Welcome to this world. A world shattered by billions of delicate illusions, held together by a fine web of
power. A web of corruption. Welcome to a society on the brink of devastation, its city and buildings held
together only by dark harmony. And welcome to the new emerging revolution, a silent revolution sweeping
across the shadows, marked only by the essence of cybernetics and blood. For, after the fall of Crystal
Tokyo, after the fall of perfection, the fall from grace, humans are no longer what they appear to be.
Welcome to Tokyo 4027 AD – Tokyo Abyss.
bContext 1: Prelude of the Nightwalkers/b
Again the weather report had been wrong. Yet, that was to be expected. As the treacherous rain
tumulted down, hissing with an acidic tinge, everyone had already been long prepared. The question how
was simple enough – one didn't need the trust of someone else; they only needed the Network, accessed by
any diligent, crafty mind. Friendship outside a family was rare these days, and the matter of raw love
replaced by voracious lust. It was the type of mood this city was always in, struggling even in the darkness
to survive at all costs. Anything before the Fall was kept preserved, dying with the minds that remembered
Crystal Tokyo. Such thoughts were best to be kept to themselves.
And on the empty streets a lone figure stood: daunting, daring, face concealed by the shadows of a
cloak. Momentarily, the shadowed figure looked up, not minding the rain pouring down its face. Normally,
this would not go unnoticed; however, this rain was not a normal type of rain. Neither was this person a
normal type of person. If indeed it could be called a person at all.
There was suddenly a loud click, one that penetrated the constant dull thudding of the rain. The
figure immediately snapped its head to one side, hidden eyes identifying the source.
Another human appeared, this one a burly tall man, the typical square frame and squat features
marking an absence of intelligence on his face.
The first cloaked figure showed no reaction, and returned to staring at the rain.
"Hey, you!" The tall-squat man commanded, his voice resonating off the humid air. Of course, he
got no reply.
He himself was wearing the typical full body-covering armour of a self-promoted Officer, one of
the few strains of police still left with enough respect to govern/bully the citizens. And he felt pretty cocky
tonight, cracking his knuckles loudly in anticipation.
The figure continued to ignore him.
A reddish tinge was developing on his cheeks now, blossoming to cover his entire face. It was not
often that people ignored him, lest a lone figure with no apparent weapon of self-defense. He licked his lips
and tried again. "I said, you! Come here and face me!"
Rain continued to pour, and the Officer noticed for the first time that the figure's cloak did not
reach far enough to cover the acid-rain prone face. He stepped back in shock.
"You…"
Immediately, he withdrew his plasma-gun, charging towards the figure at full speed. There was no
mistaking now what type of person lay behind that cloak. The safety on the gun had long been released, and
he fired three precise shots, each one a lethal blast that left a bloodied mess of skin and smoldered flesh on
the target. And he continued to run, charging with his full armoured bulk at the cloaked person.
Almost lazily, the figure shifted to one side, letting him stumble past and fall in a loud clank of
metal. It stared with its concealed face almost amusedly at its own injured arm, as if the pain of the wound
was not part of it. Then, with the same arm, the figure pulled the cloak off its face.
And any sense of doubt on whether or not the figure was human was completely erased. The
person had a beautiful face, almost a bit too feminine, although worn down with a hardened, resigned look
of experience. Cropped dirty blonde hair and green-grey eyes flashed with unnatural radiance as sharp
canines protruding gently from each side penetrated rouge-coloured lips only slightly. And the figure
smiled.
The Officer's face was a mask of hatred and determination. "Die, bastard!" He screamed at the
other, shooting with his plasma-gun for all that he was worth.
Some of the bullets hit and exploded in a bloody mess, but others seemed to only recoil and
bounce off the target. And none hit the figure's beautiful almost angelic face. There was another click, and
only then did the Officer realize that he was out of bullets. He swore again, fumbling in his pocket for more
ammunition. And suddenly, he was face to face with the twin emerald-grey eyes, eyes that burned with icy
fire.
"Sorry," the figure sneered back in a stately refined tone, "but I'm actually a bitch."
And she opened her mouth to let her incisors shine a hidden gleam, enjoying the terror in his face.
Without the slightest warning, her mouth was along his neck, firm hands holding his broken armour-
covered body, preventing him from thrashing too hard as her canines pierced his skin.
Eventually, the body became still, and she withdrew from her meal, wiping the blood from her
mouth with the back of her hands in an absentminded fashion. She watched with amusement as some of the
warm crimson liquid still trickled down her hand, and gently licked it clean, reveling in the taste.
