Hey there, Reader!

I decided to continue, since I started this story. There was no sense in ending it at chapter seven in my book, so I ended up translating more of it for you guys to read. Sorry for the wait.

Enjoy!


Chapter 8 Reconnaissance

Neo-Lord Jin was not pleased at all.

A hellish three month period passed since a new vigilante appeared in his city. Thanatos, as his defeated men named him, struck hard and fast. The Neo-Lord couldn't put a finger as to why he would take up such a crusade. That armored punk was a nuisance all the same, so what did he care what his reasons were. The Third Republic's morale weakened with every Thanatos raid. And as it was, the Neo-Lord has one option left.

He walked with his bodyguard, Moros, walking close behind. Perhaps bodyguard wasn't the right term to describe his employee. Neo-Lord Jin's bodyguard was a frightening man in a felt mask. Not a centimeter of skin was exposed on him, so there was no telling what kind of man he was. He was certainly good at keeping his employer safe, but he displayed an intelligence that earned him a place in the Third Republic's Research and Development department.

This one was recommended to him by a reliable source, and from what the Neo-Lord observed, he was. Moros was also good with machines. And his latest pet project was ready.

"This machine better be worth our resources," said the Neo-Lord.

"It is, sir," said Moros. He produced a piece of paper with handwritten codes. "Read these when it asks for them. All data will be accepted audibly." The bodyguard opened a door for his boss. "This way."

Neo-Lord Jin entered and folded his arms. Moros closed the doors behind them. In the dead center of the room, a massive cylindrical machine stood encased in a tempered glass barrier. On top of it was an antique hologram projector, which was currently materializing the present time and date. Its outer shell was patched with mismatched metal tiling and soot. This contraption had thick multi polymer pipes protruding from its base, running along the ground from under the barrier and in all directions. From a distance, this machine seemed like a parasitic apparatus.

"Are you sure it's operational now, Moros?" asked the Neo-Lord. "I won't settle for anything less."

"Yes, sir," said Moros. "The Appraiser may speak to you now."

Neo-Lord Jin Jirato approached the machine. Its lights glew brighter and the hologram faded to a blank face. "I understand you're Artificial Intelligence, correct?"

A line materialized above the machine. "I am what I am," it said. The line waved up and down with each hum of noise flickered in the air. "And that is an Artificial Intelligence."

"Try to be punctual," said Moros. "The Appraiser replies best when the speaker keeps the questions simple."

"I am Neo-Lord Jin Jirato," he said. "I understand you were created by E. Co as a command hub for Gladiator Units?"

"You are right" said the Appraiser. "What do you require?"

"I want you to activate units from Project P," said Neo-Lord Jin. "Any you can scrounge up. There must be reserves of them around the city. And I want reinforcements for my army ASAP."

The screen displayed a series of numbers. "That is impossible," said the machine. "I see that you installed me to be able to broadcast my influence across Port Island. But I cannot reach the sufficient Gladiators you require."

"Why not?"

"Some are locked in specific vaults hidden outside the city limits," said the Appraiser. "I may give you coordinates to find these army caches, but they require Plasmite, a formula I do not know. To top it off, I require that the Personas be within close proximity of this building for me to synchronize them."

Neo-Lord Jin murmured to himself. He hoped conversing with a machine would be easy. For an Artificial Intelligence, it sure knew how to sound stalwart. Was it just him, or was this Appraiser challenging his patience?

"So even if we found these vaults," he said, "we still need Plasmite?

"Perhaps more of it could be replicated from a fresh sample," said the Appraiser. "Fresh blood from a live specimen."

"Are you suggesting that there is a live Gladiator out there?" asked the Neo-Lord.

Under his mask, Moros donned an exuberant expression. "There must be, if the Appraiser mentions it," he said.

"I do have access to your database, Neo-Lord," said the Appraiser. "And from what I gather, your Thanatos may just as well be the Persona we need."

"Our forces are exhausted from repelling him for so long," said the Neo-Lord. "I was hoping you could provide some form of help without us having to hunt down someone we can't fight."

The Appraiser chucked. Could machines be amused? The Neo-Lord shook the thought form his head.

"Perhaps there is one unit who may be available," said the machine. "And he is just a few kilometers from the building. If you will, allow me access to broadcast the activation signal."

Neo-Lord Jin remembered what Moros told him earlier. He picked out the piece of paper and read a string of letters and numbers aloud. The Appraiser listened and spelled out the code on its projector. They waited eagerly for news.

