And when I say 'flew away', what I mean is 'flopped out of bed trying to swat at my alarm clock'.

I laid there on the floor a moment, noting how delightfully cool the wood paneling was, but the incessant blaring of the clock convinced me to haul my arse up and hammerfist it into submission. Ah. Sweet silence.

Rubbing my arm from the fall, I shuffled over to the venetian blinds and peeked through, squinting until my eyes adjusted to the light. Look at that! Six in the bloody morning and the city's already well alive, cars and trains and pedestrians and bikers going to and fro, the rumble of a airliner zooming overhead. Christ. I let my room fall back into darkness and sat heavily on the edge of my bed, flexing my fingers and rubbing my knuckles. That always helped me wake up, for some reason. Getting the blood flowing through the end-digits. Not sure why. Should've paid more attention in class.

Things keep getting weirder and weirder the more sense I try to make of them. Mystery signature chap is working for this Tarocchi bloke. Both of them know about the sixty-minute slip. The slip takes place at midnight both here and in London, defying the laws of fuckin' physics.

I felt a bulge in my jean pocket, and looking down... Christ. I reached into the pocket and fished out an old-fashioned skeleton key, the same shade of cool blue as that room. The Velvet Room, the Italian bloke called it.

Turning the key over in my hands, I idly wondered if Archibald knew about this. I had never told him- never saw a reason to- but I think he suspected. During the hour from midnight to one, I always did look a little... pale, shocked, sometimes terrified. Why sometimes my boots would be wet without my leaving the house, why I would know the answer to something I had no clue to a minute ago. I would slip up now and again- I'm only human. He had to have caught on. Had to.

With a sigh, I set the Velvet Key down on my desk, fetched my school uniform, and headed out into the corridor for a wash. I was drenched in cold sweat.

I boarded an earlier train today. Not early enough to catch Yukari, much less Mitsuru- I honestly wondered how that lass functioned at all- but early enough to amble about the school a bit, beat out the late-rush crowd.

I had to admit, it was a nice place. All clean white lines and straight white tiled walkways. Passing through the gates, I scouted around the grass and cherry blossom trees for a tick before I found a nice out-of-the-way spot. Dropping my bag, I sat down against the trunk of blooming sakura, letting the noise of the incoming students fade away. I sighed.

This is kind of nice. The grass and flowers made me kind of snuffly, but it was so worth it.

I pieced through my bag and pulled out a stack of papers from the schoolday before- you know what they are. The papers talking about clubs and what to bring to school and the expectations for each class and the dates for important events, all that noise. I shuffled through them crisply, my eyes flowing over the written Japanese with ease.

Okay. No doubt, I'd have to join a club- or numerous clubs- to keep my grades looking nice and tidy. As it was, I'd probably struggle with Composition, Literature and Japanese History- especially history, the names always got me. The maths I could deal with- numbers are numbers wherever you are, and that was the one subject I'm actually good at. Probably came from trying to count stars, or people on the street. I was an odd lad.

Let's see... Yukari was in the archery club, wasn't she? I wouldn't mind something like that. What better way to impress Arch than to return to London a master in the British longbow? Fencing's in there too... Christ, so many clubs. Maybe there was an English club- observing how the Japanese pick up English might give me a few leads on how to better learn Japanese.

"Studying before class? On your second day? Bro, you're in danger of losing the title of da man."

I gave a start, bashing the back of head against the tree trunk. "Fucksocks!" I hissed. I glanced up, squinting in the bright morning sun to see Junpei towering over me. He can sneak the sneak when he needs to. That, or I'm losing my edge.

"Bell rang, bro. Time to roll." He extended a hand.

"Many thanks, china," I replied, taking hold and shaking out my arm once yanked upright. Junpei's got a hell of a grip. Probably from wanking, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt. I flicked a tiny grasshopper off the front of my coat.

"Look, I know you're new and everything, but trust me, you're overworking yourself already." Junpei and I walked back onto the main campus, cutting out paths from the mob. "You've gotta live, bro. You can't waste mornings like these-" He pointed upwards at the sky dramatically, causing a number of students to stop and stare- "on studying. You get me?"

I smiled a bit. "I get you, china." I patted him on the shoulder. "Thanks." We parted ways. I watched his hat float on the crowd and disappear into the maze of corridors.

School that day was considerably better, once I pushed the insanity of the nights before out of my head. Amazing, really. Who would've thought that not being terrified for your sanity makes learning so much easier?

