Episode 1: The Shadow of Destiny - Part 1

Bring! Bring! Bring! Bring!

Ethan wrenched his head from the top of his desk, the three short bursts of noise ringing in his ear. He glared up at the bell, cursing it for it's unnecessary loudness. Finally, last period is freakin' over! He thought victoriously as he got up and slung his backpack over his shoulder. He had waited all school day to go train with Master Hamato. Sun filtered in through the windows of the English Rhetoric Classroom, warming the desk that Ethan held to steady his tired body while he got up.

"Mr. Dunn." His English professor called to him at the door and Ethan grimaced, knowing what was coming. Other students filed past him and he reluctantly turned to face "the Man".

"Yes, Mr. Randall?"

Mr. Randall adjusted his glasses on his long nose, that usual condescending concern dulling his already dark eyes. "The paper you turned in."

"Yeah," Ethan began quickly, putting his hands behind his back, feigning innocence. The guilt inside him rattled those iron bars. "I know, I could have done better."

With a shake of his head and a sigh, Mr. Randall rapped his knuckles on the paper in front of him. "Much better." He corrected. "You are a great writer, but you always seem to be doing your paper's last minute. It shows in your work and scars your potential."

"I know." Ethan said more quietly this time. "It's just – life has been . . . busy."

Mr. Randall gazed over Ethan's paper as if thinking about the excuse he had just heard. C'mon, just tell me I need to try harder and let me leave! If Sensei see's me walk in that door late again, he is going to pound me through an hour of gurandori at least. Getting whacked by a wooden sword did not sound like fun. Particularly after English had already beat him over the head again. "Being busy isn't an excuse. You're a teenager. What could you possibly be busy with?"

Ethan glanced longingly back at the door. Outside the tiny glass window of the English door, Kaela and Jess waiting for him just outside. Jess had a smirk on her face. She knew he was in trouble again. "I promise to do better." Too late, Ethan realized he had sounded hurried.

Mr. Randall grimaced. "Yes, you will. Or I will have to ensure that you do your paper properly. You will find that plenty of time is available in a detention cubicle."

"Yes, Mr. Randall." He nearly bowed out of habit and realized how ridiculous that would have looked. He had been spending too much time training. "Thanks for the advice – this has been a great chat – I'll just revise and come back!" He said, walking backward, back to the door. Mr. Randall didn't make another reply as Ethan flung open the door, closing it behind him and nearly barreling into Kaela and Jess.

"Let me guess, you waited until this morning to write your paper again, didn't you?" Jess said slyly, brushing her hair that Ethan's entrance had messed up out of her face and putting a hand on her hip. Jess had an impish smile, but a kind face, framed in light brown hair. She was only a few inches shorter than himself, making her rather tall for a sixteen year old girl.

Ethan stuck his tongue out at her. "Practice is more important than English!" he insisted as the three walked down the busy hallway of the school. Students nudged and bumped into them, eager to get home. "I mean – English is great and all, but what is more important – getting an 'A' in English or stopping a crazy alien invasion."

Kaela, who was even taller than Jess, pulled her dark hair behind her head and tied it into a ponytail. A rhinestone bracelet, reflecting light in every color of the rainbow and then some dangled from her wrist. "But remember, Ethan, we didn't stop those weird pink-brain alien's. Someone else did."

"True." Living in New York wasn't easy. Things in the last few years had gotten incredibly weird. Nearly two years ago, a giant silver dome had busted through the sky, shooting violet lasers in every which direction. That was when him and his friends couldn't do anything to fight back. Things had changed.

The second time, they had been training with Master Hamato for nearly a year. Unfortunately they had failed and watched New York crumble away in the wake of the alien invasion, but at least they had survived it. Just as they were planning a way to retaliate and save everyone, they had come back to New York and everything had been cleaned up – like it never happened. Master Hamato had silently witnessed, explaining nothing. Not that that was unusual for Master Hamato.

It was enough to drive Ethan nuts, but never enough to drive him to question his teacher.

