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The word would be ended by his sword, rebirthed in his image, and christened in his blood.
The human rule of this planet would have to come to an end. It is not merely revenge in his reasoning for their death. He is fulfilling the will of the universe. The weak must be purged to make way for the strong.
It had happened in earth's history before, and it will happen again. The earth had done it countless times. Mother Earth had purged, starved, tortured, and killed its own creations time again and time again.
Whether she liked it or not Mushrambo was going to take the job for himself this time.
The acts of fulfilling the commands of his, soon to be former, human masters come to him easily. Slicing his sword through their bodies, blasting their weapons apart as though they were toys, and ripping their bodies apart with a single blast.
He doesn't use even a diminutive of his full might.
The humans do not know that, not even the ones who created him. His allies do not know have no idea what he is fully capable of.
And the entire world is blissfully unaware at the Holocaust that would soon be at its doorstep that he would wrought.
He is not arrogant enough for him to reveal himself, yet. He knows the humans might still have a trick or two up their sleeves to contain his rebel before it begins.
But he has enough time.
After all he is only fifteen.
The girl knows nothing today.
Yesterday, she understood only what a young girl could of her world; friends, family, music, books, school, and her home, but now she knows nothing.
Yakumo, has just barely turned twelve, but she might as well be a newborn to the world she now sees: signs written in a language she can't read, streets thick with so many people, that she worries she'll be lost in them, so many sounds and things she can't understand.
She clutches to her mother's jeans. She feels a hand lightly placed on her head.
"Don't worry, little one." Comes the smothering Southern accent of her mother. Yakumo buries her head, like a child into her mother's belly. She feels her mother gently pat her light brown hair. She knows her mother is just as overwhelmed and dazed as she is.
She highly suspects her mother's confidence is founded in her unshakable belief in God. Her mother firmly believes there is nothing that is outside God's will. It is that simple faith that puts her mother more at ease than Yakumo could ever be. If only she had the courage to only express more about what she truly felt about faith…
She hears her father's voice.
"Come on, it should be just around this corner."
"Dagio." Her mother calls again, "Are you sure you don't understand Japanese that well?" Her father shoots them back a nervous smile.
"I am sorry, Rebecca, but really I don't remember much of my Grandfather's lessons. He was so old and had left Japan at a young age." He looked around at the crowd surrounding them. "Unless these people heard our names I doubt either of them would suspect we are anything but Westerners. It was true, her father's side of the family had mixed well with the Caucasian side. Yakumo barely had a resemble to his distant Japanese heritage. Her hair was a light shade of brown, and her eyes were blue, like her mother's eyes.
"Well, we will just have to make due with what we have" Her mother said in her usual optimistic manner that Yakumo envied. Why couldn't she appear as relaxed and positive as her mother? Her mother was in the same boat as her. They both came from a small Southern town and now were stuck in the middle of a foreign country with little idea of the culture or language. At lest her father had some idea, since he grew up in New York City, and had some experiences with his grandfather's native land.
Yakumo clung onto her as they made their way through the maze of Tokyo.
It is small. That is the first thing Yakumo notes, but she had been expecting such. Her father had carefully explained that due to Japan being a tiny island nation (And the effects of Global Warming) that space in the country was limited. Rent was expensive, even for a scientist.
Yakumo is not a spoiled child. She is just glad to have a room even if it is tiny. She begins to unpack her things, clothing, photos, stuffed animals, technology, and of course her books. Yakumo had long been a shy, quiet, and peaceful child. The roughness of other children at childhood and the clique and bullies of her later years had made Yakumo retreat into the world of fantasy. A place where she could be a hero, be beautiful, fall in love, have wonderful friends, and great adventures.
A place where she wasn't the shy plain daughter with average grades, despite her father being a scientist, and no athletic achievements to make her stand out in anyway.
It isn't that Yakumo desires a great amount of attention, not at all. She liked having a few close friends, and having time be by herself.
But she always wished there was at least one thing to make her special. Her father was a genius scientist, and her mother was a social butterfly that could bring a smile to everyone's faces and always involved somewhere.
Yakumo feels she has nothing. She is peaceful and hates the violence, competition, and pettiness of the world. She doesn't want to get involved with too many people and risk losing her pacifist beliefs with competitions, gossip, or cattiness.