Another cloaked figure suddenly appeared in what seemed like thin air, to step beside the first.
The new figure also took off its hood, revealing a stunningly attractive face, wreathed in teal-green hair and
dark molten-blue eyes.
The first didn't even flinch, and continued to lick the offending blood off her fingers.
"You know, you should clean up before you eat." The teal-haired one commented, wrinkling her
face a bit in disgust at the first's mangled arm.
"Hnn." The dirty-blonde only said, and sensing her partner's displeasure, touched her own arm
gingerly. Immediately, a network of wires protruded from what would have been the burnt muscle tissue
from the flesh of the wound, wrapping themselves in multitude of tangles and electric sparks.
The blonde held up her newly-repaired arm, watching the interior muscle-simulated wires return to
reform their basic structure, while others still tattooed her skin. She bared her fangs in a smile. "Happy
now?"
The other purred, coiling herself seductively around her partner. "Not as happy as I'd like to feel."
"Oh, I can arrange that." The dirty blonde returned the coy smile, carrying her partner in her arms.
Both figures seem to waver for a moment before disappearing in the shadows. Only the mangled
corpse of the Officer, still bleeding quite freshly, was left in their wake. It gave the rats some satisfaction.
She was typing furiously on the keyboard, eyes furrowed in complete concentration when they
entered the room. Cropped raven-black hair flew around as deep violet eyes locked and identified the two
intruders.
"Took you long enough." She finally muttered, swiveling back on her chair to face the gigantic
screen again. Another furious round of typing ensued.
The teal-haired huntress shrugged. "Oh, it wasn't me. Haruka here decided that she might as well
stop and take a snack on the way."
The dirty blonde vampiress, Haruka, scowled, licking her tongue along her fangs. "Not my fault. I
was heading back when this Officer decided to so rudely intrude."
At that comment, her partner swatted Haruka softly on the shoulder. "You should have just
finished him off. It's not nice to play with your food," she teased, letting her mouth work into a smile.
Haruka arched an eyebrow at that comment. "Really? And who was it last time that decided to
make their prey a living sculpture hmm?"
"But it looked so nice in that pose." The teal haired-woman retorted, pouting a bit. "Don't you
think so, Hotaru-chan?"
Upon hearing her name, the raven-haired girl paused a moment. "I don't know Michiru," She
drawled, looking skeptically the teal-haired vampress, "But I don't consider live bodies with bones
protruding out of their skin to be very appetizing."
Michiru's pout grew in intensity. "Its not supposed to be food – its art!" She commented. Upon
seeing the bland looks her other two co-partners were giving her, the teal-haired woman finally resigned to
sulking silently.
Hotaru typed in a few key words before hitting a confirm key and turning back around. "So, did
you find it?" She asked eagerly, eyes almost gleaming with anticipation.
"Well, it depends on which 'it'", Haruka replied, revealing from her ammunition pouch a small
disc, no larger than a thumbnail.
The black-haired girl responded by almost squealing with pleasure. "That's gotta be it!"
Immediately, she snatched the object with a brusque movement, inserting it into one of the several tubes
laid out around the keyboard.
Michiru shook her head. "You know, every day like this just keeps on getting harder and harder.
Perhaps it would be better if we stopped drawing on money from our hired missions and looked for work in
other fields."
Haruka drew her face into a mock pout, quite strange-looking on a six-foot frame. "Aww… but I
like being a mercenary assassin at large – it actually gives me a good reason for killing people. "
"You know, we really should stop." Michiru countered, rubbing her temples. "Of course, we've
committed so many sins already that it's most likely too late to stop."
"I think it's a bit too late to be talking about sins." Haruka chuckled darkly. "After all, we are the
source of everyone's sin these days, aren't we?"
Haruka and Michiru had both lapsed into thought, leaving the only sound in the room a persistent
clicking on the keyboard. Both were thinking about their pasts now, and the events that had led up to this.
Frankly, neither Haruka, nor any of the others truly remembered what happened after the Fall of Crystal
Tokyo – in fact, they didn't really even remember what had caused the fall. The only thing that they could
recall was being re-created, re-granted lives, and set on the world once again to live against all odds.
In other words, they should have been dead. All of them, every single senshi that had fought
against the final battle, had died, along with their Queen and Crystal Tokyo. However, it was only by freak
chance that a team of revolutionary scientists had re-covered the outer senshi's bodies relatively intact, and
decided to experiment on them.
