New Generation

Book 1: Wings of Change

A Megaman [Battle Network] Fanfic by Zelloss

zellossmetallium@msn.com

Author's Note: This isn't the true first chapter. Well, it wasn't the original first chapter, anyway. This is a rewrite, as the rest of the book will soon become. Why? I'm REALLY beginning to hate the first book for some unknown reason. So I decided to rewrite the first part of the New Generation story line... Or, if you're a new reader, none of this really matters... A number of characters have been changed, removed, and/or added in from the original first book, so don't expect it to be near the same... Oh, and one last thing. The point of view may change at times, watch near the start of each section for a line in brackets; a line in brackets indicates who's point of view it is. Third Person just means it's told from the outside and not from somebody's point of view.

Chapter 1: Spite of a Child

(Third Person)

"Battle Chip, High Cannon! Slot-In!"

The thin, green figure raised one simple, gloved hand. It warped in a haze of cyan data, and when it reformed only a moment later, his hand ended in a large blue cannon.

"Take aim, and fire!"

The green figure stared across at his opponent, somebody much more impressive. The enemy, a tall man with a silver helmet and golden-white body armor, also had a great pair of silver angelic wings projecting from his back, a silver sash crossing the front of the armor. As he studied this figure, he also fired, releasing a single powerful shot from the cannon-arm, which instantly reverted to its normal form.

The angelic, rich figure seemed to laugh at this attempt, shooting up from the ground in a graceful leap. The wings spread out behind him, making him seem much more threatening, and a cruel smile spread under golden-colored eyes, barely visible under the helmet. He landed right in front of the green figure, who turned to run.

The green man was too slow, and a strong punch from the holy figure sent him crashing a fair distance across the bluish grid that formed the floor.

"Come on, get back up!"

Even the encouraging cry couldn't help, because by the time the green man was up, the other was behind him again, now wielding one single long white sword. In one slash, it was through the body of the green figure.

The dark green figure, without a single cry, split into two, which immediately turned a cyan tint. They swirled for a moment, formed the words 'LOGOUT', and disappeared into the sky, swirling about.

"Oh, not again!"

Back in the real world, the boy who had lost the contest stared hard at the other boy who had defeated him.

"I told you that you couldn't win" the other boy smirked cruelly. He had bleached bangs, the rest of his short black hair acting as quite the contrast and covering his ears. Two slightly cruel and sadistic green orbs punctuated his slightly dark skin. Something in them reflected power, something the boy probably knew. And money, too. That feature, the possibility of being from a very well off family, was reflected in the golden chain hanging around the boy's neck, overtop of his fine red long-sleeved shirt and baggy blue jeans with the gold-clasped belt, and the gold-plated watch on his left arm. He looked mature and rugged at the same time, quite handsome for his age.

The boy grabbed his PET and pulled it away, glaring over at the winner. This boy, who our story shall focus more upon, had a long mass of deep purple hair which fell over his shoulders and down a bit of his back. To match those, in his fair skin and joyous young 8 year old face, was two brilliant purple eyes, shining even in defeat, when his lips were in a sharp frown. He didn't look near as rough or as powerful as the other did, with his simple blue T-shirt and his navy blue jeans, just the same as most everybody else in the area. "So what if you won this round?"

"Hayato, don't try to fool yourself" the richer boy laughed. "You know yourself how strong I am, you know that I am one of the top netbattlers in the world." He laughed darkly. "So why do you insist on challenging me?"

"Because," Hayato smiled, "I know that I should eventually be able to win, Otoyo. It doesn't matter if you're one of the best, you're still beatable." At those words, his confidence was restored in his own abilities. Otoyo wasn't lying though; he really was one of the best in the world.

"You're not your father" Otoyo smiled. "And even he could never beat me."

Hayato growled. "You were born after my father disappeared, you know he could never challenge you!" Hayato reasoned, snapping at the slightly older netbattler.

"He still wouldn't have been able to beat me" Otoyo smirked. "Now, if you don't mind, I have other, more important business to attend to. Good bye."