Afterward, I followed Junpei home like a lost mutt. He toured me around the spread of Port Island Station, pointing out the iffy corners to avoid unless you wanted some aggro'd yobs all up on your cock. But I don't give this place enough credit. It's nice to see people just ambling about, enjoying the day for what it was worth. I mean, it'd be nice if everyone wasn't constantly smoking, but hey, it's Japan.

"You seem hellbent and telling me where not to go. Most tour guides do it the other way around."

Tugging at the bill of his hat, Junpei grimaced as a band of bovvers watched us walk by. "If someone had told me what to watch out for when I first moved here..." he trailed off with a shrug. "Dunno. I hated my first year here, bro."

I shook my head. "No, I appreciate it, Junpei. I really do, even if my use of your language says otherwise."

Junpei and I sat down on the station's stairs for a bit, our headphones switched. Christ, Junpei's ears liked some strange shit. Charcoal Filter, Oblivion Dust, Porno Graffitti, Nitro Microphone Underground, the list goes on. Not that I couldn't understand the lyrics, but when I did, I was just confused- or nauseated- even more. But I have to say, this Ondekoza stuff isn't all too terrible- all drums, all spirit. Arch would probably like it.

From the way Junpei's eyebrows are climbing, he doesn't think much of my taste in music either. "Disease... of the Dancing Cats? What the hell?"

I chuckled. "Fits me more than I'd like." We swap eargear again. "Guess I still have some transitioning to do. You have any Buddhist temples around here? I could go for some meditation and all that. Gongs, incense, statues, candles..."

It was Junpei's turn to chuckle. "Passed one on the way here."

Great. That's one thing scratched off the 'stuff to try in Japan' list Arch snuck into my luggage. Only about a million more to go. Hopefully Junpei knew where I could learn some Ninjutsu.

It's twelve o'clock. I'm poring over textbooks from school, papers spread all over my desk. Bush is blasting in my ears, the lights are all on, the TV is on spitting the news and advertisements at me like wildfire. It's a lot of noise, and if this dorm's room weren't practically soundproof, I'd have woken everyone. But this is how a study- with noise. My brain strains out the unimportant shit, letting me remember only the good bits the next day. Not the best way to learn, but it's helped me so far. Taught me calculus.

Must be your skin that I'm sinkin' in...
Must be for real cause now I can feel...
and I didn't mind
it's not my kind
not my time to wonder why
everything's gone white,
and everything's grey
now your here now you're away
I don't want this,
remember that,
I'll never forget where you're at
don't let the days go by...
Glycerine.

Glycerine.

And everything's just swell until I'm struck deaf and go colorblind. That's what it felt like, anyway, once the sixty-minute slip rolled around. I sighed in the dark, pulling off my headphones and setting down my pen. Well. Shit. Break time, I guess. With all the lights off and in the slip, it's unnaturally cold- and I'm just in jeans. Shiver, shiver.

Or maybe it isn't break time, as the room starts shaking, flinging me out of my chair and sending my papers fluttering through the air. I hop up to my feet, my flick knife in hand as Yukari crashes into my room, her pistol-taser drawn and holding... a sword?

"Scarborough-san! We have to get out of here! NOW!"

I wanted to ask, I really did, but the panic in her voice made me shut up. I followed mutely down the stairs, looking around. Jesus, this place was rattling. I was surprised the windows weren't cracking by the time we reached the back door. But something else was on my mind. "Yukari, you can-?"

Something massive slammed against the other side of the door, putting an impressive dent in it. A few more blows put a cobweb of cracks through it too.

"Holy fuck," I breathed.

Yukari didn't say a thing, just grabbed me by the wrist and back up the stairs we went. Her mobile chirped and she set it to speakerphone. "Takeba, come in!" Mitsuru's voice on the other line was unmistakable.

"I read you!" Yukari replied breathlessly. We ground to a stop on the third floor, looking around anxiously as the dorm steadily shook.

"The enemy has called in reinforcements! This isn't only the one that Akihiko engaged from before!"

Yukari looked even more panicked. Great. "What?"

"Retreat to-" Static.

I had no idea what in the fuck was going on. "What enemy? Akihiko? Who the hell-"

"Take this!" she said suddenly. In a smooth motion she had drawn the sword and shoved it into my hands.

"Whoa hey fuck no!" I yelped as she nearly chopped my fingers off. Getting a grip on the not-dangerous part of the sword- a wakizashi, Arch probably would've pointed out- I continued to tail after Yukari as she sprinted up the stairs to the roof, slamming the heavy metal door behind us and throwing the bolts.

With a loud sigh of relief, Yukari slumps back against the door. "Okay, that should give us a little-"

Another wave rocks the dorm, nearly throwing us tits over arse. We look behind us, and-

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ.