Her mother has made the suggestion to her that coming to a new country might cause her to come out of her 'shell.' She knows her mother didn't mean it, but the quote hurt. She knows that her mother feels that her introvert personality means she hasn't bloomed, yet. Logically, she knows that her mother doesn't think less of her, but she is afraid if she does stay the same her mother will be disappointed in her.
Yakumo uses the task of organizing her bookshelf to distract her from these thoughts.
She eats a spoonful of cereal, as she hears her parents discuss her father's new job.
"I don't like it. I ain't liking it at all." Her mother has never been one to hide her opinion not even to her husband. "I don't think we can trust those Warrior Enterrans. What if they go rouge?"
"Rebecca," Her father addresses her, calmly. "There is a chip implanted into all Enterrans to make their bloodstream toxic if one ever does go rouge. Besides their have been cases of robots going rouge too. We solved that by deactivation implants." Rebecca looks unconvinced.
"I still ain't liking this. I ain't liking this at all. I don't care what the government says. You can't trust the government anyway. I don't want you to see one of those monsters getting a hold of you."
Yakumo gives a pause that isn't noticed by her either of her parent's. She had seen Enterrans all her young life. She had seen them work in the service centers of her father's nuclear plant. They always did the dirtiest and dangerous work. It was the same everyone with environmental hazards growing the humans couldn't contain it all. The Enterrans had been engineered to survive the worse of the pollution, but still many died painful deaths, slower than the humans, but still they died due to exposure from the pollution they had to clean and maintain.
People spoke of Enterrans like creatures to be used, almost like animals for testing. No, they were animals for testing. Yakumo for the longest time had believed such things, that Enterrans were little better than mindless animals...until one faithful day….
A nine year old Yakumo is quietly sitting as she flips through the pages of Abarat by Clive Barker. She is alone in a small corridor, away from the scientist, janitors, and other workers to get a moment of peace. Her father had been running late that day and her mother was out of town, so he had sent his secretary to pick her up. She didn't mind it. As a rule of thumb, she always carried a book with her, so she was never bored.
The blue eyes girl hadn't expected to meet anyone that day. And she really didn't. She hears the sound of people...crying. Yakumo feels the tender side of her heart take over, as she bookmarks her page, closes the book, and tucks it under her arm. Yakumo always felt the need to comfort others in anyway she could. She truly hated to see suffering. She knew she wasn't as good as her mom was at it, but sometimes being there was enough, as her mother had taught her.
She wonders to around the corner, and stops at what she sees. She sees a trio of tall bipedal reptile Enterrans around...crying. She stops in shock at such a sight. The blue eyes girl has never seen or even heard of an Enterran crying.
"Mechina, I think it is for the best...she is gone. After all, we all know she lost her will after the radiation had taken her mate and son." One of the larger ones comforts another. Yakumo blinks at this. Enterrans having mates and children, she had never thought of such things. She always thought they breed like...animals.
But here were Enterrans mourning their own like people.
"Yes, she had given up." replied another. Then one turns his eyes to Yakumo. Both the human and the Enterrans are stunned, neither one expecting the other. And she wondered if the Enterrans had ever even seen a child human.
Yakumo realizes she has to make the first move. She bows. "I am sorry for your lost. I pray your friend rests in peace." The words come more naturally than she expects.
Yakumo keeps herself lowered, as she hears no words from the Enterrans until finally…
"Thank you..." Comes the one who had been crying. The girl slowly rises, about to say something when she is interrupted.
"Ms. Tatsuro!" Comes the voice of her father's angry secretary. "What are you doing here, and around the likes of them! Do you know what danger you put yourself in." The woman roughly graves her before dragging her off.
"Daddy," Comes Yakumo's soft voice, interrupting her parent's argument. "-if the Enterrans didn't want to fight or work in the Danger Zones….could they?" Her father looks at her, his black eyes with a very surprised look in them.
"I never heard of an Enterran requesting such a thing. Yakumo, Enterrans don't think like people do. They are like police dogs who are trained to do their job." Yakumo feels uncomfortable at the comparison to animals.
"But they have Human DNA." She argues.