Otoyo spun on his expensive shoe and walked right out the door of the arcade. The crowd around was dissipating. It was about time, too. They had all watched in awe, just from the thought of seeing one of the best in the world in action. Hayato glared at him with every step, then turning back to the virtual arena, he gave it a punch, stood up, and walked out.

"Hayato?" somebody called after him, but Hayato didn't stop to answer the young female voice. He walked right out of the building, and the voice followed.

"Hayato..." a young girl caught up to him. She had shimmering natural red hair, which fell even longer then that of the boy, down almost to her waist. She had brilliant, shining blue eyes an incredibly kind face, a child beauty in a slightly puffy red T-shirt and a pair of white shorts. A single emerald earring hung from her right ear, reflecting the smile in her face in its small depths. "I know you lost, but..."

"I know I lost, Aera!" Hayato snapped back at her angrily, his face didn't quite seem to be too cheerful anymore. "And I know, too, that there is no way I can win. He's right, he's too good for me."

"He's a rich punk who thinks way too much of himself" Aera snapped back at him, using the only real weapon she had against him: sheer, snappy reason. "You and I both know it, why do you continue to bother with him?"

"L... Listen..." Hayato shook his head. "You're not expected to understand, Aera. What were you even doing here? Weren't you supposed to be taking piano lessons with Sasama?"

"That's tomorrow" Aera growled. "You're trying to change the subject, aren't you?" she crossed her arms in mid-step, keeping up with Hayato's fast pace as he walked along the cement streets beside the small shops which abounded this sector of the neighborhood.

"So what if I am?" Hayato turned a corner, walking past a motel and speeding up his pace. He slipped his hands into his pockets.

"You're being rude again," Aera pointed out, "You're really rude when you do that."

"Oh, screw off" Hayato swore, using vocabulary above what a child of his young age should have known. This made Aera freeze in mid-step.

"Well, fine!" Aera shouted after him. "Fine, see if I care! You can just go on losing!"

Hayato ignored her wails, now alone as he headed towards his home, which was now only a couple blocks away. Tomorrow school would be starting up again, time to begin the fourth grade. He kept his head down as he thought about everything. What teacher would he have this year? He tried to remember. Oh, that was right, it would be Ms. Ryder this year. Hayato had never had her before, would she be nice? What would be her reaction?

He didn't dare consider what it would be. Other students had said she was a bit rude and obnoxious, age had gotten to her. Did it matter much to Hayato? Not really, she'd probably have a similar reaction to every other teacher Hayato had had.

Without even realizing it, Hayato crashed into somebody. He fell to the ground, quickly removing his hands from his pockets to brace himself as he hit the cement. He looked at the man he had hit.

This man was fairly well aged, with short and slightly spiky orange-to-brown hair and a battle-hardened face, one short scar down the left cheek. Something about his green eyes reflected power, just the way that Otoyo's had, except perhaps this was greater... or less. It definitely was not the same level Otoyo's eyes reflected, that was for sure. And this man's clothes were somewhat richer, the near-business folded navy blue shirt with the white undershirt and no tie, and the blue jeans with a golden stripe running down the front of the left leg, something between formal, casual, and flagrant. A pair of brown fingerless gloves covered his hands, and his knuckles looked red and almost raw, certainly not from the fall. A PET hung at his side, like normal.

The man surprisingly smiled. "Sorry, kid..."

"No, I wasn't watching where I was going" Hayato shook his head quickly. "I bumped into you, sorry..."

The man laughed heartily. "No need to be sorry, I wasn't watching either" the man's eyes inspected Hayato. "That hair color... and the eyes... they say a lot."

Hayato blinked. "I get that a lot."

"You're Zel's son, aren't you?" the man smiled. "Hayato, right?"

"H... How do you know that?" Hayato demanded, startled. "How do you know my name?"

The man laughed heartily once again, standing up and helping Hayato up with one hand. "I've known you since you were a baby, Hayato. You've grown up a lot, you don't look anything like the same child."

Hayato seemed slightly freaked. "Listen, I don't know how you knew me when I was younger, but this is freaking me out and I need to be leaving. Good bye!" Hayato gulped, and ran past the man, who smiled as Hayato looked over his shoulder for a moment.

