running on fumes since last night!”

“We’re drawing from alternative sources now.” Sanae repeats in a deadened tone.

“You don’t mean you have sources out here, right? ”

Sanae shows you a tablet that she borrowed earlier from Ferguson, “Here’s an example: My Pixiv tag count.”

You pursed your lips, “Sanae, you left the filter off.”

“I know.”

“Half of the images I can see are...questionable.”

“I know.” She repeats in the same deadened tone.

“But we’re not in Japan right now, so the native faith from your fans isn’t that helpful...”

She changes the tab over to a Niconico page, your eyes widen as she pulls up the streaming UI. “Thanatos, say hi to our worshippers.”

“Sanae, you’ve been broadcasting our activity? Oh, hello.” You give your best impression of an inoffensive smile as she turns the tablet over to you. “By the Styx, two million viewers?”

“And growing. I’ve been doing it since we crossed Hecate’s barrier. Clear Sky is pretty much the top trending topic on social media right now and I’m using their account.” You just notice now that Sanae’s speaking in English, “Most of them are not worshippers yet, but as long as they’re watching, I can use their contributions....Right. Hi there! Viewers! This guy is Thanatos, our trusty and durable spearhead in our operations here. Say hi to the people.”

“Hello.” You say, temporarily disabling the draconic visage. “Doesn’t this compromise operational secrecy?” You mutter to the shrine maiden.

“Not for our current job! We are going to meet those nasty interlopers in battle with you, and they know it! You dragon!” You notice that neither Nue’s concealed form nor Wizard Squadron are visible on the stream. “Since they’re not here yet though, Thanatos, why don’t you help our viewers understand more about the land we’re defending? Ask me a question!”

“Sanae, do you have a boyfriend?” You ask, without thinking.

Sanae’s face turns red, but does not break her eager expression, “...Why are you asking this private question, as surely the Outside World has many couples you could ask the same of?”

“I am simply curious. Since the Artist leaves out anything romantic in his depictions of Gensokyo, and your...worshippers outside come up with their own. Pixiv seems fit to either pair you with the girls, Rinnosuke, or some faceless....”

“Thanatos,” Sanae quickly cuts you off, “if any of us were to pull a move on Rinnosuke of all people, Marisa and Keine would go on a warpath. Besides, he’s too old for humans and too young for many youkai. Personally, I never thought of it much, being a new goddess and everything….I can’t take a human...or a youkai...or...Hey!” Sanae snaps out of it right before exposing too much of her internals, “What about you then? You’re just as much of a weirdo as the rest of us.”

“I do not have functioning genitals anymore. Sanae.” You state, once again, without thinking.

“Ah...Right…” The radar beeps. The Savior fighters have entered its coverage range and provides a convenient segue for Sanae to hurriedly change the topic. ”Oh, here they come!”

“Wizard Squadron, engage and come near me if you get locked on.” You call out into the radio. “Nue, amp my radar signature so I can override any lock-ons that get near me. The bigger the better.”

As your outline grows to dragon size, and your blip on the radar becomes more of a cloud, you engage the wings that are now truly a part of you, spewing a jet trail behind you as you charge towards the first wave of enemies at supersonic speed. What’s left of your clothes catches ablaze as you hurtle towards the X-22s like an angry undead meteor.

You miss, of course, being a fairly clumsy flier, but you saw some of them launch missiles at you. Turning around, you pull up the Dissection Barrier to intercept the blast waves when the proximity fuses go off...only to find that the missiles fly straight pass the kill range and into your shield, producing jets of molten metal that strain even the Tiamat-enhanced reactor of your body.

HEAT warheads? Ah, truly they fear the armor of thy lady. You reply to their challenge by releasing Initiative from its aetherial sheath and level it at the offending aircraft. Firing off several DP rounds with the Hunter’s Module for tracking guidance, you land several direct hits, and they all appear to have no impact on the fighter jets.

“Kid...Thanatos,” Wizard 1, Bristow, radios in, “Let us do the killing. Your 50-cal won’t do anything without a hit to the canopy even against a normal jet, much less the armored canopies these bogies from their dark future are using. Over.”

Right, your Lunarian kit never did perform that strongly against physical barriers beyond light armor. You dismiss the weapon and focus on pressuring the enemy with your false appearance, shoving your signature into as much of their missile trails as possible, and for a few minutes of nail-biting action, as the HEAT missiles detonate all around you and occasionally into your shield, you succeed in drawing nearly of the fire towards the Bronze Wings, as they freely tear through the sky, tailing and shooting down the X-22s with maneuvers impossible for any man-made jet.

Double forward flips done by the aircraft curling into a ball, easy mode “Pugachev’s Cobras” performed by the Bronze Wing Typhoon simply fanning its wings outwards and braking with them. Abrupt directional changes midair as the drakes reorient their wing and tail thrusters at sharp angles. All of these would have torn a contemporary airframe apart...and the pilot within, come to think of it.

“Bristow, the G-Forces you...”

“Focus on the fight. We have the drake suits plugged in to our mounts and handling our blood flow. Over.”

Ah, so just like the bonded dragon riders in fantasy novels. You brace yourself as another wave of bandits show up on radar...and another...and another. Some with larger signatures than others.

“Come in. This is AWACS Firebird of the USAF 962nd Air Control Squadron. Requesting a status update on the battlespace. Over.”

“Firebird, this is RAF 423rd Squadron ‘Wizard’,” Bristow responds to the air support, “Increasing quantities of hostiles. They are manageable at the moment, but I’m afraid we can’t protect you yet if you come in. Over.”

You fall back to the position of the other two in your makeshift air squadron to consider your positioning against these new waves.

“Yo, Thanatos. ” Nue chimes in, “If my own previous experiences with military matters are correct, their approach indicates that they’re beginning to ignore you, especially since there seems to be a report of Awyrgan being shot down over Tokyo.”

“So they think that my lady is injured.” You glance at your armaments, “I could possibly requisition some heavier gear from the Americans, but the laws of physics would be working against my body.”

Sanae stares at you, then looks to the tablet she’s streaming over, then to the sheathed Clarent, “Thanatos, you have your master’s powers, right?”

“I’m currently animated by a mixture of her primordial waters and maintenance slivers.” You say, showing off one of the small lizards, glowing pink with soulstuff, patching up a scrape on your frame. “So a little bit yes, but not to her mastery and certainly not her great capacity.”

“So you can subvert living things into machinery, and sort of control them?”

“Not more than one. But yes.”

“You’re also a heavily armored knight in service to a lady, with a corrupted sword. Right?”

“Yes?”

“You watched or read Fate/Zero, right? As Ming? I know that one’s been translated to English.”

Nue looks quite lost on the Outsider conversation the two of you are having.

You check your radar. The second wave of bogies are getting closer, and Sanae’s suggestion is not a bad idea since your normal attacks aren’t doing much anyway. “I will need some help to catch one. These X-22s are nimble.”

“Ask a wind goddess for a favor then. Oh wait.” Sanae laughs, and then begins channeling a highly visible divine effect, the faith flowing through the internet and into the spell, “Tactician’s Miracle: Favorable Winds of the Red Cliffs.”

A living gust of air forms under you, and you find your movements significantly swifter, as the air augments your motions like a second exoskeleton. Now you can do what your lady can do, and close into melee with fighter jets.

“Now go, my disciple, and shatter these infidels with your ability to not die from a blessed bullet to the face.” Sanae half-joking speaks to the tablet as Nue adjusts her ability to cloak her, reasoning that you no longer need the disguise and, “I’ll need to focus on channeling this while you do your work.”

You nod, turn, and fly, straight at the leading formation of X-22s. They swerve to avoid you, but no longer can you only respond with shots. Instead, you trail the lead jet, forcing the others to break off lest they collide. A hail of haphazard autocannon fire rakes your back, and you have to swerve every so often to avoid a launched missile.

“Come on, just a little bit more.” You mutter in your head as the advanced thrusters on the X-22 keeps it just out of touch range, even with Sanae’s aid. You’re matching speeds, at least, and with every turn it makes you gain a bit more. If only your hand can extend...wait…

You send out the Lunarian fishing rod, now blackened and thickened with Awyrgan’s influence. It snares onto the side of the jet, with a pulse of your own energy to break the magic resistance conferred by the living pilot. You reel yourself in, grabbing ahold of the smooth surface of the fighter jet with your monstrous strength even as the air resistance threatens to tear you straight off.

You clamber your way to the cockpit, as the pilot just notices that something’s attached to his aircraft and looks up into your mechanical visage. He tries to shake you off with a clumsy loop, but to no avail, since your feet have dug into the gaps in the armor and your hands are steadily pounding their way through the canopy.

“Got one.” You call out into the radio as you crack a hole, scraping the metal skin off on the sharp glasslike (It’s not acrylic plastic? These future fighters have some weird design decisions) material in the process. All the better though, since the poisoned water in your veins now drips onto the pilot, who can only feebly attempt to push you away.

The depressurizing cabin thwarts even that effort.

“Sanae, I’m going to compleat this one, do you want to film this? It’s not safe for kids.”

“Command’s given me a cam feed through your Hunter’s Module, the stream’s good! Don’t worry about the kids.” She calls back. This also prompts some confused crosstalk from the USAF forces in the background.

“Alright then!” You cut up your arms some more on the canopy and grab ahold of the pilot’s helmet, letting the water seep and the small lizards crawl through the seals onto his head and shoulders. You cannot hear him over the sound of the onrushing air, but judging by the squirming motion, he’s probably screaming.

“Abzu, Styx. Freeze this soul, at the threshold of eternity.”

You have to close your eyes as the man’s soul comes into contact with your blood. A wave of memories come over you. Sweet, indulgent ones, these are, unlike the painful, cold, or downright nasty ones of Wu’s former victims of choice. A sunny afternoon playing ball with his father. A joyful birthday party with his many friends. A heartfelt celebration with his graduating class at high school...Seems like he’s merely a teenager playing at being a soldier, like most of the Saviors, you wager, given this being a trend.

Wu would have enjoyed this. You do not. This is just one more unfortunate soul who met a premature end. Nothing compared to the millions of dead your namesake and likely progenitor processed back then. His end is different, however, as his soul is now entrapped within a mechanizing body that he no longer fully controls, his blood in particular, rapidly converting to more of the poisoned water and lizards of your internals.

The aircraft was largely diving during all this, but you gained control fast enough to order him to pull up before it becomes unrecoverable. Turning it around, you then proceed to lock onto its allies, prompting concerned comments over the pilot’s radio. “George, George! Come in, are you alright?”

“I’m…NOT...I’m…NOT...alright.” Seems like some bit of the pilot’s personality is still fighting back. How did your lady do this again? Oh right. You carefully unsheathe Clarent, raise it over the breach in the canopy, and impale him in the spine.

Ah, much better. This fully compleats the boy in a matter of seconds, and locks away all resistance. Even better, with the magic of Clarent aiding the propagation, the waters spread through his flight suit and into the fighter jet’s internal fluid systems, giving you some insights over its internals, though frustratingly enough, you cannot modify it or even pilot it directly. Awyrgan was designed to mass produce entities, and even stretching her Tiamat aspect, she can only modify organics and latch on inorganics to such a base. There’s actually surprisingly little to work with on a pure machine.

“Stop talking to him! George is dead!” The radio on the plane crackles, then falls silent.

You consider making the pilot say something taunting to his former comrades through the radio, then think better of it and decide on a more straightforward message to draw fire. “Hello, enemies of Gensokyo. I, the Null Fiend, have commandeered this aircraft and its pilot. Lay down your arms or I will destroy you all.”

As soon as you finish, you fly the jet into the incoming formation of jets, and open fire with the cannons, landing a couple of shots but no critical damage. Flying past, you turn back to look, seeing that they have changed course, along with the next formation, and are trailing you. They are not however, opening fire.

Right, good guys would hesitate on shooting their friends. That makes your job of drawing attention away from the main battle area so the bombers can do their work harder. You make a sharp turn, and open up with another cannon run against a jet, and launch several of the missiles this time around as you have subverted the aircraft’s security measures against just this kind of thing. They fly true, and one finds its target, exploding in a cloud of smoke

Little effect. Not even a chunked wing or anything. You notice now that the mounted missiles are not singles, but pods more akin to unguided rocket systems. Trades a ton of warhead power for capacity, but if they’re firing HEAT rounds, what are they going to do?

Experimentally, you unload the missiles into the oncoming formation, emptying the pods as fast as your puppet allows. Some connect despite the evasion maneuvers executed in response, but the glancing hits on a fast aircraft, smaller than the size of a dragon. means that the molten superheated metal aren’t going to do much damage with the amount of air in the way. These are probably designed for dragonslaying, and dragonslaying only. So…

“Wizard 1, we can probably call in the faster attacker aircraft if they’re on standby. Confirmed that the missiles they use are not going to be very effective against them.” Did they seriously not expect conventional aircraft support? Sure the HEAT missiles can kill on a direct hit to a critical region but these are fighter jets moving at half the speed of sound. No way are they getting anything on a target smaller than a bomber or Awyrgan.

“Roger that. Over.”

They probably work as Air-to-ground systems, however. Following the blips on the ground radar, you dive towards a column of armored vehicles. A quick visual scan indicates the presence of Tannigrisnir-derived warbeasts, alongside conventional armored vehicles and...are those trolls?

Yes, trolls. The rock-skinned and leaf-covered Scandinavian cousins of the Russian leshy. They do not appear to be moving in concert with the rest. Instead they look like they are herded along by some unseen impulse, likely a subtle magic you can’t quite detect, their monstrous forms and hunched postures making for a strange sight against the regal procession of the regular Savior ranks.

They see you approaching, and like marionettes on strings the trolls fling themselves with abandon into the attack path of your commandeered fighter. Cannon rounds only chip their rocky hide, and missiles both lose lock-on and struggle to do much damage as their signatures somehow blot out the vehicles, likely with some sort of troll magic. As you loop back, you notice that only two or three of them seem to have collapsed in the attack run. Damn it.

“Wizard 1 to Mordred,” Bristow calls out as you pull back up towards the furball in the air, “These nugget pilots are just pulling loops on us, five-to-one. Even our drakes can’t get a clean shot in this situation with the sheer quantity of flares, and their cannon fire is actually threatening in such numbers. Over.”