"Yes, they do. Enterrans can think, they can be affectionate, gentle, kind, and form friendships among themselves. But it only goes so far."
Yakumo frowns at her father's statement.
"We didn't make them very empathic for a reason. They have very dangerous work to do. Everyday we work on new programs and technologies to make their jobs safer, they are well fed and cared for. But they don't have the full caliber of human minds and emotions." He gives her a gentle smile, "I know you are a caring girl, Yakumo, but I promise you the Enterrans have no problem doing their jobs."
Yakumo lowers her eyes back to her cereal bowl. The words of her father do not bring her any peace. She is left to wonder.
But she needs to put such thoughts behind her. She has to get to school
She was completely overwhelmed, the sheer amount of people around the train station was nearly too much to bare.
Maybe it was too much to bare.
She looked up at the strange Japanese Characters that she had no idea what they meant. She is pushed by the passengers, as they hurry about their business, not even caring about the young and frightened girl. Yakumo turns her blue eyes to the paper again, reading the number of the platform she is to get on.
Back in America, she never went to school alone, she was always driven and picked up by her mother. But in Japan it was expected for her to make her way to school and her mother didn't have her driver's license anyway. Rebecca had been very hesitant about sending her daughter to journey to school alone. But she was meet with assurances that this was the norm for Japan and was perfectly safe for a girl to journey alone.
And besides it would make her stick out more if she came to school with her mother.
With great reluctance her mother had agreed.
Yakumo stepped unto the platform and into the train. She caught a few looks her way, especially due to the fact she was a foreigner wearing a school girl uniform.
She averts her eyes to the floor and holds a pole, as the train begins its journey.
Finally, the American girl has made it to her Japanese Middle School.
She feels lead in the pit of her stomach as she enters the school, all eyes on her. A blue eyed girl in Japanese uniform. She hears words of a foreign language, as she passes by.
But no one goes to speak to her. Yakumo is thankful for that. She takes out the piece of paper again, and reads. The school offered English language classes, and a private class for Japanese learning. It was one of the few to do so. The English classes were the mainly taught by foreigners like her to give the Native Japanese students space to practice their English.
In between classes, she would spend her time in the library and educate herself.
She quietly goes to her locker without a word. Her father had put sticky notes to give the English lettering of the Japanese characters, so she would know what classes.
The Foreign Teachers look at her with surprise as she enters the classroom. They likely got the memo she was from America, but her name likely made them think she was fully Japanese. She sits down at the back of the class quietly and takes her notes.
She notes the eyes on her. A great feeling of uncomfortableness wrestles in her stomach, causing an almost nauseous like sensation. And to think she wished she was special this morning, but she didn't mean it on her skin or eye color.
But since when do wishes grant you exactly what you wanted?
She keeps her head down, as she listens and takes notes.
Throughout the day, she can't force herself to be comfortable. She tries to find herself at ease, but sadly not even the classes distract her. Even though the subjects are mathematics, history, and such it is mostly used to practice English. The teachers calls upon her more times than she wishes to read an English phrase from the book.
She wishes she could have spoken up, been confident, something for the other students to look up to her though. But sadly that is not the case. Her mouth is dry, she stutters and stresses over the words of not only her native language, but also the only one she knows.
She can tell by the looks on the other students faces that she is confusing them at her unclear pronunciation, and much to her shame she finds herself forcing the words so much, that she visibly spits several words that she speaks.
She cheeks turn to red when she hears the giggles.
Soon the teachers stop asking her questions, and Yakumo is thankful to pretend to be invisible.
The students don't have a lunchroom, they eat in class. She sees them pull out their bento boxes to eat.
The girls have dainty little boxes of chibi characters decorated on it. Yakumo pulls out her own lunch of leftover pasta salad with dressing.
She is eating quietly, when she feels a presence over her. She looks up to see a girl standing over her. Yakumo's fork is midway to her mouth, causing more awkwardness. The girl is staring wide eyed at her lunch. She doesn't know what the problem is. Yakumo notices more girls staring at her or more specifiably, her lunch.
Yakumo eyes dart frantically around. Then she realizes the problem.
Her lunch is much bigger than everyone's lunch. A memory clicks on how important the idea of thinness is in Japanese culture. Yakumo is nowhere near fat by American standards, but here the standards were far more strict She lowers her head, as both an attempt to block the girl's gaze toward her.