Then – not even a few weeks ago, April and Casey, two relatively notorious teenagers at their school had vanished. Ethan had even spoken with April several times. Casey Jones on the other hand, he avoided like he would a gang member on the street. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he was in a gang, Ethan thought to himself.

April had been nice. Her tutoring skills had helped Ethan a year ago when he was struggling with trigonometry.

"I wonder what Master Hamato is going to teach us today." Kaela said excitedly, doing a spin down the hallway like a ballerina and allowing Ethan to emerge from his thoughts. Jess applauded her dance move, the coy smile still spread across her lips. "Hopefully not Gurandori." Jess vocalized Ethan's previous suspicion. Ethan eagerly pondered over their previous lesson. Meditation sessions he felt very fond of and he crossed his fingers behind him, his backpack pressing against his clothes, causing heat and sweat to slide down his back. The summer heat had not vanished away in the wake of a new year at school.

The three friends' feet pattered down the yellow steps of the school and past the metal detectors. The gleaming sun glanced off the sidewalk, bringing a wave of warmth with it that rushed over them as they opened the glass doors. Ethan shielded his eyes, the brightness leaving multicolored spots in his vision.

The New York streets were packed with busy-looking people, running down streets, shoving past people like they weren't there, or looking down at reflective touch screens, their fingers sliding against over the phones hastily. Ethan, Jess and Kaela moved their way against the far side of the sidewalk, closer to the shops to avoid having to dodge through bodies like deer through trees.

Jess nudged Ethan's shoulder. "So, what are you going to do about that English Rhetoric class?"

Ethan shrugged, not wanting to think about it. "Do my best, I suppose." he said lamely. His mind was more preoccupied with the forms they had been practicing with Master Hamato. Way more interesting anyway. They turned a corner, familiar from the neon green graffiti of the word "Cowabunga" plastered on it's side. A long alleyway, riddled mostly with empty cans with lids that looked like power saws and the smell of city street haze tipped him off to the dojo that he had spent most of his life at – or at least, what he could remember of his life.

The door to the dojo was small, and unlike the rest of New York, looked traditionally Japanese with long, splintered wood and paper-like screens. Ethan slid it open. "Master Hamato!" He called into the room. Tatami mat was soft under his feet. Only one window looked out to a tiny backyard, furnished like a Japanese zen garden, complete with white sand and smooth stone. Ethan took his shoes off and entered, Kaela and Jess on his heels. "Sensei?"

Jess, after unlacing her shoes and placing them by the door, straightened up again and looked around suspiciously. "Is he here?" she asked quietly.

Swack!

Ethan flipped over onto his stomach as something incredibly hard and sturdy struck him in the arm. The breath blasted out of his lungs in a painful gasp and he heard Kaela and Jess burst into laughter. Before he managed to get words out, they had slammed onto the ground next to him, laughter extinguished into similar coughs and gags.

Turning onto his back, he looked up, "What was that for?"

Master Hamato looked down at him, bald, wrinkles of care and wisdom etched into his features, wearing a white gi, traditional garb in Japan for a master, with the symbol of the Hamato clan sewn expertly into it's shoulders. He smiled down at him, gripping a wooden blade in his hand. "Wood or not, that still hurt!"

Master Hamato chuckled. "That was my fist." he said balancing the sword in his other hand. "The sword would have hurt much worse."

"Dang." Kaela groaned, straightening up, with trembling hands.

Jess rubbed her side where she had been struck. "I don't know why these sort of things should surprise us anymore." she managed to get out, her voice sounding an octave higher than usual.

Master Hamato chuckled. "Come. Retrieve your weapons."

He had crossed the room until he was by the back door and he sat, Indian style on the ground and motioned with a smile to the large cherry cedar cabinet that rested against one of the walls.

It was a fight to get to the cabinet first, but Jess was the quickest of them and managed to thrust it's doors open. She handed Ethan his naginata. The leather straps around it's slim, long wooden handle felt aged, and friendly in his grip. The blade at the top shone with a metallic gleam in the light of the overhead lamp.

"Remember, if you are to understand the innate power of your weapon and it's connection to your inner spirit, then you must practice it's use daily. This is how you shall begin, today." He said quietly. He then closed his eyes. "Hajime!" he snapped in Japanese.