The result?
By interweaving the cybernetic core of the beloved Network database into the originally deceased
minds of the outer senshi, the scientists and experimentators had managed to revive them. The organs, not
able to function anymore, were replaced by a maze of circuitry, the brain's functions layered with silicon
transistors and tiny microchips with the same capacity as a supercomputer. And chrome, steel, and most
definitely, wires, replaced the nervous, skeletal, and muscular structure of the senshi.
No, they were no longer senshi; more like a strange combination of metal, computer, and human.
And they were not the first to be created in that manner – many had been made and served long before
them. What differed from them and the older forms of andriod-humans were only two things.
One: they had a complete, healthy mind with fully functioning memories, as well as leftover body parts and
tissues. However, their absence of a heart required a need for blood. Thus, they became vampires, draining
on blood to feed their own body and keep it living.
Two: No cyborg-human that had ever lived could establish a perfect link with the Network. However, the
original outer senshi were not ordinary humans; oh no, they were different and special. And so, their senshi
powers were manifested into the memory and database of the Network, granting them an altogether
different power. A different, and equally, if not more, destructive power. For all humans relied on the
Network, as without the Network, total chaos would ensue. One of the Network's (minor) responsibilities
was providing the technology and information that humans relied on. The other functions were so taken for
granted that they listed from predicting and controlling a makeshift human government to exercising a
power over humans. And the more a human linked with the Network, the more the Network manifested
itself into him. A human with a superior knowledge and accessibility of the Network database was known
as an Amplifier, the people whom others turned to in the times of crisis. It was the Network which solved
the problems of the humans, the Network which predicted the consequences and restricted unlawful
behaviour; the Network which preserved human society in general; the Network which gave access to
every piece of information ever created or dealt with. Yet, the Network also had a darker side – one that
only the most experienced knew and attempted vainly to suppress. And, that side was the side that had
manifested into the powers of the senshi.
In short, the newly re-created cyborg-outer senshi were no longer humans or even andriods,
forsaking their memories of the past. They had become part of the Network. And they abided and abused
its laws.
"Got it!" Hotaru's voice penetrated the thickness of Haruka's thoughts, jolting the sandy-haired
woman back into reality.
"Got what?" Haruka muttered, annoyed to have been distracted.
The raven-haired girl gave no verbal response but, instead, punched in a key. Automatically, the
screen displayed a variety of commands and functions, which flashed back and forth in variety of
wavelengths.
Michiru smiled, a triumphant look in her eyes. "Ha! Told you that that was the right part."
"Which means we'll be paying a heck of a lot for the price of this." Haruka replied negatively.
"I think it's more important that we got our communications link back up." Hotaru countered.
"Although it will take a while for it to function completely."
Haruka grimaced. "Damn. That means that we're still handicapped on any future missions."
"Yeah," Hotaru admitted, "But we're not going to be doing any missions recently if we can help
it."
Haruka and Michiru exchanged glances.
Michiru frowned. "Hate to break it to you, but Haruka is right. The price of that chip is going to
cost us more than you think."
Hotaru didn't like the sound of that. "Would you like to specify?"
"The price of that model of chip," Haruka repeated, "Is going to cost us another hired mission. A
mass assassination, you could say. And, it's at the heart of the Diet Force itself."
There was a minor pause as the dark-haired girl took in what the tall blond was actually saying.
"You've got to be kidding." Hotaru's voice was incredulous. "That place is so heavily guarded –
geez, last time I tried to hack into there, it ripped off my Datashield like it was a piece of paper."
Michiru nodded. "Prices are prices, and we got to pay for this, not matter what." She sighed,
fiddling absently with her aqua-coloured hair. "Demo, looks like we're going to need a lot of help to
complete this mission."
Without warning, the door flew open on the startled trio. Immediately, the three assumed offensive
stances, prepared for the worse.
A tall dark-green haired woman, sporting uncanny blood-red eyes looked at the trio in front of her.
"Setsuna!" Haruka exclaimed, a bit surprised. "Its good to see you again."
Setsuna nodded, acknowledging her cohorts. "Looks like I came back just in time."
