The fires burned for days, hungrily devouring building and plant life alike. The number of dead piled higher, and it was impossible to know what was going on in the rest of the world save for a few radio stations which desperately attempted to keep things in update and people who had not been imprisoned filled with hope. The invasion hadn't yet taken on the whole world, it was spreading from Japan out, splaying about like a hand curling it's fingers across the globe to snatch it up into it's grasp.

Military efforts did their best to keep the hostiles out, though it was futile.

Communications one by one went down, networks severed, and those who weren't imprisoned turned from allies to adversaries. Forced to survive in each desolate environment, fending for themselves, fights for survival turned to bloodbaths over scraps of food and meager shelter.

Riots, Violence, Pandemonium-stemming from an unknown fear.

Amongst the dying flames where it all began, away from the chaos in a clearing of ashen rubble- once a wooded area with a modest hut and a stream- lie one completely forgotten.

It took days before the Keronian would awaken, and when he finally did, he found himself alone, broken, and bloodied on the ground, body sloppily bandaged as if the one who did it had little time to fret over what would best suit the wounds at hand.

Hardly conscious, he stayed where he was, staring up at the dark gray sky mildly wondering if there was supposed to be a storm today. He didn't remember the weather forecasting such a thing, and when he had gone to bed, it had been a beautiful clear night. He had slept well, no nightmares or troubles to speak of, but, hadn't he been woken up? Yes, he heard an explosion. From where? He had rushed out of the hut to check, smoke was billowing from the direction of the Nishizawa mansion, and the tower that towered high as a beacon went crashing to the ground. Koyuki had run out to join him and-

Koyuki! He sat bolt upright and let out a shout of pain doubling over, tears building in his eyes. He lie there gasping, ears ringing, as his entire body screamed at him, protesting his movement. It had been dormant for too long, it felt so stiff and he could almost hear it cracking each time he breathed as it tried to process the idea of movement.

He coughed into the mask covering his face from the fumes, that's when he realized it wasn't his mask, it was bright red and smelled familiar. While he let the pain subside his mind was racing, what else, what else had he forgotten?

Right, Koyuki had said something about Natsumi, she was worried about the others. When they went to turn back into the hut, it exploded. Blinding light, the earth trembled around them as explosions lit up the landscape. He had struggled with Koyuki to escape the flames, they crossed a river- then what?

Stinging pain, everywhere, as the bandages moved and broke the clotted blood. He squeezed his eyes shut. Then what? Then what!

They were pursued, flaming branches had fallen on him and his skin was blistering as flecks of the flame burned through his skin. He had collapsed at some point, his mask burned away and the fumes getting to him. Koyuki. She had been struggling to get him to stay with her, but couldn't waste time or they'd be caught.

Bruises everywhere, his back was killing him.

Right, she dragged him quickly across the rocks, to an area with few trees, so the fires wouldn't burn to him. She attempted to fix him up, he remembered seeing her remove her hair ribbon.

Darkness.

He didn't move again for a long time, staring at the ground now. After his mind went over this, several times, his fingers automatically reached up and touched the red ribbon wrapped around his mouth. Left there by his dearest friend to keep him from asphyxiating, the hastily bandages, wrapped in a desperate attempt to keep him alive.

While she lead the pursuers off, away from him, sacrificing herself for his lowly sake.

His trauma switch should have engaged, he wanted to cry, sob, beat at the ground and scream. But she didn't save him for that, she wouldn't save him so he could wallow in despair and die here alone.

He took that moment to take in his hideous surroundings, a world like something from a nightmare. Ashen gray ground spanned out in all directions, blackened trees, some standing, some toppled over. All sharp stubs left over, stripped of their branches and bright green leaves. Some places, embers still burned, flickering in the smoke that continued to rise and contaminate the sky.

There hadn't been sun for days.

His eyes drifted to the river, other than a few burnt sticks and branches, it looked like it had had time to wash away most of the filth, it was the only clean thing around him, if you could call it that.

He stared at his reflection.

His friends.

Where were they? Were they in danger too? But that didn't make sense, why would an invading race have any qualms about another race here? Weren't there treaties, pacts...

Unless...this was his platoon.

Perhaps, somehow, Keroro had finally grown tired of his games of laziness and done something, perhaps Giroro took over...or his brother had returned and taken over the task of conquering for them.

And, they hadn't even told him.

But- of course they hadn't, he would have protested! He didn't want Pekopon reduced to rubble and ruin, he would have gotten in the way, he would have-

No, that wasn't right at all. They hadn't told him because they never did, because they always forgot him, he was that third-fifth--wheel of a platoon that didn't care.

He didn't exist.

The pain was overwhelming, traumatized, the tears blurred his reflection with a constant stream of ripples. Why? Keroro, it was just too much.

As usual, he cried.A heavy air of disappointment and let down surrounding him, it would have made anyone within a short distance of him depressed.

Why? Why was it always him? Wasn't he good enough? Wasn't he smart enough and strong enough? Wasn't he an important member of the platoon? A Lance-Corporal even? Wasn't he good enough to have studied under Jirara? Alongside his fellow assassins?

He was an assassin! He should have been good enough, cool enough to be around, important enough to remember! He could have taken on any one of them, killed them even, if he had felt like it. None of them really had skills to match his, well, maybe Kululu, he was the only one that you could never know what to expect. But he knew all of their weaknesses, he could have used that against them without breaking a sweat.

Still, time after time he was forgotten!

Something else boiled inside of him, an ugly, dark and consuming feeling he hadn't felt in some time. Or ever, not that he could recall.

Anger? Fury? Rage?

No, suddenly, he desired revenge.

They should be afraid of him, they should have been more wary of his abilities. He was an assassin, an assassin! A deadly killer meant to lurk in the shadows, striking his unknowing victims before they ever knew what hit them, nobody would. Silent, discrete, invisible.

He was a killing machine.

He had just pushed that all behind him, why had he been so feeble and meek, letting everyone walk over him like the floor that they were never grateful was there? Because I was meant to be unseen, however, that did not mean he was meant to be ignored. That would change now, it had to, what else did he have left to live for.

His friends weren't really friends, his one friend was gone, and the planet that he had so loved seemed to be failing all around him.

He stood up slowly, aching bones cracking into position, but he didn't care. He called upon the demonic ninja arts, encasing himself in the deep blue armor.

With no clue where he was headed, simply driven by the motivation and blind rage of his trauma, he crossed the river and walked, heading straight for the ruin of a world where he sensed there was still life desperately clinging to survival.

He'd show them, everyone, the entire planet-how much he liked peace and tranquility. By stealing every last breath of this planet until it was encased in deafening silence.