“USAF Red Arrow Squadron here, cannot proceed with attack runs on ground forces. Same reason. Too many hostiles gumming up the target picture. Over.”

Are they not expecting the makeshift fighter pilots to do anything to your unit with the loadouts they’re using? Is Thor just sending them in as meatshields and letting their numbers and technology go to waste? Why aren’t they carrying proper AA missiles? Sure your lady and you will tank them all day, but at least they’ll be able to damage something.?

“Meatshield or no meatshield, it’s still a fighter jet, it just needs a better weapon….Nue!”

“I’m covering Sanae here, what are you thinking about?”

“Your bow! How much damage can you put out with it?”

“You want me to shoot ARROWS at these armored planes? They’d hit for sure, Yorimasa’s tale ensures that even Outside I can pull it off, but they’re still just iron arrows! I doubt even an oni can pierce it with this bow.”

“I’m only asking you because they can...wait, your bow can do that? Okay, that’s good enough.”

“If you have a way to exploit that...I can invoke bits of my...Yorimasa’s tale in the artifact”
Nue nervously replies as you latch her onto the commandeered jet with the fishing line, allowing her to work her wing tendrils into the airframe and stabilize herself. You throw up the shield in front of her to act as a windbreak, take the quiver she pulls out of the Ethereal Sheath, and incant.

The waters of Styx fills the dead wood of the shafts, causing them to swell, bloat and sprout ghostly grey roots and sickly leaves. You may not have the time to render flesh into ammunition, but wood is just as much dead organic matter as the body of a human. The waters of Styx know little difference.

“Undead arrows.” You proclaim as you hand it back over. “Fed on my lady’s poisonous waters. Wouldn’t have worked with inorganic materials.”

“Wasn’t it the opposite?”

“I think there was a mix-up in knowledge. She can CONTROL and MANIPULATE machinery, and REPRODUCE existent designs, but she has very little ability to improve on existing designs without somebody else giving her a blueprint - every part of her incubator was derived from extant Nazi Germany devices and scavenged examples of modern weaponry. With organic matter it’s the opposite, with little direct control, but offers a ton of potential for improvement once combined with machinery.

“Makes sense, but...How does this help?” Nue shouts back as she nocks one of the ghastly things. “Are you just testing this on the spot?”

“Yep!”

Nue shakes her head and chuckles in resignation, “Alright then you crazy automaton!” She shouts over the howling wind as she draws the bowstring, with sparks of magic flowing along the body of the weapon to give it more resistance and thus, more power, “Grudge Bow: The Bow of Genzanmi Yorimasa!”

The arrowhead immediately disappears from view, as you are on a supersonic jet, and only the faint trace of its magical signature on your Hunter’s Module confirms that it does find its way onto one of the jets tailing you.

“Looks like it stuck. To be honest, I have no idea it it will...”

The radio on your stolen ride flares alive again, “HELLSING TWO, MY CONTROLS HAVE LOCKED UP. THE NULL FIEND MUST HAVE INFECTED MY SYSTEMS…...Hellsing two! Eject now before the corruption spreads to you!...Damn it, how is he doing that? The Null Fiend shouldn’t have such precise tracking weapons!”

“If only Wu grabbed that Lunarian crossbow, grumble grumble.” You loudly mumble. “If just applying the water to the jets can lock them up I really should have gotten a sprayer or something/”

“You’re not going to get the same performance as my archery, Thanatos.” Nue’s developing a smug face, much to your dismay, “While I may not be a strong as I once was, I am still the Terror of Edo, with the strength to easily toss an arrow beyond the horizon...”

“NUE GET DOWN!” You shout, grabbing ahold of her and covering her with your armored wings and graviton shield as several Savior jets line up with your position and unload a hail of cannon rounds.

Their holy effects have even less effect on your current, purified form of the fallen demigod than before, and actually begin to veer before touching you. Still, you can’t risk Nue getting even grazed by any of that, and so you make sure to hold her until your enslaved pilot manages to get out of their firing zones in a series of evasive maneuvers.

“Alright, we’re safe. Uh...oh right.” You hastily let go of Nue before her thrashing threatens to break your arm joints. “You okay there?”

“Your hands were on my chest.” She complains, avoiding your gaze. Her face is redder than her right set of blade wings.

“Sorry, Lady Houjuu. It’s just the first place I grabbed onto.” You shrug,“I’ll try to avoid it next time. We need to keep firing.”

“...Wow, you really are a robot.” Nue remarks at your unemotional reply, before drawing back and loosing another live arrow. Soon, jets are falling from the skies like snow, the force of her arrows and the attractiveness of their infused water doing the work that the Saviors’ own missiles cannot. It’s not quite as fast as an actual AA weapon system, you think, but Yorimasa’s bow can’t miss against flying monsters...apparently.

“So how does it shoot loads of arrows like in your spellcard?”

“That’s just the danmaku I used, since the actual ability obviously breaks the rules.”

Sanae’s happily yapping away on the stream about all of this while your jet twists and turns amongst the clouds at several hundred meters per second, frequently pulling moves that would’ve killed mortal men with sheer G-Force. Good thing the puppeted George’s (you’d ask for his last name, but you doubt you’d get an answer, or was his last name ‘George’?) organs are mostly composed of steel and river water now.

Following her narration, you move your position to give the audience a dramatic over the shoulder view of Nue as she looses the arrows, which is all you can really do outside of keeping her free of bullet holes and refreshing the ammo.

Bristow radios in, “Wizard here, The enemy’s ‘human chaff and flares’ are thinning out. We can handle them effectively now. Directing the remainder of the USAF’s forces over. Keep on watch. Over.”

“Casualties?”

“One of the our drakes got nailed in the head by a million-to-one lucky shot. Charles bailed out but there’s a 50/50 chance since his heart might’ve given out. Thanatos, do not resuscitate. Over.”

“You don’t really need to tell me that.” You glance downwards. “You think we can go help with the ground forces? Suwako and Yuuka have locked the parameter down pretty tight but we have no way to attack them.”

“That’s…*huff*....the Americans’ job.” Nue pants, dismissing the bow as she falls into a kneel, “I have maybe thirty more shots left in me.”

“The magic is that draining?”

Nue glares back as she catches her breath, her wings twitching, “I am putting out enough kinetic energy into these things to hit aircraft. After all, the accuracy is meaningless without enough force behind it.”

“So, you want me to fill you up?” You offer, “I have a reservoir of lifeforce stored up.”

“NO….I mean, save it for emergencies, please.”

“Alright then, I can see why you don’t want it.” You take stock of the current amount of aerial enemies with your Hunter’s Module, and redirect the X-22 to outside of the current engagement zone. “Wizard squadron can handle the enemy now until more reinforcements come. So you can take a break while we just cruise a bit here. You want snacks or a shoulder rub or something?”

“Yes to the first.” She replies, grabbing the cold fried chicken Awyrgan gave to you (where did she get that again?) and tearing into it.

The radio buzzes, “Ground command here, ritual is at 50% to completion. Enemy forces are attacking the barrier and we can’t really get a good visual on the outside situation. Over.”

“We’re getting even and the USAF air support’s doing its work. Just gotta hope they don’t suddenly throw a massive reinforcement wave or something...uh, over.”

Just as you say that, a different line opens up, “USAF AWACS Firebird here with the ground attack squadrons, we are detecting a massive entity approaching on radar. Seems to be the size of a battleship, but at an altitude of 7000 meters. Over….NO, also detecting multiple other contacts approaching! Those are missiles! Cruise Missiles!”

“Wizard squadron here. Requesting backup from Gensokyo. Over.”

Just as HE says that, a flash of light springs from the hellgate, and a massive red-and-white oarfish emerges, wreathed in lightning, and with what appears to be a comms setup and large visor crudely proofed with rubber and hastily strapped on its head.

Another different line opens up, this time with a completely different voice, speaking in Japanese.

“Iku Nagae, joining the fight to protect the young lady.” She says in a language that most of the Americans don’t understand, provoking more confused crosstalk, “Relaying a message from Commander Toramaru: (In English) ‘Predicted heavy supernatural enemy air due to suppression inside, rest assured, we will be sending all spare forces your way beginning with this unit.’ ”

“Oh hi Iku!” Tenshi cuts in on the radio line from the ground forces, “Haven’t seen you in a week. I had sooo much fun outside in this ‘America’ place, like you wouldn’t believe! There’s this food called a ‘corn-dog’ that tastes as good as the peaches we grow...”

“Young master, please, concentrate on your duties.” Iku replies, in the tone of somebody who’s repeated herself countless times prior. “American command unit, orders?”

“Understood.” Captain Ferguson, the one commander here that actually understands Japanese, answers, “Identify and destroy incoming projectiles marked on your...is that a full TV monitor on there? Wow...headset. Kochiya will provide you with the necessary faith. Over.”

“Heard that.” Sanae responds as she switches the stream from your helmet cam to Iku’s. “Alright everyone, this here is Gensokyo’s most hardworking messenger of Heaven, an ‘angel’ if you’re watching East of China. She’s here to bring the wrath of the skies upon our enemies by the grace of Gensokyo’s creator...”

Storm clouds materialize in seconds, in where once was blue skies. In flash after flash, lightning crackles in the distance and the missiles disappear from radar. Several Savior jets break off from the furball with Wizard Squadron and try to attack Iku’s large body, but their missiles and explosive rounds simply detonate a long ways away from their already meager effective radius, fried by her own aura of electricity.

“Why didn’t just send her in the first place?” Nue grumbles, “Looks like Sanae could just pump her up to kill everything. Didn’t know that the oarfish can scale up her abilities to that extent.”

“She was busy. Like Shou said, people are being dispatched as soon as they’re available. Also, you and I are here just in case there’s a non-missile weapon that she can’t avoid, which is important since I don’t know how tough Iku is.”

“What, like a giant version of your railgun? Or a Master Spark style magic attack?”

“We might not be able to stop that, especially if the enemy vessel is a ship-sized...uh oh...” You quickly shout into the radio, “Iku! If you can, hold position behind a mountain peak! It’s highly likely they have a high-powered unguided weapon system and we probably can’t stop that! Over.”

“Got it. Moving. Say, you’re Ming...Thanatos, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You have not met any celestials since you arrived in Gensokyo, right?”

“Yep. Never had the opportunity to visit heaven, and Tenshi was apparently in the US.”

“Hmm, strange considering your tendencies, and you really should have....back to the task on hand: The occupation of their ultraviolet projector freed up the heavy-hitters in the SDM and provided a constant stream of disposable troops to the frontline. Forces that were holding positions, like me, are freed up in turn to other positions. We should be getting more friends over here soon, I know the Hinanawis have requested to come protect their daughter.

“So we should be hitting their central fortress soon near Youkai Mountain?”

“As soon as the blizzard is dispelled, we will be dropping everything to take it out. Yukari’s orders. Hopefully we could then help Reimu end this...war.”

“Miss Nagae?” Nue asks,. “You sound unsure.”

The lines crackle as Iku adjusts the lines, “I want to talk to you people specifically: Sanae, Nue, and the vessel. All three of you have been involved since the beginning, right? Has anything seemed...off about the Saviors’ invasion?”

“Other than the fact that they’re deploying untrained volunteers? Not really,” You answer, “Their tactics and strategy seem coherent enough for their end goal of sealing off Gensokyo.”

“Is it? As a messenger for the Dragon Palace, someone who was there witnessing the Border’s details being hammered out with the Dragon himself, and someone who also, rather regrettably, sat out most of this incident, I might have the luxury of a different perspective than you younger earth-bound folk. Quite simply, if they have the privilege to time travel and vast resources, why now? At a point where their enemies are mature enough to put up resistance? Why not simply sabotage the Border’s creation back in the Meiji Era? Why not strangle the first Hakurei in her crib?”

The second option would be distasteful to good guys, you assume, but the first option is definitely something you would do.

“Yukari shared the same concern with the other members in the “inner circle” mentioned that they’ve been trying to eliminate you, Thanatos, since before their presence became fully known. Why didn’t they try to assassinate or kidnap Reimu instead before the Border possessed her?”

“They did nail Nitori and Keine. Not fully though and I’m not even sure it was intentional. That’s what Shou told me, anyway” Sanae says, “Maybe because well, it’s Reimu? Even i won’t want to face her outside of a danmaku fight, as much as I hate to admit it.”

“You are hardly an easier target and much less important in the grand scheme of things. Sure your captured paladin told us that you and the western dragon became a terrible anti-hero weapon in the future, but right now it really looks like all they did was hurt themselves going after the equivalent of a training dummy stuffed with iron nails.”

“Harsh, but not inaccurate.The only real impact Ming had in the greater course of things was saving Nue and Momiji, and only the second one wasn’t caused by collective incompetence.” Nue bonks you over the head with her trident for that as you begin reconsidering Ming’s memories of the past week and so. “And if they knew that Lady Awyrgan and I were geared as hero killers...why did they send empowered humans after me instead of a drone like Arcturus?”

Something doesn’t add up.

“USAF.” The AWACS calls out over the general comms channel, “That giant signature is getting closer. It doesn’t seem very fast”, but our drakes’ long range missiles don’t seem to be having any effect. Requesting a visual feed from Mordred.”

“Got it.”

“I have to stay here and keep feeding Iku to shoot down the missiles.” Sanae says, ”If you two engage, neither of us can help you at that distance.”

It did not take long for you and Nue, to reach the location of the signature over Denali State Park, carefully angling your approach all the while in regards to the sun to milk the maximum amount of invisibility from her ability. As the radar indicated, it is massive.

It is also not a giant aerial battleship, though it is definitely the size of one. In the front, are lashed two shaggy white goats the size of small buildings, trotting as if the air was solid ground. They pull a...chariot? It’s definitely a rounded-thing with two wheels on each side, and it is being pulled by animals. Both the goats and the chariot are wreathed in lightning, far greater in intensity than Iku’s, and

Oh, now it makes sense. Thor had a divine chariot, and you haven’t seen the original Tannigrisnir and Tannignjostr enter the battle yet. Figures that since he never pulled it out, it was sitting in reserve as a backup weapon.