Japanese terms used (very few)
-chan: a friendly term attached to the end of someone's name
demo: but
Author's notes: And thus commences yet another fanfiction. I really think I went through a lot of means to
defy every fanfiction law I originally held dear to write this. Reviews will be appreciated and any spams
will be glibly ignored. Arigato!
power. A web of corruption. Welcome to a society on the brink of devastation, its city and buildings held
together only by dark harmony. And welcome to the new emerging revolution, a silent revolution sweeping
across the shadows, marked only by the essence of cybernetics and blood. For, after the fall of Crystal
Tokyo, after the fall of perfection, the fall from grace, humans are no longer what they appear to be.
Welcome to Tokyo 4027 AD – Tokyo Abyss.
bContext 1: Prelude of the Nightwalkers/b
Again the weather report had been wrong. Yet, that was to be expected. As the treacherous rain
tumulted down, hissing with an acidic tinge, everyone had already been long prepared. The question how
was simple enough – one didn't need the trust of someone else; they only needed the Network, accessed by
any diligent, crafty mind. Friendship outside a family was rare these days, and the matter of raw love
replaced by voracious lust. It was the type of mood this city was always in, struggling even in the darkness
to survive at all costs. Anything before the Fall was kept preserved, dying with the minds that remembered
Crystal Tokyo. Such thoughts were best to be kept to themselves.
And on the empty streets a lone figure stood: daunting, daring, face concealed by the shadows of a
cloak. Momentarily, the shadowed figure looked up, not minding the rain pouring down its face. Normally,
this would not go unnoticed; however, this rain was not a normal type of rain. Neither was this person a
normal type of person. If indeed it could be called a person at all.
There was suddenly a loud click, one that penetrated the constant dull thudding of the rain. The
figure immediately snapped its head to one side, hidden eyes identifying the source.
Another human appeared, this one a burly tall man, the typical square frame and squat features
marking an absence of intelligence on his face.
The first cloaked figure showed no reaction, and returned to staring at the rain.
"Hey, you!" The tall-squat man commanded, his voice resonating off the humid air. Of course, he
got no reply.
He himself was wearing the typical full body-covering armour of a self-promoted Officer, one of
the few strains of police still left with enough respect to govern/bully the citizens. And he felt pretty cocky
tonight, cracking his knuckles loudly in anticipation.
The figure continued to ignore him.
A reddish tinge was developing on his cheeks now, blossoming to cover his entire face. It was not
often that people ignored him, lest a lone figure with no apparent weapon of self-defense. He licked his lips
and tried again. "I said, you! Come here and face me!"
Rain continued to pour, and the Officer noticed for the first time that the figure's cloak did not
reach far enough to cover the acid-rain prone face. He stepped back in shock.
"You…"
Immediately, he withdrew his plasma-gun, charging towards the figure at full speed. There was no
mistaking now what type of person lay behind that cloak. The safety on the gun had long been released, and
he fired three precise shots, each one a lethal blast that left a bloodied mess of skin and smoldered flesh on
the target. And he continued to run, charging with his full armoured bulk at the cloaked person.
Almost lazily, the figure shifted to one side, letting him stumble past and fall in a loud clank of
metal. It stared with its concealed face almost amusedly at its own injured arm, as if the pain of the wound
was not part of it. Then, with the same arm, the figure pulled the cloak off its face.
And any sense of doubt on whether or not the figure was human was completely erased. The
person had a beautiful face, almost a bit too feminine, although worn down with a hardened, resigned look
of experience. Cropped dirty blonde hair and green-grey eyes flashed with unnatural radiance as sharp
canines protruding gently from each side penetrated rouge-coloured lips only slightly. And the figure
smiled.
The Officer's face was a mask of hatred and determination. "Die, bastard!" He screamed at the
other, shooting with his plasma-gun for all that he was worth.
Some of the bullets hit and exploded in a bloody mess, but others seemed to only recoil and
bounce off the target. And none hit the figure's beautiful almost angelic face. There was another click, and
only then did the Officer realize that he was out of bullets. He swore again, fumbling in his pocket for more
ammunition. And suddenly, he was face to face with the twin emerald-grey eyes, eyes that burned with icy
fire.
"Sorry," the figure sneered back in a stately refined tone, "but I'm actually a bitch."
And she opened her mouth to let her incisors shine a hidden gleam, enjoying the terror in his face.
Without the slightest warning, her mouth was along his neck, firm hands holding his broken armour-
covered body, preventing him from thrashing too hard as her canines pierced his skin.
Eventually, the body became still, and she withdrew from her meal, wiping the blood from her
mouth with the back of her hands in an absentminded fashion. She watched with amusement as some of the
warm crimson liquid still trickled down her hand, and gently licked it clean, reveling in the taste.