Then she feels a poke at her stomach, touching the layer of baby fat, that the other girls didn't have, she nearly jumps at being touched.
She hears a giggle.
"Pocchari"
Yakumo has no idea what she means, but the chorus of other giggles makes her humiliation worse.
She doesn't finish her lunch.
–
"Please, don't kill them! She is only a woman and he is only a baby." The man cowers before the Entteran. Mushrambo just gives in him an impassive look. The smell of blood is throughout the desert compound.
The Enterran takes another step forward the man shoots, but the bullets bounce off.
"Please!" The man begs. He has heard of his fellow warriors enjoying the sound of their fallen opponents beg for their lives, but it does nothing but annoy the Dark Enterran. This man had killed countless of his own kind, but upon his death he begs for the lives of what he loves.
It is not a sense of justify that drives Mushrambo. No, cares little of what humans have do to their own kind. But the annoyance is still there. It is times like this that remind Mushrambo just how pathetic the Human Race truly is. It is not that they kill each other. He could understand that, but it is the lack of honor in their deaths. Begging like children for their lives after whipping out there own. Anyone who stepped foot on the battlefield should be prepared to die there.
Mushrambo cuts his head off in one movement.
He hears a woman and the infant in her arms scream. She takes off to run.
He flash steps before her.
He quickly skewers her and the infant on his blade.
He impassively ignores the screams and spasms of her dying body, as he wipes his sword. A thought that amuses him crosses his mind. If any human watching this saw this they would call him heartless.
It wasn't a lie.
But they had made him like this. The swore to make him the perfect weapon. The greatest warrior of all. He was simply doing what humanity wanted him too do. Humans have been doing what he is doing for thousands of years. But they were disgusted by it. They were disgusted by their own warrior instincts that they now coward when it came to their deaths.
So they gave their dirty work to him.
Too him it is another sign of what he needs to do. Humans had let their need to battle and survive atrophy and give their work to his kind.
Humans had become a disgrace to what nature intended of a species: survival.
And he would make them pay for betraying nature.
Yakumo walks down the halls of her father's lab. She has long since lost which place she should go to and where she should be. The white halls all begin to look the same. The young human girl had come to see her father at his lab today, since her mother couldn't watch her. Despite the reminders of Japan's safety, Rebecca still takes great measures for her daughter's safety.
Despite what most would assume of a girl starting her teen years, Yakumo was grateful for it. She probably would have hated it back in America, but in this foreign country she is grateful.
Though she is lost at least it was in the partial safety of her father's lab.
Yakumo is about to decide to retrace her steps when she hears a moan.
A painful moan, like someone is hurting. Her heart freezes. A part of her wants to run, but the greater part of her knows she couldn't leave someone who could be hurt.
"Hello!" She calls out. She only got the reply of further painful moans. She quickly sprints down the halls to find out what is wrong. Finally, she came to a door with Japanese Characters on it that, of course, she couldn't understand.
She can hear the pained cries clearly coming from behind the door. She started to open the door and found it surprisingly heavy.
When she pries door opens a blast of air, so cold it chills her to the bone, hits her. Once she opens her eyes again, she almost loses her breath at the sight before her.
There is a mass of blood, feathers, and pink flesh with clear stitch marks before her. Before her laid a massive bird Enterran: male, by the looks of him. He was large with his mass of wings, spread out, she took note of several pieces of his wings missing. Blood and feathers littered the cold slab of metal he was on. His body was badly damaged, with skin missing, as though torn off, with stitches and pink flesh, and blood everywhere.
Yakumo is frozen. Her fear tells her to run, but she cannot.
The tiny human girl, slowly steps forward to the giant, but helpless, Enterran.
"Hello…?" She whispers, "Do you need help." The Entteran's eyes slightly open, and he weakly turns his head to face his unexpected visitor. She cautiously steps closer.
"Do you need help?"
The Enterran closes his eyes and gives another moan of pain. Yakumo swallows and bravely steps forward toward the Bird Enterran. She nears him, she reaches out her hand, and gently strokes the bloody feathers on his face with her hand.
His eyes slightly flutter open again, it is clear he is not fully aware of what is going on. He might not even realize Yakumo is real.