Hands. Pitch black hands, all clawing at the edge of the room. Tens of them. With a mighty pull, they heave the whole of its bulk onto the roof...

Jesus Christ.

More hands. There is no body. It's just a... huge, jellyish blob of arms, all carrying blades like moonlight. Except one. One hand carries a mask, half of it smiling, the other half frowning- I can't tell which half is which, it doesn't stay still. Until it looks at us.

I drop the sword. Oh my God. Oh my God.

Yukari doesn't piss about. Her pistol already out, she bites her lip and holds it to her head-

"Yukari, what-!"

I don't have time to finish that sentence as something flits between us. One of the beast's knives quivers in the wall like a tuning fork. Yukari cries out, clutching her bloodied arm, gun clattering to the floor. Yukari tries to reach for it, but another knife whistles out of the night- she tries to dodge it, but she's struck by the hilt, sending her sprawling to the ground.

The pitch-beast laughs. A low, rolling note that you feel in your feet. In your bones.

I gulp.

"Now's your chance."

My head swivels to the right. Crouched over Yukari, looking at her scornfully, is the chap from the first night, purple stormbeater and all. "What-"

"Be the hero. Kill the beast. Save the damsel in distress. Let the world know you aren't just another fucking face in the crowd."

I stare down at the small pistol between my feet, the shine dulled with blood. I look back up at the inky many-armed horror, expecting it to be upon me- only to find it looking at me, pointing one of his swords right at my heart. Is that... a challenge?

Mystery signature chap points a Revolver Ocelot handgun at me, then presses his fingers against the side of his head. "Not that fucking hard. It's not a matter of skill. It's a matter of balls." There's a note of worry in his voice. His eyes aren't glassy- they're wild, nearly rolling in his head like a mad hound.

I can't do this. I can't do this. Yukari couldn't. No one can. This is- this goes beyond insane.

"You bitch. You little bitch! You-" The chap shakes with a sudden fury, bursting from him like rapids- "You have it all! Everything! And you're- throwing it away! You... you COWARD!"

The inkblot beast, impatient, gives a deranged, piercing shriek and rushes forward, flowing over the rooftop like water over glass, its swords all aimed right at me.

The blood is sticky, the grip too small for my hand. But I push the muzzle underneath my chin-

"LET'S GO, THEN!"

-And pull the trigger.

And then I began to drown.

They say don't swim in the Thames. It's cold, it's fast, it's dirty as the Essex lass next door.

I didn't care. I was four years old.

It's beautiful, the way the light cuts through the water, the way the sun shines through. Even with all the clouds in the world, you can always tell where the sun is.

But so cold. And the current tossed me back and forth, tumbling, nothing but bubbles and darkness and the occasional ray of sun to guide me. I tossed out my short arms, hoping to cling to anything- and nothing came.

So I gave up. I let the water take me. Four short, meaningless years flashed before my eyes before I closed them.

It was Riley who pulled me out into the freezing rain, punched my chest until I puked water after gallon of water, coughing like I'd die. It was Guy who wrapped me in his jacket as I shook with the cold, with fear. It was Kilroy who shook me by the collar, screaming at me to never do that again, the rain running down his face like tears.

I cried too, the tears and the Thames becoming one. That was the first time I realized that I had brothers.

"Behold, this... folly.

Behold yourself, Arcana Magician. Where man walks in the skin of monsters, you walk in the skin of man. You are carrion."

These words came from my lips as if I had recited them every day of my life. The pistol clatters to the floor. I can only hold my head- it's been cracked wide open, and my every memory is pouring out into the sky. And it hurts.

Every single time I've felt pain, pleasure, fear, respect, shame... every emotion. I'm reliving it. Again and again.

"I am Grendel. I am your Unmaker. Show your face, wretch, so I may see your eyes as you die."

The sketch of ink in front of me stops, and howls- in rage. Grendel smiles. I smile.

"I see you. And you are afraid."

Grendel opens his cavernous mouth- his jaw stretching impossibly, jagged razor teeth glinting in the moonlight. A monstrous white claw bursts from his throat, clawing into his mouth. I begin to choke and feel as if I'll vomit, but the thing continues to emerge until Grendel explodes, his skin and organs wrapping themselves around the skeletal creature they had birthed.

I'm clutching my head. Pain, pain, pain. Every time I've experienced pain. Of all sorts. Shapes. Sizes.