Another cloaked figure suddenly appeared in what seemed like thin air, to step beside the first.
The new figure also took off its hood, revealing a stunningly attractive face, wreathed in teal-green hair and
dark molten-blue eyes.
The first didn't even flinch, and continued to lick the offending blood off her fingers.
"You know, you should clean up before you eat." The teal-haired one commented, wrinkling her
face a bit in disgust at the first's mangled arm.
"Hnn." The dirty-blonde only said, and sensing her partner's displeasure, touched her own arm
gingerly. Immediately, a network of wires protruded from what would have been the burnt muscle tissue
from the flesh of the wound, wrapping themselves in multitude of tangles and electric sparks.
The blonde held up her newly-repaired arm, watching the interior muscle-simulated wires return to
reform their basic structure, while others still tattooed her skin. She bared her fangs in a smile. "Happy
now?"
The other purred, coiling herself seductively around her partner. "Not as happy as I'd like to feel."
"Oh, I can arrange that." The dirty blonde returned the coy smile, carrying her partner in her arms.
Both figures seem to waver for a moment before disappearing in the shadows. Only the mangled
corpse of the Officer, still bleeding quite freshly, was left in their wake. It gave the rats some satisfaction.
She was typing furiously on the keyboard, eyes furrowed in complete concentration when they
entered the room. Cropped raven-black hair flew around as deep violet eyes locked and identified the two
intruders.
"Took you long enough." She finally muttered, swiveling back on her chair to face the gigantic
screen again. Another furious round of typing ensued.
The teal-haired huntress shrugged. "Oh, it wasn't me. Haruka here decided that she might as well
stop and take a snack on the way."
The dirty blonde vampiress, Haruka, scowled, licking her tongue along her fangs. "Not my fault. I
was heading back when this Officer decided to so rudely intrude."
At that comment, her partner swatted Haruka softly on the shoulder. "You should have just
finished him off. It's not nice to play with your food," she teased, letting her mouth work into a smile.
Haruka arched an eyebrow at that comment. "Really? And who was it last time that decided to
make their prey a living sculpture hmm?"
"But it looked so nice in that pose." The teal haired-woman retorted, pouting a bit. "Don't you
think so, Hotaru-chan?"
Upon hearing her name, the raven-haired girl paused a moment. "I don't know Michiru," She
drawled, looking skeptically the teal-haired vampress, "But I don't consider live bodies with bones
protruding out of their skin to be very appetizing."
Michiru's pout grew in intensity. "Its not supposed to be food – its art!" She commented. Upon
seeing the bland looks her other two co-partners were giving her, the teal-haired woman finally resigned to
sulking silently.
Hotaru typed in a few key words before hitting a confirm key and turning back around. "So, did
you find it?" She asked eagerly, eyes almost gleaming with anticipation.
"Well, it depends on which 'it'", Haruka replied, revealing from her ammunition pouch a small
disc, no larger than a thumbnail.
The black-haired girl responded by almost squealing with pleasure. "That's gotta be it!"
Immediately, she snatched the object with a brusque movement, inserting it into one of the several tubes
laid out around the keyboard.
Michiru shook her head. "You know, every day like this just keeps on getting harder and harder.
Perhaps it would be better if we stopped drawing on money from our hired missions and looked for work in
other fields."
Haruka drew her face into a mock pout, quite strange-looking on a six-foot frame. "Aww… but I
like being a mercenary assassin at large – it actually gives me a good reason for killing people. "
"You know, we really should stop." Michiru countered, rubbing her temples. "Of course, we've
committed so many sins already that it's most likely too late to stop."
"I think it's a bit too late to be talking about sins." Haruka chuckled darkly. "After all, we are the
source of everyone's sin these days, aren't we?"
Haruka and Michiru had both lapsed into thought, leaving the only sound in the room a persistent
clicking on the keyboard. Both were thinking about their pasts now, and the events that had led up to this.
Frankly, neither Haruka, nor any of the others truly remembered what happened after the Fall of Crystal
Tokyo – in fact, they didn't really even remember what had caused the fall. The only thing that they could
recall was being re-created, re-granted lives, and set on the world once again to live against all odds.
In other words, they should have been dead. All of them, every single senshi that had fought
against the final battle, had died, along with their Queen and Crystal Tokyo. However, it was only by freak
chance that a team of revolutionary scientists had re-covered the outer senshi's bodies relatively intact, and
decided to experiment on them.