Ethan grinned and spun the pole through his fingers smoothly, hearing the hum of the blade cutting through air. He let the weapon carry him, flowing around his body naturally like wind's movement around motion. He closed his eyes and drank in the bliss. This is where I belong. He thought to himself as he let the pole come to a stop, stretching his leg out to lower himself into a deep bow stance, blade out, the pole resting under his arm, against his side.

He glanced in the direction of his two best friends. Kaela had moved to the far end of the dojo. A flighty sapphire silk ribbon whistled around her as she moved like a dancer. Although it was hidden, Ethan knew from experience that the ribbon's end was tipped with a powerful, metal dart. He still had bruises to prove it. He had made sure to return the favor.

Jess, still near the cabinet, sported two kama's. The tiny scythes were deadly accurate and Ethan had always taken notice that Jess's same style in school, quick, accurate and with an appropriate flare of attitude, transferred over into the way she wielded the two weapons.

Training was life.

With every spin of his staff, a memory of school would fly away. With every strike that he made or stance that he rooted, he felt his stress get cut to ribbons and excitement settle in. Life was good.

"Yame."

At the command of Master Hamato, Ethan stopped and the three made their way to the center of the dojo and sat in Japanese seiza as he slowly stood. Master Hamato was old. Ethan had strangely never asked his age, but would guess it had to be somewhere in the eighty range. That was the lowest on his list of things he wanted to know and did not yet understand.

"My students," He said in his quiet, husky voice, his hands behind his back as he paced, "You have improved ten fold in the last two years, since your training began. If anything – you are unnaturally adaptive to the forms I have given you." Ethan smiled at the compliment, feeling the confidence rise inside him like a warm cup of mugi-cha during New York's freezing winters. Master Hamato continued, "I sense that you are all eager to face the creatures that have called themselves the Kraang. Yet – there is much the three of you do not know. Where you came from, who you are, and what lies ahead." he paused and turned, his back to them as he faced the garden outside the nearby circular window. He didn't say anything. He was pondering. Ethan was used to long sustained silences.

"Sensei," Kaela began quietly, even a bit timidly. Ethan and Jess simultaneously winced, knowing that sometimes interrupting his thinking landed another blow on their already bruised skulls. "Whenever you talk about this kind of stuff, I always get the feeling that you know exactly who we are and where we came from. Why can't you just tell us?"

Master Hamato turned and Kaela yelped, preparing for a strike, her ribbon in hand, but he only smiled. For several long moments he looked at each of their faces and Ethan had an uncomfortable, but not unfamiliar feeling that he was being analyzed. He tried to keep his face blank. "Destiny is a funny thing." He said quietly. "I know it is hard to trust my decision, but I have found in my years of experience, that destiny comes to us when the time is right – and hides it's face when it is damaging."

Ethan groaned. Master Hamato was being vague again.

He felt his sharp gaze and quickly corrected himself, "Sorry, Master, I just . . . I dunno . . ." He had no idea how to correct his action. "I apologize. I need to be more patient."

Master Hamato smiled and then turned back to face them. "You will not need to wait much longer, I fear. Things have been changing, my students." He continued. "You three are here for reasons of dire importance. A shadow from the past has already been cast on me . . . and you." He closed his eyes and placed his fingers on his chin, thinking again. "I believe that there are things you must come to understand – but I must meditate and determine what you must know." He sat back down. "You may go. Return home in time for an early retirement to bed."

"Hai, sensei." They chorused and they stood up, putting their weapons back into the cabinet and they hurried back out into the steaming alleyway.

Sirens were going off in the distance, the sound of walking feet and chattering people rang inescapably down every sidewalk. The many lights of New York began to appear in the increasing darkness. Ethan stretched his arms high into the air. "Rest of the day off!" he cheered to himself, although he felt a pit in his stomach.

"He always gets so close to telling us something good . . ." Jess trailed off as the three friends walked down the alleyway. "I'm hungry. We should go get something to eat."