But she has to try.
"Is there...anything...I can do?" She whispers.
"No, human, there is not a thing you can do." Come a strong voice from behind her. Yakumo jumps at the new voice and turns.
She sees what looks like a human, at first, but she sees his violet eyes and hair, she knows this is a Humanoid Enterran. She looks at his face, looking in his teens, despite not being human he is easily the most handsome man she has ever seen. But she couldn't appreciate his beauty with the chilling look he gives her.
His eyes, though beautiful, there is something about them that isn't quite...human. Perhaps that is a silly thing to say because he isn't human, but she can think of no better word. There is a coldness there...a gaze of indifference, but she senses something underneath the surface. While she doesn't know what it is it makes her feel on edge.
"He is hurt...and the room is too cold." She staggers to answer. Her survival instinct was telling her to get far away from this human looking creature, but she can't. Her sense of duty towards a hurt sentient being overrides her fear.
Something flickers for a moment in those cold eyes.
"Young Human, Moto was gravely wounded in battle and is dying. This is where your kind puts our warrior dead."
"But he is still alive!" She protests, "He should be in medical." The apathy in his eyes is apparent. Yakumo realizes that he has little concern toward his fellow Entteran.
"He likely was in medical, but your race decided he could no longer survive, so they put him here to meet his end?"
"But why here? In such a cold place?" She questions. The Entteran doesn't respond, but merely points behind her. Yakumo turns back to see that behind her are cabinets. She is puzzled for a moment until her blue eyes widened with horror when she realizes what they truly are.
This was a morgue. Nausea from disgust builds up in her stomach. They had put a dying, but living, sentient being on what was literally his grave site to die. She looks around and spots sheets on top of a desk. She goes towards them, picks up a stack, and carries them over to the dying creature.
"What good will that do him? Those sheets won't keep him warm. He isn't even aware of what is going on." Yakumo says nothing for a moment, as she gets a pillow.
"I can't just do nothing. I have to help. I can't just let someone die like this. He deserves some peace."
"You are doing nothing for him." He coldly tells her again. "You can't keep him warm. You good ones are all the same." Yakumo looks up at him, as she gently places the pillow under the Bird Enterran's head.
"What are you talking about?"
"You are putting effort into something that damn well won't help. Those sheets are too pathetic to keep him warm, and that pillow will barely relieve the hardness of the metal beneath him." He gives a dark smirk. "What you are doing is the easiest way to make you feel like you are good, better than the rest of us. You are doing the least amount for him, nothing but a mere show of false altruism."
The words strike her to the core. His harshness and lack of tact for a child's feelings. She wants to cry and protest it is not true. But right now that isn't the right thing to do.
Because he is at least right about this, she isn't doing all she can do. A new set of determination comes over her features, as she turns toward the Humanoid Enterran.
"Please, I beg you to help me. Show me some place warm to take him, somewhere comfortable. Somewhere he can die in dignity."
Mushrambo blinks, he is caught off guard for that.
"That would be the military brackets. It is warm there, at least. But how can you expect to take him there?"
At this, Yakumo looks down at the brackets holding the wheels of the cart in place. She uses her foot to push them up.
Mushrambo realizes what she is trying to do.
"You can't be serious, Human. Something as small as you doesn't have the strength to push him all the way to the brackets." Yakumo ignores this, as she takes the head of the cart and begins to maneuver it to the door.
"Just show me where to go. I will push him there." Mushrambo's expression is neutral, but he moves out of the door way for Yakumo to push the dying Enterran into the hallway. Mushrambo looks back over his shoulder at her and gives her a come hither motion before walking away.
Yakumo pushes the cart following him. The Enterran makes no move or offer to help the human push her heavy passenger, but Yakumo doesn't want him too either. His words of her doing little still echo in her mind. This was as much to prove to herself as it was to him that she wasn't just making shallow comments.
He is heavy, very heavy. The little human has little doubt that the cart had his weight modified or else her thin, twelve year old female body wouldn't have been able to push someone at least over two hounded pounds. She sweats, and breaths heavy, as she continues on. Her hands, arms and wrists become red and swore. Her feet feel like they are pounding on concrete, as she forces them to bare her heavy load.