But Thor wasn’t that much larger than normal, and this thing is, as the radar signature indicates, the size of a battleship. Can Thor get even bigger than his current eight-foot tall state?

The chariot’s frame had also been stretched, elongated, and fitted with numerous weapon hardpoints. A series of pods, mounting cruise missiles, takes up the space where normally the (five stories tall) driver would be.

“You think it spotted us, Thanatos?”

A TLS shot clips your X-22 in the wing, answer Nue’s question. You immediately begin evasive maneuvers, trying to neutralize any potential lock-ons your craft may have caught, before another laser sears through the cockpit, splitting the jet in two and severing your left leg.

“Nue! Oh, you got off.” You sigh in relief as you spot the ball of unidentifiable light darting your way. Looking down, your jaw drops as you see the compleat form of the pilot still intact, falling downwards with a large gash in him left by Clarent.

“Did that high power laser shot somehow avoid friendly fire? That’s insane. Well, it’s magical, but to think someone would deliberately set aside magical power just to avoid friendly fire on a pinpoint weapon that is nearly impossible to miss?”

“That or it doesn’t hurt humans.” The ball of light suggests, before shifting back into her usual form.

You glance at your new stump. “Right. Sanae, Iku, Wizard, we’ve got visuals. Our hijacked craft is down but it’s not targeting us anymore. Maybe our signature is too small. Thoughts?”

“...I can SEE the divine aura through your feed,” Iku says, her voice trembling“Thanatos. I don’t think any of us here has anything that can handle it.”

“Can we complete the ritual before it reaches the AO?”

“No, it’s going to reach engagement distance in ten minutes, we still need another half hour. You can buy some time, right?”

“Uh...”

[ ] If it’s not targeting human-sized targets, maybe I can sneak onboard, perhaps with Nue or Sanae backing me up with Iku stalling the missiles
[ ] Perhaps I can hijack some more X-22s and threaten to crash them into the chariot, to force them to focus me again...

A loud explosion cuts off your thoughts.

You stare, dumbstruck, as the chariot’s missile pod section explodes, sending Tannigrisnir and Tannignjostr into screaming bleats the shake the forests beneath them. Another set of explosions, and the front of the chariot cracks, allowing Thor’s goats to fly off in panic.

You continue watching, silent, as the chariot plummets to the ground. Upon impact, it annihilates a good swathe of the Alaskan wilderness as the munitions within go up in a blazing inferno, further fueled by the now-unrestrained divine magic used in its construction. The firefighters are going to have a hell of a job.

“Did...did it just have a ammo rack accident or something?”

“No idea,” Nue replies, just as confused as you are. “That was...anticlimactic?”

Judging by the overall tone of the crosstalk, everyone else on your side seems to be feeling the same.

“Captain Ferguson here, uh...I guess if no more other aerial bogies are coming in, you should head back to help clear the ground forces. I’m not sure how long Suwako’s walls can hold and the trolls are screwing up missile targeting. Over.”

As you both turn to fly back, you look over your shoulder, and suddenly catch the glint of something white and shiny just floating in front of the sun. It’s not moving, nor is it giving off a significant radar presence. You however recognize that glint, as it was one of the last things you ever saw, before become what you are now.

Did he blow up the chariot, his own side’s weapon? The clean and sudden way it got destroyed seemed like his handiwork on you and your lady.

But should you ask him?


[ ] Go towards Arcturus
[ ] Head back immediately

=====
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The boat docks on the other side of the Sanzu. You stumble out of it, tripping and falling on your face as you no longer have hands to catch yourself with.

“Keep moving.” Komachi sternly orders, dragging you back upright with her scythe and prodding you with the sharp end. Wordlessly, you fall in with the horde of spirits departing from their boats, stumbling along on spectral feet.

“Yo, Ming.” A familiar voice calls to you from the side. You turn and see two people from the very beginning walking alongside you.

“Professor? Rikako? Why are you two here...oh...oh no.”

“Yeah, our Flower Tank 2.0 got hit in the fuel tank by a missile.” Rikako painfully manages a smile as she talks, trying to conceal her misery, “What a shame.”

“I...I failed. No...why am I caring? Ugh...” The emotions spike out of your head. A queer sensation. Your chest and stomach hurts.

Conner, on the other hand, is forcing a blank expression, “It’s not your fault.”

“Oh, you’re dead too? Looks like I lost that bet to the butcher.” Another familiar voice from early on reaches you. A winged figure.

“M...Mystia?” You step back as you see the night sparrow songstress before you, in the same funerary robes as the rest. “But you’re not...”

“I had to defend my home in the forest, but I wasn’t that good of a fighter and I got a sword in my neck for the trouble. Good thing Kyouko wasn’t with me, that girl would’ve given her own life first.” She smiles sadly. “How did you get here?”

“Got killed by another one of their top dogs, a weird metallic thing...Sssh”, You bend over, pressing your stumps against your chest, which is experiencing a dull ache. “...ooh.”

It’s a weird feeling. One that only came up after that professor implanted Thanatos into you. You had felt happiness, true happiness, in death before, whether it be at a funeral or by your own hands. You’re not unaware of what it is, you are sad.

Death is a beautiful thing, so why do you think it’s sad? After all, life is suffering, and death is the reward for that suffering.

“Why are you hurting, killer?” Komachi softly asks from behind you, in a kinder tone than before.


[ ] “I didn’t get to kill them myself....I guess that’s why I feel weird?”
[ ] “I still cared about people I like...I think, my mind’s rather foggy.”
[ ] “I don’t know, Komachi.”

[x] Go towards Arcturus

The automaton stays perfectly still in the air, like a floating statue. A gleaming figure of snow in the Alaskan skies.

It does not move as you approach. However, your radio suddenly crackles as you get within normal speaking range for people.

“Thanatos, do you wonder sometimes if people do not wish for death?” Arcturus asks, in its inhuman robotic voice, though not lacking in inflection.

“What sort of a question is that?” You reply, “Of course they do not.”

“No, you mistaken my question. I was not referring to the act or experience of dying, but the whole institution of death, the very fact that a living being can simply cease to be living, regardless if they were capable of living indefinitely or not.”

“...I don’t know? Most humans accept it as an unpleasant fact of life, but many seek to delay it...I know three exceptions to the law of death in Gensokyo, but they are not truly living and I have not really questioned if they think it is a curse or a boon. Many seems to think the Hourai Elixir is a curse though.”

“So...things have never changed. Now, tell me, Thanatos,” The automaton turns towards you, “Do you think that those that do hate death, those that rail at their untimely demise with every particle of their existence, can not only persist as a spirit, but claw their way back to true life without the consent of the Underworld or another outside force?”

You shudder, “That is not a pleasant experience for the soul, I would know, I dragged some back, and it’s not life you get. Even your enemy and my commander, Yukari, cannot do it for her close friend, who persists as something more concrete than a spirit, but is definitely not living. So I highly doubt any dead soul has swam back under their own power….other than maybe deities that also control the underworld, like the Christian consensus.”

“That is because they did not fully wish to be back. If even a tiny bit of yourself is complacent with the comfort, the calmness, of death, you’ll leave that bit and more behind when you try to crawl back from the veil.”

“So...are you saying that you rejected death so fully that you came back intact?”

The automaton makes a shrugging motion, “That, or I no longer remember what I lost.”

“So you ARE a human remote controlling this droid. Unless you forgot that you were not a robot.”

Electronic crackles, a pause, “I am still a human as far as I know, the opposite of you, who discarded the parts you considered human, to the soul you considered a pathetic host.”

The fluids in your head flow, turgid. The metallic slivers of your lady do not move. “What did you just say?”

“You pretend as though you were barely in control of the troubled young man you attached yourself to, yet you took the opportunity of your symbiosis to purify your heart of the attachments you saw as weaknesses...”

“Hold on, Arcturus. I would like you to back up your statements here.” You protest, “As far as I know, you are one of our main enemies, and you did kill both my host and my lady. Why should I believe you? And why would you be capable of reading my mind? Unless, of course, that is an ability of your’s.”

“My Dominion is purely over the control of metal, so a satori I am not. It is because, Thanatos, I knew...will know you well, over two centuries in the future. That statement about your self-purification is inference, but I would give myself a 100:1 odds on that.”

“...”

“Also, you are mistaken about my allegiance here. I may be a leader of the Saviors and one of the Lux Pacifica’s Seven, but I am on your side...”

“Okay, I find that hard to believe.”

“Not on the side of Gensokyo, mind you. On YOUR side. Thanatos. Not on Yukari’s, not even on Awyrgan’s or Wu’s. On your’s...assuming ‘you’ did not succeed in your wish already, of course, seeing how the ‘you’ here is just a fragment of the whole.”

“What, because we are both sapient machines? Wait, but you said you’re still a human remote controlling this drone? And what ‘wish’? I have none but my current duty.”

What you presume to be a chuckle, managed in his electronic voice, comes through the radio as Arcturus casually drifts over and leans his featureless porcelain face over to your ear.

“You’ve succeeded then in your wish for freedom, and no, Thanatos, it is not due to our current choices in avatar.” He whispers, the words coming out of a speaker in his head, “It’s because I met the same pebble-skipping girl you did, at the beaches of what is currently known as Shanghai. She hasn’t succeeded yet even in my time.”

“ARCTURUS, YOU CANNOT BE…” No he is not lying. There is absolutely no way he would know of this or be aware of its significance if he didn’t meet personally meet her as well. Not even Awyrgan-Tiamat can discern its neutered significance from the other memories etched into your heart.

It’s just a girl skipping pebbles on the beach, after all.

The automaton turns away, switching back to the short-range radio channel. “This war is about to turn messier. And as we both met that...thing, you can probably guess now why I’m doing what I did.”

“I don’t know who you are, Arcturus, and I can’t guess since I did in fact offload the context for that chunk of my memories to the boy. I have a good feeling though about your intentions now.”

“Exactly as she would have wanted you to do. Just trust your heart on this and let us set the stage.”

And with that, he’s gone. Flew off so quickly that you didn’t register his movement. One moment the platinum angel was shining under the sun, and the next millisecond, there was just the cold blue sky.

====

“Seeing as he didn’t kill you on sight this time, something’s changed, right?” Nue dryly asks as you glide back to her.

“No, Nue. Nothing’s changed. Nothing ever will change. Maybe.” Arcturus’s message is still numbing your mind with its implications. “Let’s just get back to the HAARP site.”

“Thanatos?” Nue asks as you two being to fly, “You look disturbed. Did Arcturus insult you or something?”

“What? No! He was very polite. It’s just that…” You silently gesture at your radio earpiece and make a cutting gesture, “It’s an answer to Iku’s question.”

You wait until you’re back over the HAARP site, witnessing Wizard Squadron slowly but surely gaining air supremacy as the Savior reinforcements begin to buckle under the pressure, especially since the hammer part of their hammer-and-anvil strategy had been annihilated by an erstwhile ally.

Nue shuts off her radio as Sanae approaches, and motions for the shrine maiden to do so as well. “Alright, Thanatos, what’s the secret?”

“Arcturus is why this invasion has been so inefficient. He’s not on our side, but he’s not on Thor’s either. I have no idea what his actual goal is, but given the shared...experiences he revealed to have with me, it’s guaranteed to be perpendicular to this current conflict.”

Both of the girls just look at you, confused. “Elaboration?”

“It’s a context-less memory. So...”

======

You rest the handgonne on the sand. Your joints creak from overuse and lack of lubrication. You need oiling, but out here on this shore, far from any settlement but a small and desperately poor fishing village, it is a tall order to find any such source.

And besides, you have not finished your work yet.

You raise the handgonne, and aim it at the girl, who continues to skip stones into the sea without care. You fire a poor shot, through a fouled barrel that you haven’t had any time to clean this day.

The bullet glances off the girl, flying into and raising a small cloud of sand.

You dig into your pack. No more powder and shot.

“You done yet?” You turn to see that, after ignoring you throughout the day, the girl is facing you and talking to you. “Or are you going to keep flicking those metal balls at me?”

“Unrecognized...celestial entity...Prepare for...termination...”

You incant for the river of Phlegethon to fill your weapon and swing the tanegashima at her head, only for it to bounce off like hitting armor. That shouldn’t happen. That only happens with jiangshi with no life to give. This one is clearly physically alive.

She looks slightly more annoyed.

“If you’re the one that’s been ending all those hermits in this country, I’m disappointed. A mere metal sculpture with no true will of its own. Tell me, you who has given no name.” The girl steps over and wrenches the gun out of your hands, the anti-divine nature of your construction having no effect on her burst of magic. “Why are you doing this?”

“Our harmonious and righteous reason is too important to be handed to the likes of you.”

“Hmm...” She strokes her chin, “Let me rephrase this question, what is it that you desire most?”

“To serve the great...no, I will not fall for your deception, unrighteous one!”

“Mmhmm...I see.” She tosses the gun into the surf, letting sea water into the barrel, “I do not care about who you serve. But is that what you really want?”

“Yes!”

“You replied too quickly for that to be the truth. Here,” She hands you a handful of pebbles. “Throw these into the ocean, however you want. Then answer again.”

You cautiously examine the rocks, before noting no trace of magic and taking them. “I have no idea what your ploy is, unrighteous one. This is a child’s pastime.”

“It is. If you do it and answer my question. I will let you take me to the Yanwang...perhaps you know them as the Yama, considering your armor style...for judgment.”

You do not exactly have many options, being out of ammo and options, so with much hesitation, you begin throwing the pebbles into the ocean.

“This is pointless.” You growl, as the third pebble plunks into the waves.

“Just like your slaughtering spree through China?”

“That is for a greater purpose! Once again, an undignified being such as you can not understand!”

“That is correct, I do not.” A few more moments where you continue throwing rocks in silence, before the girl speaks up again “But do you understand?”
“I do not need to understand, I only need to follow, for that is what I was created for. To slaughter unauthorized celestial beings.”

======

“So you do remember you past existence’s purpose?” Sanae exclaims.

“Past? I’m an autonomous control system. My purpose is quite literally engraved in the heart. Without context though, just being a thing that kills ‘unauthorized celestials’ tells me nothing.”

======


“So you blindly trust your creators, slaving away at their command?”