"Mr. Murakami's is just down the street." Kaela suggested. "I love his ramen!" She licked her lips and laughed with Jess who equally had fallen in love with the old traditional Japanese restaurant.

Ethan laughed and shoved her gently, "Isn't that the weird guy who started selling pizza gyouza?" He asked accusingly, making sure to force a fake shiver through his body. "Sick!"

"Only 'cause you haven't tried any!" Kaela countered back, shoving Ethan back as they made their way out onto the street. The three laughed together as they walked down the busy road to Mr. Murakami's, whose restaraunt lay just outside the China Town district, iconic for the Dragon Gate that Ethan had always loved to pass. He could imagine himself spinning and twirling like he did in the dojo on the tiling of the roof of that archway. The dragon's that flanked it had cold stone eyes, long whisker like tendrils flew backward from their snouts and spines jutted from their backs. Clutched in their hands were stone orbs. Ethan wouldn't doubt that Master Hamato knew all the symbolism. He had lived in Japan most of his life after all.

Jess and Kaela practically dragged him over to the vending machine outside Mr. Murakami's. Large buttons indicated what could be ordered on the menu. Jess eagerly shoved her coins into the slot and pressed the button for Soy Ramen. Kaela, as Ethan predicted, got Pizza Gyouza. Ethan held off mocking her this time and stuck his hands in his pockets as he leaned in to pick his own. "Try the pizza gyouza!" Kaela said in a sing-songy voice as she paced around him.

Ethan rolled his eyes, "I don't want to waste my dinner on something gross." He pushed the button for Miso soup and picked up the wooden tile.

"Boring." Kaela whispered to Jess.

"Whatever."

The three went into the little door, a bell ringing to alert Mr. Murakami that he had customers. The restraraunt was empty, as usual. Ethan had always wondered how he kept himself in business when he never saw customers come here. Large posters of old Japanese cinema plastered the walls. The plump, blind man was busy working on a meal, but as always, he turned with a smile.

"Hey, Mr. Murakami!" Kaela chimed.

"Hello, Kaela-chyan." His thick Japanese accent was impossible to miss, as was his small smile. Black glasses covered his eyes. "Good to hear from you again!" he tapped the table, indicating that they could place their wooden tiles down. Kaela, Ethan and Jess quickly complied and he ran his finger over each of the images. "Pizza gyouza." he chuckled, "Wonderful choice."

As they sat down on the bar stools, Mr. Murakami went to work. "And how are you Jess-Chyan and Ethan-san?" he asked pleasantly.

"Same old!" Jess said quickly.

Mr. Murakami did not reply, lost now in his cooking.

Jess turned to Ethan and Kaela and propped her elbow on the bar, her chin on the palm of her hand. "So what is the favorite theory of the week?" She asked with a tinge of sarcasm. She had gone back to their old tradition.

"We are actually aliens from outer space." Ethan said grandly.

Kaela chuckled, "We are all actually Kraang!"

"I think I'd know if I had a giant pulsating, pink blob coming out of my chest." Jess contradicted.

"It also doesn't explain why we lost all of our memories up to three years ago." Ethan added.

Kaela shrugged, "True. But neither does alien's from outer space! New theory."

Ethan hummed under his breath, trying to think of one, as Mr. Murakami placed chopsticks in front of them. After hours of these conversations which were, at first, serious, and now ridiculous, he was beginning to believe that a solution would never be presented.

He gripped his chopsticks more tightly.

They didn't have to wait much longer before Mr. Murakami served their food. The stew was warm and sank into Ethan's stomach comfortably. Kaela even managed to get him to eat one of her pizza gyouza's. He didn't admit it, but it was fantastic.

They finished their food and returned home – the dojo.

Master Hamato was back in the garden. He was as still as the banzai tree's that encircled him, as quiet as the grass he sat on; as calm as the tiny river that flowed through the backyard, twisting back and forth and vanishing into a drain that had been disguised with several large rocks. His eyes were closed, his back straight. He would have looked like a perfectly crafted statue to the unaware.

A door on the far end of the dojo led to a room that the three shared. Futon's were their beds. Ethan paused in the entryway as the other two went to their room. His fingers itched for the familiarity in the grip on his naginata. "Ethan." Kaela said warningly. "Maybe you should come do homework with Jess and I."