Where Grendel stood behind me is now something so much more terrible. A maze of bleached bones, molded into the shape of... not a man, not a beast. A horrific thing from before men or beasts were even thought of. A necklace of shrieking skulls hanging against its bony chest, a cloak of white coffins circling its spiked spine like hellish wings. In its left long-taloned claw, it carried a bone-bound scroll. The right arm in an abomination, a knot of razor-sharp spines twisting into a sick mockery of a hand.

I shield my eyes from the aura of decay that surrounds it, consuming everything. Dear God, Father in Heaven, have mercy on my sinning soul.

"How long has it been since we have last crossed paths, o Magician? How far you have fallen."

I hold my hands over my ears, squeeze my eyes shut, press my forehead against the bloody ground as I grit my teeth. That voice- like knives driving into my skull from all directions. A screehcing, gasping death rattle formed into words. A thousand howls from the grave, spun into one voice, one without mercy, without love. Only pain.

"It is of no matter. We shall have plenty time to talk, o Magician. We shall mend you." The ink-shadow- the Arcana Magician- hurdles forward, blades coming down like silver rain. The skeletal horror rears back its killing arm, ending in claws so sharp the night air cries out in agony- and simply reaches out, catching the Magician's mask faster than anyone could see.

They both pause. The Magician's swords hang dumbly in the air.

"Please, join me. I have been so lonely."

The deathly horror crushes the mask, reducing it to dust- less than dust. One last shriek rings out into the night as the swords fall from the Magician's hands to bury themselves point-first into the roof, the body melting and bubbling into a dark puddle- and during all of this, the hellish white creature merely scratches the name "Magician" onto its bone scroll. It turns to look at me- its face a Russian doll of demonic white skulls, one inside the other- and disappears. I blink, and in its place is Grendel, his dark scales awash with the Magician's black blood.

I've fallen to my knees, gasping. I don't remember when that happened. I run my fingers along my aching skull, still feeling those memories all too vividly...

"So, you're not hopeless. Good."

I whip my head around, and there's mysterious signature chap, a little smile on his face.

"Wh-... who-"

"Right now, I'm your teacher. Lesson one: turn the fuck around."

I do that, to see that tar-puddle of melted Arcana Magician separating into two. They rise up, and- Christ almighty- begin to take form. A mask rises to the surface of each one's head, and now I'm face-to-face with some miniature Magicians, minus swords.

"Lesson two: kill their asses."

Don't need to tell me twice. Adrenaline (read: arrogance) rushing through me, I fetch up the wakizashi and lunge forward at one of the blob-monsters with a stab- only for the point of the sword to skid off of the mask leaving just a scratch.

"How fucking stupid are you? Who stabs with a Japanese sword?"

"Either help me or bugger off!" I yell back at him, hopped back to avoid being gutted- but the creature's hands rake across my chest, slashing my uniform. Fuck! It moves like water, but its nails feel worse than broken glass.

I take advantage of its momentum and drive the blade through the eye socket of the mask while ducking a thrust-punch from the other ink-fiend, levering the sword like a crowbar until the mask cracks and shatters. Snarling, the remaining creature headbutted me with its mask, sending me stumbling backwards, trying to line up another thrust-punch.

"You're gonna want to dodge that, hero."

I do, and make a hard chop down on the creature arm while ramming my elbow into its mask. All I get is a sore elbow and a feeling of dread as it regenerates its lost limb and the other bubbles away. Jesus Christ.

"For fuck's sake." My 'teacher' kicks the pistol over to me as I block another swipe- or try to, as the ink-creature's claw just flows through the blade and cuts my cheek. Ow, fuck. Making a quick slice, I dive for the gun and put it to my head.

"Grendel!"

Bang. The drowning sensation, and then Grendel phases into sight above me. He brings his talon down hard on the ink-bastard's head, crushing the mask.

I drop the pistol, holding my head as mysterious teacher chap gives rewards me with a slow clap. "What a show. Might want to have a more badass summon phrase. How about, 'showtime'? Or maybe 'game over'?"

Giving him a "how about shut the fuck up" was on my mind, but I rolled over onto my back and stayed there, breath coming is sharp, painful gasps. I stared up at the moon, my vision blurring. Whoa. Bigger than usual. Must be because I'm higher up.

He sighs. "Yeah, just lie there. Your damsel is starting to come to. After you two are done with your victory fuck, come find me." And like that, I blink- and he's gone again.

My last thoughts are of hearing Yukari moan awake- sounds kind of nice- and that I'm lying in a pool of ghost-blood. And Mitsuru's going to flog my arse for ripping up the uniform.

Whatever. Better than back home. My eyes close, and I let myself sink into the Thames.