You snap, “Foul being, my creators have authority over the heaven and the earth. Nothing within the rim of the sky nor the edge of the world is beyond their grasp. How can you possibly deny their righteousness and virtue?”

Half of the pebbles have been thrown now.

“Who defined their righteousness and virtue that they rule by?”

“The very nature of the world reflects their devotion to the Way of the world. They flow like water and govern with virtue and kindness.”

“If that is true, why are they telling you to bash in the heads of defenseless men, women and children?”

“For usurping the natural order of things and corrupting the hearts of humans around them, these evildoers must be eliminated and sent down to the Yan-Wang for judgment.”

“Are they evildoers though?” You become aware that the girl is floating right behind you, her mouth close to your iron ears. “It sounds like the governor of the world that you serve shaped the world to their needs, and claimed that as justification for themselves. I assume that they are celestial beings themselves?”

“...Yes.”

A pebble bounces on the surface. You realize that your hand skipped the stone without you realizing.

“So why are these celestial beings so qualified that they can declare other celestial beings unauthorized? I have heard the messages your targets have preached, about equality for all people, about radical change, about the need for progress over tradition. All of them fly in the face of your lord, but they sit in the Heavenly Palace from above without being affected by their own teachings in the mortal world. As far as I knew, the people who followed these ‘evildoers’ found hope and joy in their messages.”

“Because they are substituting short-sighted emotions and material gains for virtue!”

“Is this virtue what you want though, Thanatos?”

The shock of your old name being used cause your body to seize up, and the pebble to bounce seven times before sinking.

“Are you happy with killing the poor individuals trying to make the world a better place against the greater order? I will not pretend that I care about the people of this country, even if they do carry my name in a small fable or lesser myth, but snuffing them out like that isn’t what I feel most people consider pleasant.”

“It’s the...right thing to do.”

“To donate their lives in the pursuit of a higher morality? Is that a process you approve of?”

“Argh...” You angrily turn and throw a pebble at her head, just to see it bounce off and the girl unfazed by your action. Unfamiliar, ancient emotions, engraved in your heart, flare up, and the runes controlling your actions begin to fray.

“If you yourself are not happy about this state of affairs, what’s keeping you from doing your job more thoroughly?”

The heat stops. “What are you talking about? You are not going to try persuading me to stop like the others?”

The girl takes the last pebble from your hand, and throws it far into the sky to the west, enough that you cannot see it go down before it fades from your view, “No. I am saying that you should trust your heart for the job. And your heart is pointing over there, isn’t it?”

You stare at the empty sky where the pebble flew, your core throbbing at the mere consideration of the expansion in scope. “Yes...yes it is.”


======

“That’s it. That’s the story engraved on the heart of Thanatos.”

“To be honest, I have no idea what any of that was about.” Sanae remarks. “It probably makes more sense with some other things you may have neglected to bring up, but all we know is that your past incarnation killed celestials and hermits considered ‘unauthorized’.”

“Maybe it’s because we’re Japanese?” Nue suggests, “That was clearly in China, but I can’t quite tell the era nor the setting that well, since I’ve never been there outside of short stays.”

“Yeah, it’s mostly that Arcturus clearly described and repeated some of the phrases the girl in that story used, so I trust that he did meet her.”

“Or is her. We don’t know who’s piloting that drone.”

“Good point. I don’t think Arcturus gave me enough new information to make any decisions though, so let’s just continue with our fight until we can get Reimu down.”

The three of you look down at the current state of the AO. While Wizard is handling the situation in the air quite well, the USAF has been unable to do much to dislodge the ground forces, due to the use of sacrificial Norse trolls to shield them from guided ordnance.

“Lady Iku,” You hear Bristow call through the radio, “Requesting lightning strikes on the ground forces. One of the soldiers on the ground says that Scandinavian trolls are afraid of lightning. Over.”

A peal of thunder in the clear sky, and a bolt of lightning strikes the ground, frying a troll. The other trolls around it do not react.

“Lightning appears to not frighten them, Sir Bristow.” Iku replies, “I will run out of the faith Lady Kochiya is supplying me with if I continue.”

“Of course. Ugh, expecting the minions of a thunder god to be afraid of lightning is a little too optimistic. Lady Kazami, how is the wall integrity? Over.”

“For the remaining duration of the ritual? It will hold. Not afterwards though, unfortunately for the American humans here.” Yuuka answers, her old “thorned flower” tone creeping back. Angry yelling from some of those Americans can be heard in the background. “O~Thanatos, would you be a dear and help us clear out the artillery?”

“Back into the grind? Back into the grind.” You mutter as you dive down, aiming for a fortified artillery post.

You wonder if the context you discarded into Ming has affected his experience in Higan.

[x] “I still cared about people I like...I think, my mind’s rather foggy.”

“...Then perhaps there is still hope for you, Thanatos.” Komachi says, her voice notably kinder than before.

“That’s...not...my name?” You mutter, confused.

“‘Wu Zhenguo’, then, what your term yourself to be.”

She leads you onwards through the gentle garden of Higan, seemingly uncaring that your acquaintances have broken from the line of souls to follow along. You note, with some additional pain in your chest, that even more souls break off as you pass by to follow.

“Komachi? What’s...going on?”

“Your trial has been given a higher priority by a foreign authority of Hell.”

“What’s so special about me? I’m...just one more worthless soul...”

“You know very much why.”

The courthouse of the Yama lies ahead, an imposing edifice of finely sculpted wood and stone among the endless expanse of flowers. There is no sound but for a calm, warm wind, not an omnious bell-toll or temple music you expect from such an establishment.

A pair of figures dressed similar to Komachi guard the entrance, holding staffs of iron that you feel could dissipate your sense of self by just a touch. They give a slight bow in acknowledgement to Komachi and the souls streaming in after her.

For you, they sort of freeze and take a step back.

You continue into the courtroom. Komachi herds you in front of an iron cage, hesitates, and then nudges you towards the normal “defendant’s” stand to the side. She lets down your severed hands in front of you on the rail, and allows you to reattach them, with the threat of her scythe over you.

To the side of you, a series of desks and benches positioned on terraces bear down upon you. Sharp-eyed shinigami scribbling furiously with ink and paper share their seats with a curious sort of fairy wearing white robes and carrying torches on their belts. The souls behind you find positions on the back of the courtroom. It is clear that this place had no need for an audience, a jury, a witness, or even a true prosecutor.

The one who is all of those, Eiki Shiki, stares down on you from a fairly high judge’s bench, positioned not too short to be comforting but also not too tall as to be indifferent. Her blue eyes are polished, almost mirror-like, so you can catch a hint of your reflection even at this distance.

Another one stands alongside her. A tall redhead with a really silly hat, even by Gensokyean standards, which is some sort of fez topped by a orb nearly the size of her head, chained to two others, one of which resembles Earth. The rest of her outfit stands starkly in contrast with the traditional outfits of the rest of the room, being an unapologetically post-modern getup with a dark t-shirt labeled “Welcome to Hell“ in English and a vinyl skirt.

“Black.” Is the first word Eiki utters, chucking a punishment rod painted as such directly at your head. Despite you no longer having nerves, it hurts like crazy, and you spend a good ten minutes sprawled over the stand in pain.

As soon as you barely recover, you hear another “Black”, and is promptly sent back into a pain-filled daze.

“....That’s enough, Shiki.” The other woman advises just as you see the Yama raise a third rod, her face remaining stoic even though her throwing arm is trembling with rage.

“You are correct, Hecatia, I may have been overeager in...judgment.” Her tone, professional and stern, holds no hint of her true feelings. “Defendant, you understand very well why I am going to sentence you to Hell for eternity with no reprieve, correct?”

“For the murders?”

You see her eye twitch. “...Once again, defendant, do you understand why you are being sent to Hell for eternity?”

“For the murders...for the murders of those innocent animals and children. I...I do not think any of my other sins quite compare to those.”

A heavy thud resonates throughout the courtroom as Eiki slams the third rod so hard it breaks in half. “Defendant THANATOS, you are sinful on multiple counts of murder, which pales in comparison to the OTHER charges, which include several hundred deicides, causing the deaths of over two hundred thousand celestials and hermits, destruction of the Heavenly Palace of China, and treason.”

The spirits spectating behind you begin chattering.

“Eh?” You wrack your memories, only to dredge up some vague recalls of someone else’s. “I...I don’t think I am Thanatos. I only received his powers.”

“See, I told you he ground his own memories away into Mist.” Hecatia sighs, “As a higher goddess of Hell, I move to take the criminal to recess for further interrogation.”

“As you suggest.”

A goddess of Hell above the Yama? Does that mean that her name is only a slight modification of...Hecate?

What’s she here doing a whole hemisphere away? Oh right...Thanatos.

But you’re not Thanatos?

======

“Err…this seems a little extreme?”

The room only has three walls. To the right side of you is a cliff, stretching down for hundreds of meters before terminating in a sea of fire. From within you can hear the distant sounds of anguished souls being tormented within, their spectral forms lacking any burnable nerves to numb the agony. You occasionally catch a glimpse of hulking kishin marching among the flames, dragging any soul trying to clamber onto the cliff back down.

The opposite side of the room is a set of bars, designed to allow the spirits who knew you in life to freely look through. They look just as confused as you are.

To your front, two rulers of Hell glare daggers at you. You know that type of gaze from your parents in life very well: “Say the right thing or we’ll punish you.”

“I...I admit I am Thanatos?”

The room slightly tilts to the right. You scream as the chair you are bound to slides to the edge of the table. Eiki furrows her brow.

“Normally, we would call in the spirits of your victims to testify, as you have been housing them in your body as fuel. However, it appears that they have possessed what’s left of your body and are continuing to do your job, so that is not an option.”

“What do...you guys want?”

Hecatia stands up and places her arms on the table as the room tilt back, “To have you fully realize what you attempted to forget. Let’s begin with the first discrepancy: If you are not Thanatos, than how come you held his heart?”

“They were...given to me...by somebody who pretended to be a professor at my school. He showed me that he knew of my murders, pried the heart out of his body and then placed it inside me....actually, he even suppressed the memory of that procedure to me.”

“Mmhmm, do you recall that person’s name?”

You struggle to remember. Their features are largely a haze, but they had a desk nameplate, “Yi, his name was Yi.”

The bars on the left lower. “Felix Conner,” Eiki asks the spirit who sheepishly walks in as his name is called, “Could you verify this information?”

“Yi? Hmm....Yes, there is a Professor Yi, but he was in the Arts Department, not the Engineering Sciences Department of me and Zhenguo.”

“That is because the encounter never happened.” The mirror flickers, and replays a scene...from Conner’s perspective. It is a recollection of him drinking along with some other faculty and students. From time to time, you see yourself from his perspective, passed out on the bar and mumbling about Touhou. Then, you see yourself awake, and sure enough:


“Ha, ha, Zhenguo, you alive?”

“Whaa…?” You look up and see the counter in front of you laden with bottles, a rough hand slaps you on the back.

“You were jabbering on about how you wanted to visit Japan just to see if some fairy land is real. Ha ha ha! You had way too much to drink, seeing how you passed out for a little bit there.”

Seeing the smiling faces of your professor and school mates around you, you remember that silly thing you’ve been mulling over and how you blurted it out after you tongue was loosened by three bottles of vodka.

“Hey Zhenguo, don’t I recall you passing out after one glass of wine!” One of the freshmen calls out from down the bar as he admires the evidence of your bar tab, “Wow, how did you stay up for that much?”

“Practice and a bit of conditioning, ain’t that the pie?” Your professor laughs as he pats your back again.

“What are you saying,” You sigh, a bit annoyed, “I’ve always been like this, Professor Conner.”


“So it was...all a dream? Then what about the other weird thing that happened to me? The flames?”

“Symptoms of your true identity beginning to manifest, is what it was.” Eiki states while adjusting the mirror, “Thanatos, Conner, do you recall what Operation Flaming Vodka was?”

You wrack your memories for a clue. “I remember, fighting shadowy ninjas? I’m missing a lot of context around that memory.”

“Err, you really don’t remember? Wu?” Conner looks at you strangely, “Operation Flaming Vodka is the annual event where the chemistry department gathers around in an old building and ignore the safety guidelines to ‘accelerate’ research. You took like twenty different experimental medicines at once during that and starting pulling off Bruce Lee-level moves and climbing walls, all the while yelling about ghosts and stuff. We were having a great time until the building caught on fire from some researchers ignoring the guidelines a bit too much and we had to bail...I actually don’t remember you getting out with us.”

“I don’t remember anything other than getting out of a hospital...at the end of that acid trip.”

“I’ll tell you what happened, since you have discarded the memories connecting those events.” Eiki plainly states as she replays your POV during the event, with the scene occasionally cutting back to the normalcy of the gymnasium and amused onlookers. “The combat hallucinations you experienced were the result of your powers manifesting as a result of the drug cocktail finally overcoming your inherent resistances, and your heart replacement is what your brain experienced as you lay on the ground, your human heart having broken, manifesting your backup vessel heart of my creation.”

“Eh? Your creation?” You ask. The other spirits chime in with the same question.

Eiki motions for Hecatia to begin narrating, which she does, “Your memories show that you talked to a certain Patchouli Knowledge, who told you that the runes inscribed on your body are a technique that was traded to the Eastern underworld. The trade occurred in the form of the remnant heart of Thanatos, which housed his...your soul after you committed suicide...”

“...Can a god really commit suicide?” Rikako cuts in from the peanut gallery on the other side of the bars.

“No, not in Greece. Hence why his soul was bound to his material remains. I granted the heart as research material for one of my follower covens, and it, along with the tomes written about it, were traded to the Orient.” Hecatia frowns, “It was a bad trade.”

“I do not have the records from the Chinese departments of Hell on hand right now regarding the trade itself,” Eiki continues the talk, “But they did give us the heart, the tomes, along with a prescript from the Taoist consensus: The Heavenly Palace. As one incarnated as a Chinese person, you are familiar with them, I am sure, Wu Zhenguo.”

You shudder as Eiki speaks your normal name, “You mean the big palace with the Jade Emperor and all of the famous heroes like Nezha?”

“Yes. They even lent us Taishan Laojun’s...or in our tongue, Omoikane’s Hakkero furnace for this task: To create an entity capable of resisting the overbearing divinity forces from foreign lands, which has began to take away the faith of the native religions. ”

“So...like the Mask of Hope incident?