"Well, at least he's not following me... who was that?" Hayato thought to himself, as he rounded the last corner and turned onto a lawn, running up to the door of his small house, a simple two-floor house near the middle of town. Well kept, though it could use an extra painting from its light blue color. It was beginning to bug Hayato. Maybe a darker tint of blue, that might be better. Hayato swung open the door and walked in.

"Uncle, I'm home!" Hayato called through the house, leaving his shoes on a mat in front of the door. He kicked them aside and walked inside. "Uncle!"

"How nice to see you're home, boy!" a voice called out from inside. "Been battling again?"

"Yeah" Hayato admitted, stepping into the blank living room. His uncle was leaned over a bunch of papers on the living room table, busily working on them. He had a long mass of blonde hair, and when he pulled it out of the way, you could never see his eye color because he always wore shades. He never, ever, ever removed them, and wore them so close to his face and in such a manner that you couldn't peak along the sides, either. He was a tall man who was somewhat thin, though he had a slight hint of a muscular power in him, though it was not as definite in his body as it was before. He was wearing casual for now, a simple black long-sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans. "Otoyo's beginning to bug me, he keeps winning."

"Otoyo, eh?" Hayato's uncle laughed. "I thought I told you that you could win by..."

"I didn't get a chance to test it out" Hayato admitted. "He didn't leave himself open for it, like he knew that the moment he did..."

"Well, I'm sure the opportunity will come up soon enough. Now then," uncle Juru looked back at his papers. "Now then, I need to return to my work. The ONBA is looking for somebody new for the science team, so they drop it on me to sift through tons of applicants..."

Hayato laughed out loud, walking past his uncle to go upstairs. He needed to get ready for school, tomorrow. First, he needed to find his backpack. And who knew where he had left that.

-- -- --

(Hayato's P.O.V.)

My family is in some state, eh? I live with my uncle Juru. He's a nice guy and everything, but we never really could 'click' like as if he was a parent. I don't have any siblings, though I often wish that I had some older, strong brother who'd back me up. And as for my parents, well...

My mother died a couple years ago. It was some variation of cancer, something like a virus, which killed her in the end. It was hard, losing her. After all, father was never around.

I never did know my father. He disappeared when I was not even a year old, and nobody has seen him since. It's bugged me a bit, how I seem to remember him though.

I did 'meet' him once, I believe it was three or four years ago. It was scary, because I was running home from the playground, because I had left too late. So I took a shortcut down an alley.

And there was this really freaky guy standing there, looming over me, and it seemed like as I got closer, night fell faster and the shadows got bigger. It scared me, but it made me curious.

The man's black clothes, thin and made for running, were torn and dirtied, stained with blood here and there. The left sleeve was totally torn off, and his arm was scarred. What kept me from running was curiosity; the man's eyes and hair were the same odd, unnatural tint as mine. I didn't approach him, I didn't move away.

He came to me, and dropped a PET and some battle chips for me, and then took off, staggering away. And when I ran home the rest of the way and showed them to mother, she locked them up, scared for my safety for some reason. Why would that be, what was so bad about this PET and chips that she'd have to lock them up?

But she did confirm it for me, later, as she lay dying. She did say those had belonged to my father. She refused, of course, to give me the key to the lock. She said it would be too dangerous for me to try to handle, like there was some kind of dark, secretive curse on it that I wasn't supposed to know.

So I never got the answer I was looking for there. But yes, at the very least, I knew my father was out there... somewhere... Whether he was alive or not was a matter still to be answered, but I had strong faith in the man who had given me life.

I never did, however, get to use that PET or those chips...

-- -- --

"Grausherra, huh?"

A couple kids, who I had never before had in my class, turned and stared briefly. That's my name, Hayato Grausherra. It gets me a lot of looks, looks of curiosity, of distaste, of awe. I had grown used to it.

Ms. Ryder, with her cruel face, glared down at me. "I hope this isn't foretelling anything, young man" she growled. "I certainly hope you'll prove to be a productive member of this class. Unlike your father, who if I'm right, never even went to school..."