Jess nodded, "If sensei throws our trash all over the floor for coming home normally, he will kill you if you come home with a bad grade."

Ethan hid his chagrin by looking back towards the front door and then nodded, "Um, yeah." he followed them into the room.

As he sat down and picked up his book, he glanced over it's pages, the lines blurring into one another. His head swam back to their conversation from Murakami's. Although they had turned it more into an inside joke, Ethan knew that it really bothered all of them, deep down. Two years ago, they had essentially woken up in the alleyway outside the dojo. Not a single memory from the past had appeared. Who were they? Where did they come from? Did they have real families? These questions, along with others, nagged at Ethan.

His eyes slipped closed and he mentally slapped himself back awake, starting. He hadn't even read another line before his eyes slowly closed, his soul feeling like it was slipping down into a tunnel.

Where the heck am I? Ethan could have sworn he had been doing his homework at home a second ago. He spun around, trying to get some bearing to where he was.

Decorative oak trees.

A splashing fountain.

Tall skyscrapers around him – definitely New York.

Then his eyes stopped on a large, white arch. Washington Square Arch.

How'd I get to Washington Square Park?

His brain hurt. He couldn't remember walking here.

The park was abnormally empty, the sky dark. Maybe I should walk back home. He thought uselessly. As he made his way to the arch, a sound stopped him. It was an odd electronic sound, similar to a jet, but with an almost alien quality to it. He stopped in mid-step and looked towards the source, the sky. The noise pierced his ears and wracked his body and he spun to see . . . something.

What is that?

They were ships of some-sort, although they looked more like odd looking pyramids with glowing orange lights. They soared smoothly through the night towards him. Held from their pointed tips were strange purple, glowing strings, as if the pilots of the crafts had doused rope in neon paint. Hanging from these glowing strings, between the three ships, was a huge, metallic bracelet. Or – at least, that is what it looked like. The crafts slowly began to lower it over the circular fountain. It fit almost perfectly.

Realizing himself, Ethan quickly sprinted up the last few steps in Washington square park, his muscles pumping with adrenaline as he hid behind a nearby tree. The glow of orange washed over him and he felt his hands trembling. What is going on?

A resounding thump told him that they had dropped the massive, circular tech and the sound of the accelerating ships vanished into the night.

He peered from behind the tree at the ring. A shadow stirred by the large white arch monument. He was not alone. Kaela and Jessica were there. The two hid behind the white archway, heralded by statues and inscriptions. Their attention drawn to the same strange object the ships had deposited. "Jess! Kaela! What the heck is going on?" He made his way out from behind the tree.

"Ethan?" Jess emerged from the arch. "Wait – I'm dreaming you too?"

Ethan frowned. "You are?" For a stupid moment he wondered if he was just a figment of her dream. He mentally slapped himself. That doesn't make any sense.

"I'm confused – why are we in Washington Square?" Kaela asked. She stepped forward and slowly placed her hand on the strange, metal ring. "I . . . I'm so lost."

"You're preaching to the choir, here." Ethan muttered under his breath. He ran his fingers through his ginger hair as they looked around. His eyes rested again on the strange, chrome-colored tech that now ringed the fountain. He reached out and touched it nervously. It was cool to the touch.

"Maybe we are aliens." Kaela said.

"Yeah!" Ethan replied, "And maybe our UFO is going to come take us home to Mars!"

She had head the sarcasm and glared at him. Ethan smiled back.

"Shh!" Jess hissed.

An amber glow had begun to appear around them, forming together in tiny triangular bits, like pixels. Ethan looked up, squinting against the sudden unexpected light. A shadow was descending. Something – or someone, was coming down on top of them.

Jerking upward from his paperwork, Ethan lifted his head, feeling a trickle of drool on his chin. He wiped his face with his sleeve. He was in their dimly lit room. Posters of Chris Bradford, their books and clothes were strewn on the floor. He was home. Jess and Kaela were waking up, old text books propped open in their laps.

"What the—." Ethan muttered.