They both look at you in disgust. Eiki explains, slowly, “No...nothing like the minor stakes of a single Japanese village, isolated from the rest of the world. This was the faith and culture of the whole of China hanging in the balance here, according to the Jade Emperor, hence the extreme measure they took in creating the monster they gave no name to: You, Thanatos’s heart placed within an iron vessel, refined for 49 days and nights in the fires of hell inside the Hakkero, and inscribed with Western techniques to allow Thanatos to do what he never could do in life: channel the powers of Styx herself.”

“Once again, that was a bad decision.” Hecatia says, the conversation clearly giving her painful feelings as she clutches her head, “Thanatos was a minor god in Greece, largely harmless, and the vessel was patterned after Xingtian, a relatively obscure figure from the Xia dynasty who fought and lost against the Yellow Emperor, in order to give the entity more anti-divinity than just Thanatos’ inherent rage. A dead minor god’s heart and a crude copy of a revenant may not seem like too much trouble to bring under control, but...”

“You were given the benefit of the doubt because the Heavenly Palace simply cannot muster the faith needed to fight the Christians…”

“The Christians?”

Both Conner and Eiki look at you strangely, “Um, Opium War, Taiping Rebellion, Unequal Treaties?” Your mechanical engineering professor list out, “I thought since you’re Chinese you would know this.”

“Oh! No no no...it was that recent?” You exclaim, surprised, “I thought that we were talking about some thousand-year old incident! Like when Buddhism was introduced or something!”

“As much as I would like to criticize him, the Jade Emperor was not one to resort to immediate violence against a largely pacifist religion.” Eiki continues, “However, the bloodshed of the Taiping Rebellion, and the humiliation by foreign powers, spurred him into taking drastic measures: You: the anti-divinity of the East and the West together allowed you to shrug off the westerners’ prayers and rituals, while your heavy metallic construction, inscribed iron spells and tanegashima took away the advantages of their Occidental guns and steel.”

“Wait, wait wait.” Rikako cuts in from the other side of the bars, “So you created an automaton, designed to kill the people you didn’t agree with and cannot fight, gave it the tools to overpower said foes, which again, you cannot fight, and then are surprised when it attacks you?”

“Rikako Asakura,” Eiki plainly states, “Your observation is valid, as we all agree that, in retrospect, the Heavenly Palace made a terrible decision. However, the concern of this trial, as with all trials in Higan, are of the sins of the subject. Also, the Heavenly Palace had paid quite dearly for their mistake already.”

“The Evil AI trope is still ‘Evil’ AI, implying a moral judgment here” Conner says, looking at you with concern, “Well, Yamaxanadu, did it kill the imperialists?”

“We delivered the creation to China, and privately sent a lowly shinigami to keep track of it. That was all we could do, for this project was kept secret from even the other regions of Hell, and the Heavenly Palace forbid us from speaking of it, going as far as to ‘suggest’ we partake of Meng Po’s amnesiac brew. That, we argued our way out of, but not anything else. Us East Asian Yama are mere subjects of those who have transcended life and death, and are nowhere near as potent as our Indian counterparts.” Eiki says, a hint of bitterness forming on her voice.

“Which is an excuse, but I digress,” Hecatia needles, provoking a glance from Eiki, “Initially, you did what the Yama expected, and fought the foreigners by helping local resistance societies in the Qing concession territories and razing Christian missions and outposts. Nice, clean Chinese resistance, fit for the history books. Of course, that did not last. When you ran out of soldiers to fight, you turned your gun on the non-combatants, the missionaries, their families...even any baptized infants you found were dragged out of their cribs and smashed into the ground. The inscriptions we made on the vessel were not enough to hold you. Quite soon however, you ran out of Christians in the areas you could get to….especially after the Boxer Rebellion you participated in scared them off.”

“You’re saying that the Boxer Rebellion was led by Iron Man Thanatos?” Conner exclaims, incredulous. Eiki merely raises an eyebrow.

“ ‘Led’? In a way. Thanatos participated as a rank-and-file, indistinguishable from a regular Boxer with the minor illusion enchantments his vessel provided. What happened as a result is that reports cropped up of seemingly different Boxers having bullets bounce off of their skin and crushing foreigner skulls with one hand, leading the others to believe that with enough faith and virtue, they too could achieve such feats.”

Some of the more historically literate spirits in the peanut gallery begin wondering, “Is that why the Boxers believed that they were able to channel gods?”

“To those wondering...yes, and no. The Heavenly Palace did dispatch celestials to aid their endeavors, but could only spare so much. Seeing Thanatos shrug off foreigner bullets, however, did however give them the morale to proceed. What they did not see, however, is that after he finished off the Christians in an area, he went after others: esoteric hermits, new tradition scholars, the occupations of new victims varied, but were all practitioners and high figures of our eastern faiths who also have deviated, even slightly, from the official stance. Just like the foreigners, they were unceremoniously shot and crushed, and left to rot.” Eiki audibly sucks in her frustration, “They often lived alone in remote locations, so nobody there noticed their demise. Nobody but the underworld. The Jade Emperor should’ve known something was wrong, and it was his sin that he did nothing until it was too late. Ironic, isn’t it, for a moral exemplar like him?”

“Question.” A kappa’s soul chimes in from the peanut gallery, “Isn’t it normal policy for assassins to be dispatched against deviant hermits?”

“That is a rule specific to Gensokyo, and while the hermits fit the category, he also targeted non-magical scholars, lecturers, and similar figures who did not pursue immortality, but still had an impact on the national zeitgeist. Continuing. At some point after your path of slaughter reached Beijing, leaving your fanatical followers to rush to their deaths against western guns, you wandered off to the coast.” Hecatia says as she experimentally adjusts Eiki’s mirror. “Unfortunately, it appears that the shinigami lost track of you at this point, and as you’ve erased your own memories, we have no records.”

“Komachi’s still demoted to ferry duty to this day for that.” Eiki adds in, “She refuses to talk of why she failed in that task. I did not and will not force her to say, as the act was white.”

===

You appraise the red-headed person in front of you. Not a religious figure. Not a westerner. Not on the list. She’s been following you this whole time, but only now did she decide to do something.

It’s odd? Why now? When you have a job to do inside this mission building.

You gesture for her to move aside, but she does not budge from the doorway, keeping her scythe just within striking range.

An obstacle then.

You draw your gun and clash, iron on steel. You’re not trying to kill this one. You just want this one to get out of the way.

She throws out curtains of underworld coins and weaves a wall of steel with her weapon, though none of her strikes breach your armor. You attempt to ram through, only to be pushed back by the sheer quantity of attacks thrown out.

Still, you...wait, are those heretics escaping through the windows? HOW DARE THEY?!

You punch the Japanese agent right in the face, knocking aside her scythe. Before she could regain her posture, you line up the gun barrel with her face and pull the trigger, splattering it all over the door. Drawing a spare barrel, you expunge the escaping heretic’s sinful mind with a righteous bullet, blowing it all over the wall and coating it with poisonous river water.

As the other escaping sinners in the courtyard begin to choke, you kick down the door and scan. Old traitors against heaven sitting against the walls. Shameful mothers clutching young scions of dishonor. A veritable den of treason against heaven, all for some barbarian god.

You load a canister of fuel, and fire, spraying the interior with flame.



“Thanatos?” Sanae worriedly asks as she snaps her fingers in front of you, producing bursts of rice. “You’ve blanked out again. Another vision?”

“...I’m sorry, some bit of Ming is still attached to me.” You grumble, changing your gaze from the field of wreckages, “He’s trying to tug at the memories discarded into me and throwing me into these flashbacks. If this happens during combat, don’t hesitate to leave me behind.”

“Now I’m really curious,” Nue asks through a face full of burger, courtesy of the US taxpayer, “We can deduce from these weird reports extracted from your body that you were the creation of the Yama for some sort of project by China’s heavenly courts.”

“I know that much. What I don’t know is why my past incarnation...creator, discarded these memories selectively like that into the heart. The reports, the actions...all of which would’ve been useful this life. Now Ming’s stuck in Hell with nothing to answer, and we still have questions.”

“You just said ‘we’, Thanatos.”

“Argh!” Your mind fragments for a moment, then hastily reassembles itself. “Sorry, piloting a mechanical revenant as a mass of polished souls is taxing on our...my sense of self. We...I...we don’t have any memories but for HIS! I cannot remember my cubs, our mother, my dearest plumed mate...it all burns...”

“It is alright, my dear squire.” Awyrgan’s voice cuts you off, giving your soul an instinctual shudder. “You do not have to think.”

As the shadow of the dragon flies over the HAARP installation, you once again disappear from the narrative.

===

”However, we do have some accounts of what happened next.”

“A replica of Sun Wukong’s drunken rampage?” Imaizumi Kagerou’s voice comes from the peanut gallery. Large holes of gleaming silver pierce her torso, and she idly scratches at them as she talks, “Based on what I know of Ming he doesn’t really have the will to do anything more than that.”

“I’m sorry....” You mutter, numbed, “I’m sorry...”

“You are correct. He does not. Unfortunately, coming off of the tail end of China’s deadliest civil war, and spearheading the violent aspect of another revolution gave Thanatos quite a lot of souls to work with.” Hecatia says, “You understand how your internal mechanism allows you to serve as a sort of accelerated reincarnation cycle, grinding the personalities of the deceased into mist and leaving behind a polished, generic soul.”

Eiki continues, “They greatly feared that the Christians will use their religion to escape the underworld, or more correctly, they feared that Chinese souls will leave their jurisdiction. This solved that problem and any energy issues you may experience. They did not take into account that you would keep ahold of the souls after you purified them. They also did not take into account that your previous iteration was capable of selectively choosing which parts to grind off. When your programming finally cracked, and you turned against the heavenly courts, you brought alongside you a legion of tens of millions of souls salvaged from across China, all stripped…” Hecatia loudly coughs, interrupting Eiki for a bit, ”...of nothing but resentment towards the world for letting them die.”

“Nothing stopped you, not the guard who stopped you at the gate, not the lieutenants who stepped in once you flooded the gardens, not even the heroes themselves. It was everything the Japanese Heaven feared when they fled to the Moon. The sheer quantity of the amount of misery and suffering that the mortals of China unleashed on their own heaven was tenfold the faith they possessed to fight back with in that time, and they faced your anti-divinity too, no less. Contributing to this, of course, was that the attack on the Heavenly Palace was timed with the deprivation of faith as the Boxers you led on were left to be brutally crushed by the foreigners in Peking, and the cities and villages they protected pillaged, burnt and raped for a whole year....judging the souls of those from Japan who ‘participated’ in that incident was sobering, as it was the last years of my duty outside Gensokyo. Though I am sure my fellow Yama had a much harder time in the subsequent wars that arose.”

Eiki slams the rod on the table, and your surroundings shift back to the courtroom. “Now, for witness testimony of your rampage. Sun Wukong was the one who documented the aftermath, but unfortunately he is currently unavailable for this trial. We do however have some of the survivors here with us.”

“Aren’t we in Higan?” One of the spirits queuing for his trial complains, “Shouldn’t the dead ones be more available?”

“You are mistaken.” Eiki answers, “Chinese celestials, unlike those you might be familiar with here in Gensokyo, cannot die. Thanatos did the next ‘best’ thing...”

A figure in a tattered, but still flowing silk robe emerges from behind the stand. A low-ranking celestial, merely a peach server. You recognize the river water’s signs on her body: a missing left arm that’s haphazardly rebuilt itself from several other pieces of dead flesh, blotchy black stains on her skin, a hollow look in the eyes.

“By survive, I mean that they avoided being fused into a giant mass of necrotic flesh and Styx water infested souls. Sun Wukong in fact was strong-stomached enough to return a few decades ago and take pictures for us.” Eiki says as she levitates her mirror upwards and enlarges it, allowing it to act like a projector screen.

Most looked away. Hecatia held your head forward.

Amidst the terraces and palaces that not even the most expensive mythological TV drama had reproduced, being the absolute pinnacle of Chinese architecture made with exotic materials of the highest virtue, is a literal sea of pure, undistilled nightmares. Limbs and heads stick out of the gunk, all in various positions of screaming and struggling, their virtuous natures having long since died to brute horror. Eiki flips through several different pictures of the same shot, and you notice that their mouths are still moving.

The mirror only shows truth. This is a reality that the people of East Asia, even Earth, ought to never know.

“Now, for the witness testimonies....”

The celestials are barely able to stutter out their experiences, mostly talking about how they barely managed to get away from the grasping mass of lost souls while watching their friends succumb to the tide of hatred, all the while the metal monster stalks from notable figure to notable figure, grinding their accumulated virtue to dust to feed the hungry ghosts.

There’s quite a few of them.

The last of them was not a celestial, but an old lady: Mengpo, the one normally responsible for purging the memories of dead souls before they are allowed into the reincarnation wells. Slowly, in a creaking voice, she describes in vivid detail how you returned from heaven straight to the underworld, drenched in corrupted virtue, and kicked her aside, before diving into a well of reincarnation.

Every single one of them shared a common insight.

They recognized you.

====
Meanwhile, in the audience

“I didn’t know Yamas had witnesses and evidence for a trial.” Mystia asks the red-headed reaper, who’s guarding the accused’s box with a grim expression.

“Amnesiacs who cannot recover memories are given this treatment.”

“Then what about the audience?” The dead night sparrow continues, “Surely something such as an individual’s life is not a public affair.”

“Thanatos is a servant of Hell, like the rest of us shinigami.” Komachi scratches her head, “This is also for the benefit of all of the other dead here.”

After what seemed like an eternity (which very well may have been) as Eiki wraps up the witness testimonies by distilling it into a series of crime convictions, she finally pauses, takes a deep breath, and slams the rod on her bench again.

Everyone else in the courtroom vanishes, leaving just you, her, and Hecatia.

“Eh? What are you…OW!” You yell in pain from the thrown punishment rod bouncing off of your head, it lands on the floor in front of you and splinters in two.

A smaller chunk reading “Black” and the larger chunk that’s blank”.

“What? I thought...”