There were several snorts from nearby kids. I glared back at her.

"I can see it in those eyes, you have a defiant spirit, kid. Well, know that I'm already onto you, and the moment you make one mistake, you'll be out of this school faster then you can say..."

I focused my will. I focused on causing something to happen that would stop this. For some reason, if I focused hard enough, something would always happen. I figured it was most likely simple dumb luck.

There was a crash, as one of the other students slipped out of his chair and knocked over his desk, sending his books tumbling. Ms. Ryder's glare was broken as she moved over to help the boy, as the other students laughed and snickered.

She tossed me one last, dark look, before focusing her full attention on the student. Dumb luck succeeds again.

-- -- --

"Oh, don't worry about it!" Aera cried after me. "Listen, you can't let her get on your nerves. Nobody's gotten on your nerves before; nobody is going to get on your nerves now. Got it?"

"Everybody gets on my nerves, Aera" I looked back at her, shaking my head.

"And they have ever since your mother died" Aera pointed out. "Get over it, Hayato!"

I turned and stared hard at her, my breathing deepening and my blood boiling. "Oh, that's easy for you to say! You haven't been left with a relative who you barely know and who barely cares for you after losing every other member of your family!" I shouted at her, furious.

Aera froze, then she seemed ready to cry. She ran over to me, grabbing me around my neck. "I'm... I'm sorry, Hayato! I really am!" she cried. "I'm sorry if that hurt you, I didn't mean to be so rude..."

I looked down at her, being a bit taller, as she rested her head on my shoulder. It was awkward for a moment; then I realized she was crying for nothing. "I... I'm the one, who's been rude all this time, so don't you cry about it." I admitted, though I really didn't like it. "So I should be the one apologizing."

Aera slowly pushed herself off of me, wiping away the beginnings of a tear. "Sorry, I shouldn't have acted so silly just now..." she cried. I must have looked slightly confused; this girl was confusing me. Perhaps I'd understand what nonsense she was on about when I was older.

"Let's forget about this whole mess..." I smiled lightly at her, turning away. "I'll see you around, okay?"

Aera didn't respond, nor did I hear her walking. So I left the school grounds and walked home.

The walk was uneventful; I took the same route as always. It didn't bother me much, this simple monotony in my life. But today, I did turn off to go down one of the back alleyways in the small industrial district between school and home. This day happened to be the wrong one to do that.

"Hey, kid..." I froze upon hearing the words. I hadn't noticed the several dark figures circled around me. "You aren't going anywhere, are you?" the shortest asked. He walked towards me, and I spun to face him. He had short, spiky black hair and a white bandana, and dark eyes. His slightly muscular body was wrapped in black cloth and sharp black pants. "At least, I hope you're not going anywhere without paying the toll for using our shortcut."

"Since when...?"

"Since now" the man beside him responded, much taller. He had flaring red and spiky hair, and burning red eyes to match, his tall body covered over in a black trench coat, so I couldn't see much else. The man grinned cruelly. The others were not worthy of description. They were your basic street punks.

The tall man reached over for me, and I tried to dive away, but another one grabbed my collar. In mid-dive like I had been it caught on my throat and caused me to gag. The one who was holding me lifted me back into my standing position, then grabbed onto my shoulders hard.

I looked defiantly to the tallest, who was probably the leader. "What do you want?" I asked.

"Oh, it doesn't matter much" the man grinned. "Money, food, booze, rare battle chips..."

"Don't have any of them, sorry" I responded.

"Really? Search him, boys!" the leader laughed, and I felt one hand tear away the backpack that had been hanging off my shoulder. There was a rustling, and another one grabbed my PET and battle chips from my belt. I gave a tiny yelp, turning towards them. But the hands on my shoulders became stronger, rooting me to the spot.

"This kid really doesn't have anything..." the short black-haired man muttered, tossing my PET against a wall. I saw a bit of the casing shatter. "Well, what can he offer us?"

"If he was a woman, it would be obvious" one of the random punks snickered. I wondered what he meant.