The result?
By interweaving the cybernetic core of the beloved Network database into the originally deceased
minds of the outer senshi, the scientists and experimentators had managed to revive them. The organs, not
able to function anymore, were replaced by a maze of circuitry, the brain's functions layered with silicon
transistors and tiny microchips with the same capacity as a supercomputer. And chrome, steel, and most
definitely, wires, replaced the nervous, skeletal, and muscular structure of the senshi.
No, they were no longer senshi; more like a strange combination of metal, computer, and human.
And they were not the first to be created in that manner – many had been made and served long before
them. What differed from them and the older forms of andriod-humans were only two things.
One: they had a complete, healthy mind with fully functioning memories, as well as leftover body parts and
tissues. However, their absence of a heart required a need for blood. Thus, they became vampires, draining
on blood to feed their own body and keep it living.
Two: No cyborg-human that had ever lived could establish a perfect link with the Network. However, the
original outer senshi were not ordinary humans; oh no, they were different and special. And so, their senshi
powers were manifested into the memory and database of the Network, granting them an altogether
different power. A different, and equally, if not more, destructive power. For all humans relied on the
Network, as without the Network, total chaos would ensue. One of the Network's (minor) responsibilities
was providing the technology and information that humans relied on. The other functions were so taken for
granted that they listed from predicting and controlling a makeshift human government to exercising a
power over humans. And the more a human linked with the Network, the more the Network manifested
itself into him. A human with a superior knowledge and accessibility of the Network database was known
as an Amplifier, the people whom others turned to in the times of crisis. It was the Network which solved
the problems of the humans, the Network which predicted the consequences and restricted unlawful
behaviour; the Network which preserved human society in general; the Network which gave access to
every piece of information ever created or dealt with. Yet, the Network also had a darker side – one that
only the most experienced knew and attempted vainly to suppress. And, that side was the side that had
manifested into the powers of the senshi.
In short, the newly re-created cyborg-outer senshi were no longer humans or even andriods,
forsaking their memories of the past. They had become part of the Network. And they abided and abused
its laws.
"Got it!" Hotaru's voice penetrated the thickness of Haruka's thoughts, jolting the sandy-haired
woman back into reality.
"Got what?" Haruka muttered, annoyed to have been distracted.
The raven-haired girl gave no verbal response but, instead, punched in a key. Automatically, the
screen displayed a variety of commands and functions, which flashed back and forth in variety of
wavelengths.
Michiru smiled, a triumphant look in her eyes. "Ha! Told you that that was the right part."
"Which means we'll be paying a heck of a lot for the price of this." Haruka replied negatively.
"I think it's more important that we got our communications link back up." Hotaru countered.
"Although it will take a while for it to function completely."
Haruka grimaced. "Damn. That means that we're still handicapped on any future missions."
"Yeah," Hotaru admitted, "But we're not going to be doing any missions recently if we can help
it."
Haruka and Michiru exchanged glances.
Michiru frowned. "Hate to break it to you, but Haruka is right. The price of that chip is going to
cost us more than you think."
Hotaru didn't like the sound of that. "Would you like to specify?"
"The price of that model of chip," Haruka repeated, "Is going to cost us another hired mission. A
mass assassination, you could say. And, it's at the heart of the Diet Force itself."
There was a minor pause as the dark-haired girl took in what the tall blond was actually saying.
"You've got to be kidding." Hotaru's voice was incredulous. "That place is so heavily guarded –
geez, last time I tried to hack into there, it ripped off my Datashield like it was a piece of paper."
Michiru nodded. "Prices are prices, and we got to pay for this, not matter what." She sighed,
fiddling absently with her aqua-coloured hair. "Demo, looks like we're going to need a lot of help to
complete this mission."
Without warning, the door flew open on the startled trio. Immediately, the three assumed offensive
stances, prepared for the worse.
A tall dark-green haired woman, sporting uncanny blood-red eyes looked at the trio in front of her.
"Setsuna!" Haruka exclaimed, a bit surprised. "Its good to see you again."
Setsuna nodded, acknowledging her cohorts. "Looks like I came back just in time."
Japanese terms used (very few)
-chan: a friendly term attached to the end of someone's name
demo: but
Author's notes: And thus commences yet another fanfiction. I really think I went through a lot of means to
defy every fanfiction law I originally held dear to write this. Reviews will be appreciated and any spams
will be glibly ignored. Arigato!