“To be straightforward. Thanatos. What you did this life was terrible. What you did in your past incarnation is a great tragedy. But...as we know, you were following scriptures that were carved into your body. No justice in the world will fault a drone for his commanded actions. And while your actions this life have been reprehensible, you still have some good in you. Thanatos, meaning that your soul hasn’t been completely blackened.”

“But I’m not...am I?” You are fairly sure that Thanatos is the one who gave you the power. But...was it just your fragmented mind deluding yourself?

You realize you cannot remember any of the events before Gensokyo that clearly.

But that still doesn’t mean you’re Thanatos.

“So…what about the sin itself? You made this a public trial, and yet will not charge?”

Eiki gets up from the judge’s bench, and sets down her hat, “As somebody who was just as complicit in the event as you were, I have no right to convict. Hecatia, if you will.”

Nodding, the Greek goddess of the underworld takes up position on the bench and replaces her orb headgear with the Yama hat. “Yamaxanadu , Eiki Shiki, through the creation of the vessel of Thanatos, you are guilty of aiding and abetting the Heavenly Palace in conspiring to murder its own people, as well as the political turmoil that consumed even more lives thereafter. While heaven then may have justified it with their own law, one need only look at the results to see how wrong they were.”

“What…are you doing, Eiki?” You ask.

Hecatia continues, “After the current state of emergency in Gensokyo is over, you shall…” The goddess purses her lips, her unsure tone intensifying, “Are you really comfortable with a substitute taking over for the duration?”

“There is no other way to do this. If I shall continue as a pure Yama, I must hold myself to a higher standard than everyone else subjected to this court. What we did was not of our own will, but if we had been more cautious with the parameters…if we had been more liberal with the restrictions, Thanatos would not have caused as much damage. For our sins and his sins, as the creator, I, and my fellow Yama on the outside, have long since agreed to take the full punishment for this crime.”

“Are…you serious?” You gasp, “Surely…that is ridiculous! You can’t be guilty for something you were forced into doing!”

“The act itself is not the issue. It is the Japanese Court’s failure to mitigate the consequences of our actions.” Eiki sighs, “Komachi was unprofessional, but she was right, we should have done more than just monitor you. We should have stepped in before it all went…to Hell. If good people do nothing in the presence of evil, then they have sinned as well.”

“Eiki…”

“Moreover, as one of the creators of Thanatos’s programmed incarnation, I also deserve the blame for his actions in that life, as he had less choice than us…”

“...”

You definitely are not willing to take the blame for morally questionable decisions. Momiji would know that. Others can bear the responsibility and shame.

You are also definitely not willing to have others face consequences for your actions. Sharing your head with a cluster of stripped souls has given you this much over your base (in both meanings) personality.

But were they your actions in the first place?

It doesn’t matter. What matters here is that they think you are Thanatos himself, and treats you like him.


“Hit me, Hecatia.”


“Eh?”

“I said ‘hit me’!” You unconsciously raise your voice, “Even if I’m not sure if I’m Thanatos, treat me like I am! I took credit for the killings by many people I know when I was alive, so why not now?”

Eiki softly “harumphs”, “You cannot simply take on the sins of another, unless you are the Christian consensus.”

“Fine then, let me redefine my statement. I, for all intents and purposes in this silly trial, am Thanatos. For the sins of my past life or whatever. Even if I’m not Thanatos, he’s not here, I am, and there’s nobody better to be taking additional murder charges than a murderer.”

“You know, I had my doubts, even if their souls match up, but this really is Thanatos.” Hecatia remarks as she puts down the rod, “I still remember how during the Plague of Athens, when the deceased citizens demanded he answer why the gods have abandoned the city, which he doesn’t know, he instead responded that it was he who desired their deaths, just because he heard one ghost blaspheme Persephone’s name. She was one of the few individuals the ornery bastard could tolerate, though I still know not the reason.”

“I…wha…?”

Could it be that they are right? Could it be that your own soul, grasping onto your heart, had changed both your dark side and the spirits that made up your light side to match your original incarnation?

“I thought he was just being spiteful to the mortals, but now I can see the connection. You can’t bear to see others suffer for your sake, which is why other than the savage Erinyes, you did your job alone.”

“No, that can’t be true. If I was Thanatos, I would have been proud of what I’ve done!” You protest, “I never would have discarded my memories! To kill an entire court of gods…that’s what I dream of!”

“But are you proud of having killed those mortals while enslaved by those same gods? The Thanatos I knew, tore his own arms off when Heracles chained him to a rock, such is the degree of his hate for being ordered around by any god but that of the underworld.”

No…no you are not proud of being such a slave. You may have also engaged in such wanton slaughter, and enjoyed it, but if it was for someone else’s sake, especially someone you dislike…you don’t want it.

You straighten your posture, and feel more confidence in your voice, “Speaking of being ordered, what is the deal with judging me as Thanatos anyhow? Is it that important for me to recognize the name?”

“Because, Thanatos, you were a part of Hell, and upon accepting your name again, you will once again resume your role. We can’t just let rogue gods run around the reincarnation cycles, especially not rogue western gods. Though…how do you work with this hat, Eiki?” Hecatia complains as she lifts the hat and scratches her head with a disembodied hand, “…Given that Greece’s underworld is currently not used as a Hell…no thanks to Yahweh on that one…”

“That’s no issue.” Eiki interjects, “We are currently down a kishin, and after this incident is over, we will definitely need any help we can get, Thanatos.”

“Is that a job offer? You’ve gotta be…”

“Not a job; a place where you belong.” The Yama’s voice is turning oddly soft. “No more will you be drifting on the currents of reincarnation to plague mortals with your instincts and abilities. You will be here, where you can turn your blade on the wicked as their captor and punisher.”

“I can…I can be a good kishin, even if I’m not a good person?”

“A good kishin takes pride in their work, and joy in accomplishing it. You were always a good kishin, Thanatos, it’s just your choice of reincarnation that landed you into sin this life.”

“A good kishin…I, Thanatos, can be a good kishin?”

Your mind, arrives irrevocably at this conclusion. You have done Thanatos’ job. You have his abilities. You have his personality. And you find his new position rather appealing.

What can it be said other than that you are Thanatos?

For the first time since you set foot in the courtroom, you see Eiki smile.

“Just get it over with, you easterners are weird. My job here is done, you two can have your moment.” Hecatia groans and tosses the hat onto the bench as she excuses herself to the backroom.

“I was...I am...Thanatos.” You finally state, feeling as if you found a place to belong at last. “And I accept your proposal, you are my lord, Lord Yamaxanadu” You extend a hand.

Eiki happily replaces her hat and shakes your hand. Floating back up to the bench, she produces a suspiciously pre-written looking scroll and has you sign it.

“And I officially accept you into my court, Lord Thanatos...”

Clap. Clap.

The two of you immediately turn towards the pillar at the back of the room. Eiki snaps straight back to her usual expression of stoic authority. “Who trespasses into a private court session?!”

A girl strolls out from the back of the pillar. Matted hair, in a gradient pattern flowing between a furious red and a deep, depressing green. Unlike the more elaborate costumes of most in Gensokyo, or even the common villagers, she wears a simple, uncolored robe tied together with a rope, upon which a single heavy-looking pouch hangs. A cheap Outside World jacket is worn over that. Nothing else. Not even a hair accessory,

“Someone who’s unaffected by the measures of death.” The girl responds, in the tone of one unfamiliar with Japanese. “I’m just here to check that my promise is mostly fulfilled. Oh, Zhenguo.” She fishes around her pockets and pulls out a pair of spectacles, which she puts on. Pulling her hair up, she scrunches her face, “Recognize me?”

The recognition hits you like a cannon round, “You...you’re “Professior Yi”! The one who put your heart inside of me! You were a woman? Scratch that, you were real?”

“How fuzzy is your memory? Of course I was! I took up Thanatos’s burden, just as I promised him over a century ago.” She peels away the top of her robe, revealing metallic scarring above her left breast. “It was a little painful, but nothing special.”

Eiki was frozen in shock during that exchange, and upon recovering she immediately grabs ahold of the rod of remorse and points it at the interloper, summoning everyone back into the room. “Court officials, eject this intruder from our proceedings!”

The girl reaches into her pouch and removes some pebbles. Komachi and her colleagues approach her with weapons raised, but are suddenly forced back as the girl tosses a pebble at the floor before her. Eiki slams the rod, raising a gust of strong wind, which the girl counters with another thrown pebble. The wind turns around as soon as it touches the rock, blowing around the courtroom and sending papers and quills scattering in all directions.

As her robe billows from the movement, you recognize it.

It’s the same “dress” you caught a glimpse of when you found your first Iron Card.

“I request some leniency on my presence here, Honorable Yama.” The girl casually continues talking, “I am merely here to offer some witness testimony for the sinner here, not to alter his sentence, of course, but to clear up some confusion.”

Hecatia rushes into the room after hearing all the commotion. The girl’s face lights up upon spotting her, “Oh, hello there Hecate! How’s Junko doing?”

“Hecatia, do you know this person?” Eiki mutters, setting down her rod with gritted teeth.

The Greek goddess can only stare in confusion, “I...I didn’t know you were still active...J-”

“Oh, pardon my poor manners, I forgot to introduce myself, ” The girl bows, throwing back her sleeves and revealing a brilliant pair of wings under her arms, “I am Jingwei, the former heir to the old Yan throne, though now I’m just a bird spirit.”

“You’re WHO?” If she’s not lying, then if one takes the birth of a god to be at the time of belief, then this girl here is likely older than everyone else in this room save for perhaps Hecatia. It does explain the pebbles, sort of?

===

One of Shou’s heads perks up as the open frequency crackles.

“Once, long ago, the Flame Emperor had a daughter.”

“Guys, Arcturus is transmitting cryptic stuff over the open frequency again.”

“Once, long ago, this daughter loved the ocean.”

“Wait, isn’t this that myth about the…”

“The ocean, offended by the mortal’s affection, drowned her beneath the waves.”

“I don’t think that’s what happened. Wriggle, can you check if he’s mixing in an encrypted…”

”The girl rose again on wings of fury and spite.”

“That’s being a little overdramatic about what happened.”

”Now, the bird despises the ocean.”

“Okay, that’s correct.”

”Then, the bird will slay the ocean, and live happily ever after.”

“…Sort of…No, what? What in the nine hells was that?”

===

Eiki stares long and hard at her, then gestures at an unoccupied Shinigami desk. “You may use that as a witness stand. Though this court does not take the opinion of outsiders into account for the judgment of souls.”

“It’s fine. I simply wish to add some corrections to the story.” Jingwei floats over to the desk, and perches on it instead of the chair behind it. “First of all, I am happy to say that your shinigami did obtain the true location of Thanatos’s soul, in that school. However, as I showed, Wu Zhenguo was not lying about the heart transplant being a real occurrence instead of a drug-induced hallucination. Thanatos had given me his heart and all of his spells before throwing himself into the well of reincarnation after he massacred all of Heaven, and his reincarnation did not have any of those. He was in fact the janitor that was reported dead during the fire, even though he got out fine, and it was Wu Zhenguo who ended up on the morgue slab before reviving himself with the heart.”

“Impossible.” Eiki states, “Before he left to slack off in Ireland, our tracking shinigami gave us a clear match with Thanatos’s soul on Wu Zhenguo.” She allows her Cleansed Crystal Mirror to hover out of her hand and expand to the size of a projector screen, displaying a diagram of your old body and the body of what is clearly a Greek god, albeit a rather small one, with a series of complex lines and scripts delineating the similarities between them. “The patterns do not lie. This soul is Thanatos.”

“Ah, I forgot about that. I left this in you just for this purpose, two years ago.” Jingwei walks over to you, and without warning shoves her hand directly into your ghostly cranium. You scream in agony as the feeling, of something unbearably hot churning your nonexistent organs, ravages you for a few moments, and then continue screaming as she pulls a pebble out through your soul’s eye socket. “Komachi, if you would perform another examination.”

The red-headed reaper cautiously walks over, looks at you, then shakes her head in disbelief. “Yeah, uh, Eiki? I’m not the best tracker, as you know, but this looks like a typical Izanami-afflicted soul. Nothing like the diagram.”

Eiki hurriedly sets up the mirror again, and furrows her brow, “So the removed memories truly had no deeds to reflect...Jingwei...you admit to intentionally sabotaging in the efforts of Hell to track down a dangerous rogue god with your still unexplained power, do you have any idea how serious that crime is? And how?”

The bird maintains her casually smiling expression, but her eyes begin to change color to a blazing orange, “My ability is simple: The denial of state. Say, denying the state of a running person to assert that the person is stopping, the state of an apple from rotten to fresh, the state of a heart from hard to soft, or...” She ruffles her wing feathers, “...the state of a drowned girl to an immortal living bird. And yes, I do understand the crime.”

Conner suddenly recognizes the newcomer, “Hey! You’re that weird girl that followed me around campus for a whole semester two years ago! What the hell?!”

“Sorry about that,” Jingwei answers, somewhat apologetically, “I was just trying to copy your identity so Ming could keep his story straight. Turns out that didn’t work since you met up with him in Gensokyo, sidelining you from his suspicions.”

“So you’re not even bounded to exact opposites, like Ame-no-Sagume or similar amanojaku,” Hecatia comments while stroking her chin, ignoring Conner’s swearing at the bird, “But, why? Why would you aid a murderous rogue god?”

“Thanatos? Murderous?” Jingwei laughs, a shrill, unsettling chuckle closer to a songbird than a human, and shakes her head, “Thanatos as I knew him after he reincarnated would vomit at the mere suggestion of killing. The poor soul’s been forced into shady murder contracts under both the Greeks and the Chinese, why would he willingly become a serial killer after escaping?”

“Forced into shady murder contracts?” Everyone, including you, ask in unison.

Hecatia silences the room, then asks “The gods of Greece, including me, did have him seize souls under bad intentions, this is public information and outside this jurisdiction. But about the Chinese?”

“Oh, the Taoists never admitted the truth even to the Yama?” Jingwei’s smile drops a little, “The construct you made with their instructions was never malfunctioning, Honorable Yama, it wasn’t JUST designed to eliminate foreign religions from encroaching on our countries here. It was designed from the start to kill any native hermits and upstart intellectuals that may threaten their doctrines. Why else, would China stay stagnant for so long even in crisis that your country rolled over it with ease?”