"Oh, get your blasted mind off of it" the tallest growled, and the punk shut up suddenly. "Maybe, though, we can still have some fun with this kid" he cracked his knuckles. "I mean, I've been meaning to relieve some tension all day!"

"But..." one of the gang members was somewhat plump, and he was speaking up finally, slightly timidly. "Look at his hair and eyes... he's a Grausherra! How do you know he won't..."

"He's only a child" the tallest laughed.

"But, Dashwin..." the plump man pleaded. "You... You can't be serious about this! I mean, what if he isn't just like any other normal kid!"

"I think I know when I can take a risk..." Dashwin laughed, cracking his knuckles again. And then it hit me, what he was about to do. I started to struggle wildly, kicking backwards.

"Hey, Hiei, hold the kid" Dashwin commanded. The short black-haired kid moved into place, stamping his foot down hard on my left foot and holding my left arm hard behind my back. Another one grabbed me and restricted me in the same manner, leaving me helpless.

I growled up at Dashwin, before he pulled back. I braced myself for impact.

It hit harder then I had expected. One strong shot, straight to my gut. My lungs emptied, and I spat out, ducking my head down and breathing deep to try and recover. It stung. It stung a lot. I had to cough a couple times, from pain and the fumes of the nearby factories, but before I was finished, I felt another blow.

The thugs around me were laughing. Hiei twisted his hands, and I shouted out, lifting up my head. Oh, that hurt like hell!

I hoped to god that there would be some unlikely coincidence around to save me this time.

-- -- --

(Juru's P.O.V.)

I walked slowly towards the industrial section of town. Why the ONBA would choose such a dirty, seedy place for its headquarters here was beyond me, but that's what they did. It confused me to end, how anybody could stand the light fumes constantly. They made me gag; I had forever been used to fresh air.

That was when, briefcase in hand, I had seen those punks attacking a kid. No, wait. That wasn't just any kid; that was Hayato!

I threw the briefcase to the side in the alleyway; I didn't hear it hit the wall through the noise of Hayato's yell, as the one attacker landed a sharp blow across his face.

"Hey, punks!" I called out, adjusting my shades.

The heads of the punks turned, and so did Hayato's head, bruised and battered. Something resembling a smile spread across his face at seeing me, but he wasn't obviously too thrilled. Was he hoping for somebody better?

"Who are you?" one of the punks demanded.

"Drop that child, you bastards, or there'll be hell to pay" I glared hard at them. It was lucky for them I was wearing the shades, if they had've seen my gaze at that moment... well, let's just say that if looks could kill, I would have massacred.

They were still slightly frozen, then the punk growled "and who do you think you are?" and swung a punch at me.

My arm came up to meet his punch in mid swing, his fist hitting hard on my bicep. But it didn't matter too much. I didn't feel it at all.

"Is that all? My turn" I growled, and swung my right arm right upside his jaw. With one strong punch, I could hear the crack and the punk spun backwards. He crashed hard onto the cement alleyway, unconscious.

"Get him!" the black-haired punk cried out, the one who was holding Hayato. They both dropped him, and came after me. That was good. The one attacker, though, stayed back, and Hayato slunk off to the side.

I counted; one, two, three, four, and five. "Is this seriously all you can send after me?" I demanded, startled. "Oh, pathetic!"

The first reached me, and I punched him hard in the chest before he even began to get his fist close to me. He flew backwards a bit, bumping the man right behind him. I drove myself down into the ground, ducking a punch from another, and then launched myself up, driving my boot hard into the man's chest, sending both him and the one behind him crashing into the wall. I felt my blood pumping.

Hayato was watching me in awe, I could see it as I spun, and dodging another fist aimed at my head by another of the punks. I grabbed for anything handy, and found myself gripping the arm of the fourth punk and using his momentum and weight to slam the third upside the head with a fist, pulling the punk in front of me in the same move. Then, with a roundhouse kick, I drove the fourth into the wall. So that left the midget and me.

I blinked again. Okay, the midget, his big katana, and me. I blinked. "Nice to see somebody here can provide one tenth of a challenge."

"One tenth?" the short man growled. "I'll show you! I'm more then a match for you, fucker!" he swore, diving at me.