To the Enterran's credit he keeps his speed at a level the human girl can manage. He doesn't look behind to check on her or say a word. But Yakumo doesn't care for that. She doubts she can even get a word out right now.
The strange Enterran wasn't kidding when he said it was a long while to the brackets. She pushes it over an hour and if it wasn't for sheer will she would have thrown in the towel a long time ago, but on she goes.
Finally, he stops.
"We are here." The first words he has spoken to her since they were in the morgue. He opens the door for her and they enter an empty bracket with bunk beds. She rolls him in, but Yakumo realizes her labor isn't over, yet.
She now has to figure out how to move him from the cart onto a bed.
But then to her great surprise, the Enterran picks up his comrade and easily lays him on the bed. Yakumo quickly moves to pull a thick blanket over him.
"Thank you." She tells him.
"There is no need to thank me. You earned my help, and that is not something I give away easily."
I can tell, Yakumo thinks. She turns to him.
"I have to go now. Will he be okay?" Yakumo asks.
"He's dying." He bluntly replies. Yakumo cringes. She turns and strokes his fathers again. She notes she has gotten some blood on her.
"I know it was little, but it was all I could do." She lowers her head and says a prayer.
"Who are you?" She hears the Enterran ask her. Yakumo blinks, not realizing that they had not even exchanged names.
"I am Yakumo. What is your name?"
"I am Mushrambo, Yakumo." There is silence after the exchange. "I will watch Moto from now on. You may take your leave." He has nothing else to say. It wasn't hard to figure out this Mushrambo guy was a man of few words.
She nods.
"Thanks again." She turns towards Moto and whispers, "I pray you find a better life there than you ever had on Earth."
With that she leaves.
–
I hope you have a better life there than you ever had on Earth
The words of the human child, Yakumo, repeat in his mind.
"Such a foolish, girl." He says, as he takes out another practice target.
There was no other world, no God to reward, no Devil to punish.
There was only this Earth and this life alone where you could survive. He remembered Moto, he remembered how he had died. He was a creature that had little thought beyond his human master's orders; no ambition, no desires of his own.
In Mushrambo's eyes it would be fitting way for him to die. He lived by his master's orders. It was only fitting that he died how they wanted. Cold, alone, forgotten, and in pain.
But then there was that human girl….
"Yakumo." The word whispers from his mouth. He wasn't sure how she got there, and he didn't care how. But that human...her motives made little sense.
She had gone beyond what she needed to make herself feel like she was a good person. She had helped a dying Enterran have a somewhat comfortable death, even if the Enterran was too far gone to realize it himself.
He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all.
In his fifteen years, and all the wars and death he had seen, he thought he knew humans and Enterran well enough and their natures. He knew that survival ruled all and that kindness and altruism were only luxuries that most could only give away in the best of times. That all races would turn against each other when the time and situation was right.
He had seen it time and time again.
He knew it was true.
But that girl….that little human girl…
He couldn't get her out of his mind.
"Yakumo." He whispered again. He tried to will himself into focusing on battle, violence, bloodshed, and the things he understood well. But those blue eyes full of innocence were lurking back in his mind.
He knew the logical answer. She just wanted to prove that she was good to him. She had just wanted to prove him wrong. She really couldn't have done it for selflessness. Right now she was likely in her warm and comfortable home thinking about what a good person she was. Just satisfying her quota of doing good deeds that both Enterrans and humans alike seemed to think they needed to fulfill.
But memories of her words, her eyes, her determination, and just her.
Why couldn't he get her out of her head?
He then gave a larger blast, at a target, than he needed too out of his frustration.
"She will be dead in a few years." He reminded himself.
Yes, she would. She would just be another word in the long list of his victims when his reign began.
And no one would remember Yakumo.
Not even him.
–
Hey, I am back with another DarkKing!Mushrambo/Yakumo story! I wanted to do a story without the rape angle of "Forever Darkness" But I will tell you this won't be a fluffy fic by any means. It will have plenty of dark themes and angst along with it. I really doubt an IC fic with Yakumo and Evil!Mushrambo can ever truly be fluffy...but that is another day
I hope you enjoy, and please review. The Shinzo fandom is so tiny I need to know I have some support.
Thanks for reading