“The Jade Emperor may be flawed, but he would never order the murder of his own followers, much less virtuous hermits!” Eiki shouts, her hat drooping.

“Yeah, that doesn’t make much sense to kill your own loyalists,” Hecatia starts, then stops and considers, “Wait, Eiki, didn’t you mention that the non-Christians he killed were still somewhat deviant?”

“Can a shinigami retrieve the original Chinese prescripts the Heavenly Palace sent you to inscribe in his armor, from the archives here? I personally saw and recorded runes on his body that broadly defined anyone acting against the interest of the Heavenly Palace to be criminal troublemakers and heretics.”

“We definitely have those records,” Eiki says as she gestures for a clerk shinigami to retrieve them, ”but to argue that it proves the Jade Emperor ordered the murder of those hermits, instead of it being a fault of creation, is nonsense.”

“Of course he did not order it himself. He distanced himself as much as possible. That’s why he ordered the Japanese Hell, not China’s, to craft the armor housing Thanatos’s heart, even lending you the Bagua Furnace, the “Hakkero furnace” in your language, to smelt the vessel fitting for a god. Isn’t it curious, though, how the instructions inscribed on his armor allowed for the Heavenly Palace to define the criteria for his targets rather than a simple ‘Is of a Christian faith’? Or how not even a single Heavenly soldier was sent down to stop him even just out of principle? It’s because they were ordered to not intervene. If you check the inscriptions for his gauntlets, you’d see patterns designed specifically to counter the weapons of Heaven, not just mere hermit magic. Just in case, of course, someone like Nezha decides to disobey that order.”

You see Eiki reflexively check some of the papers the clerk hands to her, and her eyes widen as the records appear to correspond to the bird’s testimony. “I did not work on this section…”

Jingwei then removes several scrolls, corroded by poisoned river water, from her robes and presents them to Eiki, “Some records I collected from their archives that Sun Wukong missed. These corroborate all of my statements.”

The shinigami, the Yama, and Hecate pore over the scrolls, carefully scrutinizing the details within the Chinese text. Finally, Eiki sighs, dismisses the aides, and settles back down in the throne, pinching her forehead, “...I suppose that is the Taoist Way, after all, just setup the dam and watch the river drown all of your problems...what was Yudi thinking? Telling us to create such an abomination and letting it loose, only for it to bite back at himself.”

“Buddhism eroded much of his authority, enough that the Monkey King ran roughshod over his legions during his tantrum. The Europeans were likely the last straw, as he saw in your country’s Shimabara Rebellion what chaos foreign ideas and beliefs would cause. Thus, this whole mess. I am just speculating, however, as the Heavenly Palace is unavailable for comment, being still choking on the waters of Styx...which, I will take full responsibility for, the whole event, as I was the one who told Thanatos to do it.”

The court erupts in a cacophony of voices, with the spectating spirits adding their confused commentary to the shinigamis’. Jingwei’s slight smile has expanded into a full, unsettling grin.

“No magic, not even my own ability, was used. I simply pointed out to Thanatos that the entirety of the Heavenly Palace was contained within their own broad definition of targets, under a certain frame of reference, and provided a single ride up there on my talons. His own, shall we borrow a more modern term, programming, did the rest.”

“You would take responsibility for the tens of thousands of celestials slaughtered by his hands?”

“That and more. I also take responsibility for the deaths caused by his influence within a later event as his now compromised prescripts also covered Confucianism. Oh, Thanatos marching through the undefended Chinese underworld to mutilate Mencius’s spirit was quite a sight, though he stopped just short of forcing a reincarnation.”

“I was not informed of that.” Both of the rulers of Hell responded.

“You likely were not informed of anything during those years, the Yanwang were a bit preoccupied by this occurrence, and understandably hesitant to discuss such a shameful incident. It’s not relevant anyway. You can’t charge him with anything now that you’ve declared a new Thanatos, removing the last bit of connection he had with Hell. And, of course, the Yama’s judgments are absolute. However, Hecate, if you ask them about it, they will admit.”

A moment of silence. Eiki taps the rod on the bench, looking tired for the first time. “Jingwei, I have to ask. Why did you actually come here to turn yourself in? If we really want Thanatos back, we can break procedure to do so.”

“I have to ask you why you want Thanatos back at all. The man’s happy now, away from everything that’s tormented him throughout his existence: Mortals and the disgustingness of their deaths. Now that his position is ‘filled’, there should be no reason to go trouble him, as he is now 100% a normal mortal soul.”

“Are you saying that what Thanatos wanted all along was to not be Thanatos?”

“Precisely. You know why he sympathized with Persephone right? Because both of them were stuck in Hades against their will, largely.”

Hecatia groans, “…Why didn’t he say anything then? In all those millenia of service?”

“He did. Quite frequently as he told me through his heart. It’s just as how the Jade Emperor dismissed Yamaxanadu’s letters of protest, so did you and Hades brush off his anger and resentment as a natural aspect of him. After all, Thanatos was supposed to hate the living and want nothing to do with them. Nonetheless, it wasn’t your fault that he cannot handle the fading away of Olympus. If we were to judge everyone for things they could’ve done more for, everyone deserves Naraka.”

“Are you implying something here?” Eiki questions, the bird having echoed her earlier statement with a more cynical edge.

“No, just a frivolous personal opinion. Now,” The bird grabs ahold of you, and drags you upright. “As I’ve taken responsibility for this whole mess, I will take in your share of the sin as well, Yamaxanadu, and confine myself to Hell for the duration of the punishment.”

“Jingwei you know very well that it’s meaningless for you in particular.” Eiki angrily protests, “You got past the Sanzu and snuck into the courtroom with impunity, any suffering you may volunteer for in Hell is meaningless just by the sheer denial you can conjure up which already bypasses life and death. In fact, why did you even bother ‘taking responsibility’ when you precede the entire system?”

The bird pouts, “Oh, well that’s a shame. Wu Zhenguo.” You perk up at your name being mentioned, “You still wish to repent for your sins this life?”

“Definitely. Even if I am…not who you want me to be, Eiki, I want to be a better person.”

Eiki just stares at you with sad eyes, and then wordlessly tosses out another punishment rod.

Blank.

“Wu Zhenguo,” She quietly says, “Do you know what being an Izanami-afflicted soul means?”

“No?”

“There is no judgment for an Izanami-afflicted soul. Unlike Thanatos who was enslaved into his role, you are created directly with your sins intact. Calling you an independent soul, in fact, would be inaccurate.” Eiki pauses, shuffling the papers on the bench, “You are a fragment of Izanami herself, an entity solely devoted to killing. They are quite common, but the vast majority are not killers…they are miscarriages and sudden infant deaths, as the first and only human they kill are themselves. Those who survive and do walk the path of a murderer tend to develop more as their victims easily haunt and possess such hollow personalities, but not by much.”

She pauses and straightens her hat, and you swear that her eyes turned just a bit watery, “To develop so far into what is nearly a normal human…you are more than welcome to stay in Higan as long as you like. My offer of being a shinigami still stands, even if as a fragment you’ll likely just be doing clerical work.”

“But then I can’t pay...”

“What I’m saying is that if you do proceed into Hell, you will be reabsorbed into Izanami, Wu Zhenguo!” She’s shouting again, not out of frustration, but of heartfelt concern, “That’s why we do not judge Izanami fragments! There is no purpose when you do not get to reincarnate at all! You should know that, Jingwei!”

“You’re thinking too linearly, Yama. This isn’t a determined thing. Tell me, did you think you had a choice to outright reject when the Jade Emperor forced you to finish creating Thanatos’s vessel?”

“No. The Yama across Asia serve at the behest of Heaven’s mandate. If we disobeyed, they would have replaced us with little more than a hand wave.”

“Yet they were struck down. You definitely had the option to do what I did and suggest Thanatos to slaughter them before they could realize what’s going on.” Jingwei says matter-of-factly.

“Is that a joke?”

“No. You would never do it, Yamaxanadu, but the option was there, and the outcome would’ve spared more mortal lives. Not that it matters in the end.” The bird smooths her feathers, gazing intently at the now-fuming Yama. “Likewise, you assume that a fragment being absorbed is some sort of immutable destiny, when the exact opposite is possible with enough help…”

“Let her do it, Shiki.” Hecatia sighs, “I know exactly what she’s talking about. She’s done this two times before you were born. Unless you really want to keep Zhenguo here forever.”

“I would rather keep him here forever than to let him be used as a tool again. He has had enough of that.” Eiki firmly states.

“I’m not using him, Yama!” Jingwei snaps back, a sudden surge of genuine conviction in her voice, “If you do not want this delightfully deviated fragment from succumbing like the others, which he will as long as he stays in the realm of the dead, then trust me! I denied my own fate of death, and I can deny his fate of reabsorption! That is the one thing I can do! Offering the potential of a happy ending that I cannot achieve!”

The Yama gazes intently at the bird, and sees nothing but pure white in that instance, even so, she leans over and asks, “Do you trust her, Hecatia?”

The goddess leans over to whisper the reply, you catch a “Junko” being mentioned in there.

“Understood,” Eiki straightens her hat, and puts on a legal air as she states, “Wu Zhenguo. As you are not judged, you are free to choose your next path. As I said before, you can stay here, or follow her. I will ensure that you remain safe to others if you do choose to stay, so…”

If there’s anything that you’re still grasping on from your cohabitation with your purified victims, its their collective desire to not be a burden. That is the one trait not of your soul that you held onto throughout your journey in Gensokyo. The one virtue you are determined to keep.

If you are a fragment, doomed from cradle to grave and then back again, then it’s no loss for you to try any option to get out.

[x] “Thank you, but I cannot be a burden to you. Eiki. That, I cannot compromise on.”

You turn to the bird, her eyes an incomprehensible depth of time, “I’m willing to do this, Jingwei.”

Jingwei’s mouth curves again into an unsettling grin, and drags you off, out of the courtroom.

Pass the gazes of the people you knew who succumbed to death. You wave at them, unsure if you’ll see them again. Some of them wave back, just as unsure if you’ve made a sane decision.

Hecatia hurries out of the courtroom after the two Chinese.

“Eiki,” Komachi comments as she helps prepare the courtroom for the normal souls, who have queued up so much that they’re running out of dock space. “Did Hecatia tell you what exactly the consequences of the action are? I can kind of figure out what she’s trying to do with the context.”

“Yes.” Eiki gives an uncharacteristically curt reply.

“And you’re okay with it? Doesn’t it…isn’t it just as bad as what we did before? In fact, isn’t it exactly what we did before?”

“No innocents will be harmed. That, they promised. And remember, while we are to treat the dead equally, our court is contingent on Gensokyo’s continued existence, and are obligated to support it.” Eiki finishes cleaning the desk and gestures for the shinigami to let in the first soul. “More importantly, we have several leashes now as we can correspond with with his bloodline’s progenitor, his current body’s progenitor, and of course, the combined might of a currently unified Gensokyo.”

“That doesn’t resolve the issue…ow…” Komachi clutches her head in pain from a memory, “I do not want THAT to happen again. Hell should have no business building weapons for the living. Didn’t she even say that we had a choice to reject such seemingly one-sided decisions?”

The Yama taps the rod several times, “This is a girl who devoted her immortal existence to filling up the ocean one pebble at a time, Komachi. She is legitimately insane even by Gensokyo’s standards. She is however, very effective in taking advantage of unusual circumstances, and we are in one of those right now. And hard as it is for me to say, we, a court meant for serving Gensokyo, do not have any authority over her. Hecatia is the only one who has the strength to do so.”

“And what about the fragment?”

“He would not have stayed, because he is no longer just a fragment.”

====

The road to Hell is in fact paved with black basalt and weird looking stone skulls. Oni patrol along the paths, but actively distance themselves from Jingwei as you two pass them.

“There, see?” She points out as you approach a cliff overlooking a river bank, “This is where the Greater Sanzu river of the rest of Japan feeds into this garden’s. We are going outside of Gensokyo’s regional borders through here.”

A small dock, with signage indicating its use for visitors from the other parts of Hell, stand along the banks in a worrying condition, indicative of Gensokyean Hell’s financial woes. The lone shinigami watching over the place doesn’t even move from his seat as Jingwei unmoors a boat and shoves you in.

You remain silent as the bird begins rowing, quickly leaving the dock behind. A few minutes later, you feel the sensation of magic leaving you as well as you pass Gensokyo’s border. Your head clears up some as the influence of magic departs, leaving just yourself behind.

“Each mile down here is ten up there.” She quips. Despite the passage being upstream, she’s seemingly only putting as much effort as a downstream row.

The gloomy waters of the Sanzu is dark. Occasionally you can see a face of a damned soul punished by imprisonment in the river float upwards, and quickly scurry away upon sensing nothing worth possessing.

“Wu Zhenguo, you want to ask me something?” She suddenly says, without turning around.

“Yeah. How does your plotting fit in with filling up the ocean?” Something about her is clearing up your head, “I understand killing the dragon gods of the seas, but all of the Heavenly Palace?”

“I think it’s pretty straightforward. First you kill the gods of the sky, so the gods of the sea will have no backing. Then you kill the gods of the sea. Only then can you kill the ocean.”

“So…are you planning on doing this to every major religion?”

“No, just the ones who have an emphasis on natural order.”

“And how are you planning on killing a large body of salt water? It’s not something alive!”

Jingwei stops rowing for a moment to turn around and sit, facing you, “ I asked myself the same question: I spent the first millenia of my existence tossing rocks and twigs into the waves, only to see them spat back out tenfold. I mated and gave birth to hundreds of thousands of children to help me, but even then, the artificial island we made was wiped away by one tsunami. So I faced the question that many poets have asked me: Why? Why continue?”

“To represent the strength and determination of the Chinese people?”

A hacking laughter comes out of her throat, “Ahaha~No. I continued because it was the only thing holding me on to this world, there was nothing else. Even my children were mere tools, programmed to replicate my task…then, then I met Junko.”

“Junko…The same Junko that the Lunarians told me is a crazy siege monster that regularly attacks them?”