He was fast; I had to admit that. I had to flip backwards, springing off my palms to get away in time to dodge the swing. "Okay, three tenths."

"Grr..." the man growled. "I'll show you how great of a swordsman I am! You'll die right here and now!" the man growled, diving for me.

I sprung up into the air, to dodge the low slash he made. I was surprised at how quickly it changed direction. I twisted, but I was a bit too slow, it slashed into my quadricep, tearing it open and beginning a hot crimson flow. I clenched at it as I landed, the landing causing it to gush and causing me to stumble.

"Uncle!" I heard Hayato call out.

"Is this... the best you can do?" I grinned, standing up straight despite the injury.

The swordsman looked taken aback at this comment. "What the hell...?"

A moment later, I was in front of him, the blood from my gash in my palm. In one move, I brought it up and splashed him in the eyes with it.

The fencer, who I finally recognized, jumped backwards. This man, how could I not have known? Hiei Karann, who I had more then once dealt with before. He was the only swordsman punk within a thousand miles of this area. So would that make the other Dashwin? Of course! Why hadn't I thought of it before?

Hiei swung wildly, shouting curses. In his fury, he was easy to dodge. All I had to do was pull backwards. Then, one good shot, and I had broken his nose and sent him sprawling backwards, his head knocking against the pavement and knocking him out.

I laughed harshly. "I told you that you wouldn't be much of a challenge..." I grinned, and looked up at Dashwin. "Dashwin Setsun, am I correct?" I demanded.

Dashwin jumped in his skin, before walking over to me and pulling a fighting stance. I could sense his will to fight. I didn't really want to injure him; I bore the man no real ill will. Not enough to want to kill him, anyway. I got a much bigger high over seeing them scared, anyway.

"Dashwin, do you know who I am?" I grinned. Dashwin shook his head. I moved to the side, putting Dashwin's tall form between Hayato and me. I didn't want the boy to see this. Dashwin was even slightly taller then me, and Hayato was crouched down behind us.

I gripped the shades, and let them slide off my face for only a fraction of a moment. Then I readjusted them, covering my eyes wholly again.

Fear swept across Dashwin's face just at the look from my eyes. My cruel eyes.

"No... it can't..." Dashwin gaped. "You can't be..."

I raised one hand to my mouth, raising a finger to indicate silence. "Quiet now, Dashwin" I laughed. "You poor baby. Now, apologize to Hayato for attacking him, agree never to speak of this, and run off now like the coward you are, and I'll forget about reporting you to the authorities... or worse, taking care of you myself!"

This threat held water, and Dashwin turned immediately to my son, bowing low. "I'm sorry, young man, I apologize honestly for hurting you against your wishes" and then, just like that, Dashwin was off, running down the streets and gone, abandoning his barely alive allies.

-- -- --

(Hayato's P.O.V.)

Dashwin took off running, just like that at my uncle's request. What kind of secret was my uncle hiding behind those shades anyway? It must have been something incredibly scary and powerful to have that kind of effect on such a strong man.

I had never seen my uncle fight before; I had not suspected him to be so incredible in it. I had had to, more then once, shut my mouth to avoid drooling. It was... how could I put this? Sugoi, totally cool! I never would have ever, ever suspected that my uncle could do that!

"Uncle, thank you" I bowed, standing back up and recovering my energy after the beating I had taken. "Thank you a lot..."

My uncle knelt down beside my backpack, picked it up, and tossed it over to me. "Yeah, don't mention it. I knew I was bound to run into them again sometime."

"Again? You mean...?"

"Old... acquaintances" my uncle grinned maniacally. "But it's none of your business" his face fell back to normal again, "here, let me help gather up your stuff..."

I walked slowly over to my PET, which had been thrown at the wall, and picked it up. There was no image, no hum of it running. What? I looked closely at it, and hit the power switch. A couple times.

Nothing happened!

"Uncle! My PET..." I cried out. My uncle walked over, putting his hands on the PET and inspecting it.

"It's dead..." he shook his head. "What a bother..."

"How the hell are we going to afford a new one?" I asked. I knew my uncle didn't have much more then a minor, almost unremarkable position in his employment with the ONBA, and they didn't pay much at all, sadly. We weren't well off, to say the least.

"No, Hayato, I suppose it's time..." my uncle grinned. He walked back to his briefcase and picked it up, and fiddled with one of the latches. Just it fell open, and he grabbed a key from a small compartment. "Your mother said not to let you have this, but..." he smiled, winking. "I guess it's time you got it anyway. Just promise me that, no matter what, you won't abuse it. And keep it Secret. That's secret with a capital s, no joke" uncle Juru growled, tossing me the key.

I grabbed it out of mid-air. "Thank you!" I called out.

"I have to make a trip to Netopia for a while, to take care of some matters with the ONBA. Please, try to take care of yourself" my uncle bowed. "And... if any punks give you trouble, say that you have the backup of Dashwin Setsun and his gang."

"But I don't have..."

"Trust me, you do" Juru grinned, and walked away, stumbling. I saw the red stain on his jeans grown larger, and a bit splashed onto the pavement.

"Uncle! You're hurt!" I cried after him, pushing myself up to run over, but he raised his hand in an indication for me to stop.

"This..." my uncle laughed. "This is nothing. It'd look bad if I didn't come to work because of such a minor..." on those words, he stumbled a bit more, "such a minor injury."

"Your leg is torn out and your blood is flowing freely!" I called over to him. "You can't be serious about..."

But, without giving me another thought, my uncle turned on his weak leg, and walked off, briefcase in hand. I heard a shocked gasp from a passerby who had seen the blood along his leg, then he was gone. It took me a few moments to regroup, then I ran off, avoiding stepping on Hiei's head as I ran off.

When I got home, I knew just what to use the key for. I ran up to the room where my mother had been, kept fresh just as if it had been used just yesterday. But it had not been used for anything, my uncle insisted on keeping it in top shape for an unknown reason.

I walked over to one box on her dresser, with a single golden lock. Carefully, I inserted the key.

It heated up in my hand, and I moved my hands away quickly. Then, the key turned by itself in the lock. No wonder I had been unable to pick it, despite all my training, there was something else I hadn't considered!

I heard the click, and I opened up the top. There, still just like I had received them, were the PET and chips I had received that one night.

I grabbed at the PET, and it came on without any prompting or pushing of any buttons. I simply lifted it up, and the monitor zapped itself on.

There, yawning wide on the screen, was an amazing figure. Standing almost just like a human was a navi, with unkempt and spiky blue hair like ice, and a face as pale as the snow, his blue eyes shining like water. White robes draped over his shoulder as far down as his feet, making it hard to see his body, though his big leather boots could be seen underneath. He was taller then most navis, not by much, but still taller, and his large hands were coated in emerald gloves. Those must have been quite something to design, they looked impossibly realistic, but they bent and moved just like any other glove would. It was... incredible, to say the least. And a suit of leather vest-like armor was draped over the front of the armor, which, in its blackish-brown tint, looked surprisingly real. Everything about this navi radiated power, and at the same time, looking so definitely human that it also looked like it would have humane qualities.

The navi finished its yawn, and rubbed at its eyes with one hand, wiping away slight bags under the eyes and rejuvenating the face instantly. "Hey, what's up?" the navi asked.

"Who...?" I asked. "Who are you? My father's navi?"

"Oh, yes, I suppose I am" the navi smiled happily. "But you're not Zel. Who, exactly, are you?"

"I am Hayato Grausherra" I smiled.

"Hayato... Oh, Zel's son!" the navi laughed. "Well, it's nice to finally meet you no longer as a baby! Jeez, I've been asleep so long... how long has it been since I was shut off?" the navi asked, seemingly still somewhat tired.

"At least four years" I responded.

"Ah, so that explains your age" the navi smiled. "Either way, I do not believe I have properly introduced myself."

The navi smiled and stared at me, and for a moment I could feel the navi's eyes piercing into my soul, as if it were a real human who was staring at me from the screen and not some computer program. Then the awkward feeling was gone.

"My name, young sir Hayato," the navi smiled, "Is Dynast."