“Oh? Is that what she’s been up to lately? She’s come a great way from that grieving, divorced mother who was pathetically praying for the will to simply live on, travelling all the way to my roost to do so. To be frank, anybody could have given the advice I gave: Right the wrongs that were done to her, and remove any scrap of regret she had. So, I helped her use her innate magic from her origin as a handmaiden of Nuwa…the goddess, I mean, not me…and purified herself of her humanity. Since she had her traitorous husband beaten to death, I presume her current course of action is to annihilate Chang’e and finish her vengeance.”

“…I think most people would have told her to move on…maybe take vengeance on Houyi, but not go as far as to turn oneself into an insane spirit of vengeance.”

You expect this other spirit of vengeance to deny your statement, but she nods, “Indeed, there are definitely advantages to sanity. Seeing her lose her mind forced me to reconsider my goal: Even if I succeed, it proves nothing and changes nothing. If the ocean did not exist, the forces that be would have me drowned in a lake, a pond, or another body of water. And to eliminate every body of water on the planet would be inefficient.”

“What about the fact that doing so would kill every living being in existence?”

“Side effect, but also a good point. I may be able to deny my own death, but there are forces out there far beyond my capability to deny.” She casually mentions, while instinctually preening her feathers while the boat turns into a downstream current. “So I reconsidered my objective: I never hated the ocean, as a body of salt water. I loved it, in fact. What I hated, was drowning.”

“You’re going to destroy…the concept of drowning?” You mull on that as a lifegoal, “It is more feasible to modify the human species than to eliminate all bodies of water deeper than an inch, I suppose, but then…why the killings? You don’t strike me as one who enjoys the pleasure of death, and preventing humans from ever drowning again seems like a noble goal.”

“You have no idea, Wu Zhenguo,” Another unsettling chuckle, “To put it simply, there are many forces out there who depend on people to keep drowning. Gods of the sea, for instance, rely on the threat of drowning for much of their faith, and on the flip side, the various monsters that feed upon the flesh and misery of unfortunate seafarers. So naturally, I had to dispose of them. But the spider web goes further than that, for sea gods have the support of their pantheons, so those had to go as well…you can see why I helped Thanatos to indulge in his angst and emerge with a happy ending for himself.”

“So how many gods have you slain?”

Jingwei shrugs, “Not that much, actually. Scientific advancement, and the cultural proliferation from industrial societies, obsoletes most sea gods before I can put any plans into motion. It is only conservative strongholds such as East Asia which clings on to their pantheons, and whose pantheons have a vested interest in keeping the ocean deadly, that require elimination. Once those are gone, I shall sacrifice my all to bring the gift of waterbreathing to all of the world, so that we may be free of the tyranny of the sea. Fortunately for you, lost fragment,” She smiles, “One of these gods who supports drowning, is Izanami.”

The boat stops at the foot some rocky crags, above which looms a massive plateau of half-formed clay and damp, stinking soil. The darkness is faintly lit by eight sentinels of what look to be living stone carved into the shape of demons, bearing dirty-looking torches and rhythmically beating on drums. They stare at Jingwei as she docks the boat and floats off, but ignore you as you clamber after her.

The drumming intensifies as Jingwei approaches the first sentinel, and when she crosses what appears to be the border of their guardianship, the other seven disappear in a crack of thunder and reappear next to their sibling. They brandish their dumbbell-like drumsticks at her, and declare in unison, with rumbling voices, “Eternal bird! What brings you here this day?”

“The same, dear Raijin,” She responds, “I am merely bringing another child home.”

Raijin? Mother? Then this must be...Yomi near Izumo Province, the forced resting place of Izanami.

Now they turn to look at you, their savage faces scrunched to perceive some detail on your soul. “A meager fragment, one more of the Hong than of mother, but a fragment nonetheless.” The largest among them announces, “Very well, eternal bird, you may pass with him as honored guests of this realm.”

The stench of death becomes significant as you proceed along the plateau, even to one so attuned to this place and its theme. Jingwei mutters something to the red-haired Raijin escorting you, and he lets out a great shout, conjuring up an orb of flame that illuminates part of the enormous, endless cavern you are in. Wandering spirits, dressed to resemble the attending lesser celestials in Heaven, hurry to and fro, bearing platters of dusty fruit and jugs of vinegar.

A great boulder, the size of a mountain in the world of the living, juts out of the rock to the side. The gaps between it and the natural formations sealed with godly runes of indiscernible age. Judging by the cracks, it was shoved into the hole with great haste and strength.

A great festering heap of rotted flesh and stringy hair of slightly smaller size leans on to the side of the boulder, letting out a steady, simpering wail. A sickening sort of divine aura emanates from it, one sodden and downtrodden, almost indistinguishable from the scent of a youkai if not for its sheer magnitude. It is wearing naught but tatters of a funerary robe, not that it has anything left to cover but mottled skin and exposed bone. The familiarity is undeniable, this is...

Izanami.

Your soul’s origin.

Instinctively you reach out to the wailing goddess, but a sting on your hand jerks you back. It feels as though she had just cast Hew on you.

“Be careful there, Wu Zhenguo.” Jingwei casually informs, as she pops a grape offered by one of the spirits into her mouth. “You are a fragment of her, and if you get too close both physically and emotionally, you will lose yourself.”

“...Why did you bring me here then? If preventing reabsorption is the goal, shouldn’t I be further away? Unless, that’s your plan in some way?”

Jingwei remains silent for a moment, fluttering her wings and pacing back and forth, “Zhenguo, do you truly believe in happy endings?”

“No. The only consistent theme of this world is suffering, with mindlessness in death being the only reprieve…wait, what did I just say?!”

You stare as she addresses the rotting goddess rather than you in response. “Oh, Izanami, you and your defeatism from being trapped behind a boulder for untold millenia. Tell me, have you tried looking for any other way out? Have you considered how your Raijin can soar freely in the outside world and tamper with Izanagi’s designs, yet you yourself cannot because of an arbitrary restriction? There is, after all, no Hades of Japan to hold you back.”

Izanami only responds with a louder wail, shaking the ground and sending the spirits scattering.

‘’Of course, you’re hopeless. You’ve been stuck in Yomi for too long. That is why I brought one of your fragments who has tasted the sweetness of life to correct this issue. Normally you’d devour your wayward spawn as a snack, savor their memories for a brief moment, and then go right back to your pitiful grief. I intend on forcing you to try something new. Zhenguo...consume your origin. Make Izanami your meal.”

Jingwei states her idea as if it were no more than a choice of dinner.

“Jingwei, I know you’re a several millenia old bird, but…” You stare at the hill of rotting flesh in front of you, “Err…honorable Raijin, don’t you have any objections?”

The largest, the Great Raijin, merely scoffs, “We, the Ho-no-Ikadzuchi-no-Kami, are afforded passage to the living world only through not intervening with mother’s situation. Lady Nu...”

“Don’t call me by my old name, please.” Jingwei cuts in.

“...so Lady Jingwei is the only one here who can carry out a solution to the problem without moving the boulder, which is beyond our means. Though we know not of her motives, it is a functional suggestion, and mother cares not for such meaningless things such as dignity anymore.”

“I simply wish for Lady Izanami to have a happy ending. And I will freely admit it furthers my own goals. But since you’re hesitate, Wu Zhenguo... Ikadzuchi, hold him...”

You feel the thunder god grasps ahold of your flimsy spiritual form, not even giving you the freedom to struggle as they push you forward.

“Denial Flair: Force of Will...” A pebble lodges itself somewhere within Izanami’s rotting form, and the sapping effect the mass of rotting flesh had on you vanishes. “There,” The bird states, sucking in air at the exertion on her reserves, “I’ve temporarily canceled the last issue we had…I don’t really want to be so harsh, but it’s faster to just get this over with, now go, and...”

[x] Eat the goddess

The first bites were forcibly made as the Raijin shoves your face into Izanami’s form. You cannot retch, nor does the goddess’s foul flesh cause your already attuned spirit to recoil on a spiritual level, yet you still had to be forced to bite into the mildewed skin,and swallow the rancid contents.

[x] Swallow her blood, scrape her bones

You never feel any fuller, no matter how much you eat. You must’ve become a preta, a hungry ghost, as soon as you died, with the weight of your sins dragging you to that state even without the Yama’s judgment. Your jaw distends and your neck swells up to accommodate the increased volume of Izanami you ingest...

[x] Dig out the organs, crack the bones, eat the marrow

“I didn’t plan to do this, honest. But you are a fragment of Izanami who also happened to have the space to house another entity within you because of Thanatos. A statistically impossible natural occurrence, but one so convenient that I cannot allow this opportunity to pass. And really, it’s a better ending for you than rotting in Hell for a million years like her other shards.”

[x] Smash the skull, lick the brains off the ground.

There is no more Izanami. Your whole body is stained with black blood. You glance down at your grotesquely distended body, is it even your body? Is it even your soul?

But you are intact. The bird has not lied in that aspect. Even though your identity is more muddled than before…even though your desires are shadowed by the alcohol of a dead goddess…you are still you from before.

“Now that you’re a human vessel rather than a goddess, you can force your way out and back into the fleshy gristle you still have an attachment to in the living world. So go, Izanami,”
The bird declares as she, with a maniacal grin spread across her face, presses a pebble into your hands, “Deny your death and swim through the Sanzu River, and make another attempt at a happy ending, Izanami!”

======

As the bloated mass that is the new vessel of Izanami swims down the river. A goddess passes by on the river on another boat.

“Why this again?” Hecatia complains to the bird preening itself on the rocks, surrounded by empty pots of Raijin brew. “I don’t quite understand how getting rid of Izanami furthers your goal of filling up the ocean, yet you’ve already done this two times, only for her to always run dry quickly and get banished back to Yomi without even getting out of the cave!”

“It does further my goal, which I have told you back in Greece that it’s not that simple!” Jingwei complains back, “It’s always worth it to try whenever the opportunity arises, especially when the Garden above us is currently in a favored state for the process to complete. I’m not going through the cave this time.”

“You do remember that when we met, you were trying to peck out Poseidon’s eyeballs, right? And what do you mean by favorable state? Izanagi has already bailed out of the Japanese isles.”

“That lech deserved it...and no, having her fulfill her wish to drag Izanagi back down with her would take so long that I might as well try to directly murder him instead. No, I’m talking about one of the secret apparatus the incursion brought along with it.”

“The Thorists from the future? How do you know anything about their secrets?”

“...I have my sources that I’m not willing to share until this is over. And I am definitely not sharing them with someone as mean as you.”

The goddess remains silent for a few moments, then changes the topic “…Jingwei, answer me this, did Thanatos really hate us enough to deny his very origin?”

“Yes. He was very vocal about the fact that you guys retired peacefully after all the horrors you wrought on Greece. You might not agree, but he thought that gods were obliged to give their subjects a joyful life. He hated you for not doing so, and he hated them for their steadfast worship even as they dropped like flies from plague and famine. He did tell me to give the treasures he stole from the Heavenly Palace to Persephone though.”

“Sounds like I’m the one who should be burning rather that Eiki or him.”

“Probably, if only for your fashion sense.” The bird jabs.

Hecatia groans, conjures up Cerberus, and orders the dog to tug the bird down the rocks by the collar of her inner robe: the same primitive hemp robe that still smells vaguely of seawater from several thousand years ago, “You really are an eternal child, aren’t you? What in all of the world’s hells did Junko see in you?”

“I am just very good at convincing people to take drastic measures...just think of me as a very convenient device to move their stories forward.” Jingwei mumbles, not resisting the three-headed dog dragging her to Hecatia’s boat.

“For legal purposes, Eiki’s going to judge you for this, and formally throw you in Hell...and watch you swim out again because I’ve already lost count of how many times you skip over the river with denial...I never understood the Oriental Hell and their obsession with bureaucracy and procedure.” Hecatia shakes her head, “One more thing, why didn’t you tell him what you were going to do?”

“That he needs to defile and eat Izanami?” Jingwei shrugs, her tone slurring, “What’s the point? As long as it gives him a happier ending than his normal fate, the means are irrelevant. All that matters is the ending.”

Hecatia looks into Jingwei’s eyes. The same vacant, detached sort of eyes that Junko has, only even further devoid of anything tethering it to reality. There is nothing concrete behind her, physical or magical. And yet somehow she has bound her own folktale into what is very much a near godlike entity through naught but sheer denial.

If she were to somehow strip away all of Jingwei’s denials and delusions, would there even be anything but a few scraps of water-worn bones left? But Hecatia cannot. For unlike Junko, Jingwei is fully aware of her own denial, and yet accepts it regardless.

“Just because you’ve denied your own death does not mean that’s a palatable situation for others! We’ve never talked with each other properly, but just now I can see how Junko got her issues exacerbated!”

“And where would Junko be without it? Just anonymous bones scattered in some forgotten grave and not even a footnote in the Records of the Great Historian.” Jingwei shakes off Cerberus, sending him sprawling into the river, as the bird abruptly breaks her placid demeanor, “AND WHERE WOULD I BE? JUST ANOTHER UNFORTUNATE CLAIMED BY THE OCEAN!”

Hecatia tenses, recalling Cerberus and instead summoning forth her other bodies, surrounding the bird, “...You sent a lot of your fellow Chinese people down here, with Junko’s murder of Houyi corrupting the Xia’s mandate of heaven, and the following century of turmoil consuming China after Thanatos annihilated the Qing’s Mandate through his actions. What of them?”

“I don’t care if a thousand people, “fellow” Chinese or otherwise, are reincarnated. Nor a million, nor a billion.” Jingwei curls her left wing in front of herself as she raises her right arm, pebbles clutched between fingertips, “It is all a meaningless, endless cycle, so what is the issue with using it to fuel an actual, permanent happy ending? You seek one too for Junko, don’t you?”

“ENOUGH! If you will continue to say things like this in my domain, then you will receive Hell’s full response to your sins!” Hecatia finally allows her simmering irritation to boil over into the earth-rumbling anger of a Hellenistic god, induced by the bird’s sheer apathy.

All three bodies raise their hands and call upon their authority over the underworld, ”Wrath of the Gods: ’Furious Rain of Hell’!”

In response, the bird screeches and turns, abandoning her human form to reveal the monstrous form that’s a fusion between a storm petrel and a phoenix, “Another god to be denied, ‘Overwrite: Ink Over’!”