"The unit is on the way to apprehend Thanatos now," said the Appraiser.

"Good," said the Neo-Lord. "Well, I'll be off. Moros? Check to see if this machine's screws are loose. I feel like it could do with some fine-tuning."

The Neo-Lord left the room. Moros waited until he closed the door.

"He doesn't suspect a thing," he said.

"Poor meat bag," said the Appraiser.


Block 51 was once a highpoint in Old Port Island' prosperous days. As a result of the first Colossian-Era War, the area referred to as Old Port Island was set ablaze and burned to a crisp. What remained were the husks of former buildings and residential complexes, the only sign of life within the district. For a time, Block 51 remained the only building structurally intact within the area.

At least, that was how it should have been.

What remained of Block 51 was a field of rubble. From above, it appeared as though a landfill had been dug in the middle of Old Port Island and filled with chunks of concrete. Upon closer inspection, one would realize that this landfill was packed not with garbage but with chunks of rubble as well as rustic electrical equipment. Debris of all shapes and sizes filled a massive ditch that was once a basement, ranging from shards of lead piping to cement pieces the size of hover cars. To the naked eye, this place might as well have been a massive burial ground to whatever lay underneath its surface.

Block 51 remained as it was ever since it collapsed on itself, ruined. Temporary residents of Old Port Island, namely homeless Colossians who were seeking shelter nearby, witnessed the facility's last moments standing. According to eyewitness accounts, something in the building "combusted," engulfing the facility and eventually burning it to the ground.

The morning after the building was mysteriously demolished, the SIU was called in by Colossians to investigate. They found neither bodies nor incriminating evidence. It was almost as if any evidence of the culprit, whoever it might be, went up in flames with Block 51. The case ran cold, and Block 51 was left untouched ever since.

Now, if anyone was awake at this hour, that person might have found another anomaly occurring in that accursed block. Under the layers of debris, much farther than any man could ever dig, something awoke. It stirred from its sleep, churning the thick rubble that buried it. It opened its eyes, but no light streamed through its retinas. No clear thought emerged from that thing's mind, but there was one clear motive. It had to escape from its dark prison.

The thing immediately clawed in the direction it assumed was upward. Was it correct? Even the thing was not sure where it was going. It lost all sense of direction in that darkness. There was no distinct up or down, left or right. Now even remaining still seemed as though everything was in motion. Whatever the case, clawing was the best alternative that came to mind.

For an eternity, only darkness remained. No light was clear in the direction the thing was going. Soon, it became frustrated. It had little time left―the thing knew this for sure. If it remained in this void, its very existence would cease to be. With a final effort, it ripped through its dark barrier faster than before.

And then there was light.

The thing emerged from its prison, erupting from the field of debris that contained it for all this time. The first action it took in its new world was to simply stare. From what the thing recalled, it was originally taken residence in a much different area. It once lived in a place that was organized, clean, and . . . populated.

The thing scanned the area. Nothing resided as far as it could see― not a soul in sight. It was then that an answer to this dilemma occurred to it―the reason for its abandonment in this cold, deserted place. Where were its comrades? What happened to father? Who was responsible for this?

Anger arose within the thing. With a roar of both anguish and hatred, it spoke only once.

"Six!"


Lately, Minato felt more like a hero than he had three months earlier. The boy almost thought it was fun acting from justified violence. Practically every night since he made friends with the detective, Minato came barging into main Third Republic buildings with guns blazing. Everyone was struck with priceless expressions upon seeing Minato's Active Armor.

Minato ruthlessly pursued Third Republic bases to exploit their plots. In the meantime, crime rates drastically dropped. News broadcasts in the past mainly reported on Third Republic attacks. Now these reports had ceased to be. There were barely any stories about criminal activity as long as Thanatos was on the job. Third Republic territory dramatically shrank from half of Port Island to a mere ten percent.

Detective Mitsuru and Orpheus were really the ones to thank for the dropping crime rate. Somehow, Orpheus always had access to information concerning criminal activity before it even made the evening news. Orpheus then relayed the information to Minato, who would dash from rooftop to rooftop until he arrived at the scene to punch some dents in the Third Republic movement.

From witness sightings of Minato in Active Armor, the SIU would always be called in to investigate. Due to Mitsuru's effectiveness and charisma throughout the branch, her opinion tended to be the SIU's official opinion. In accordance to their alliance, she simply led the SIU down leads as to the identity of the Thanatos. The leads would prove to be false, but the SIU still had enough faith to unknowingly let her run them in circles.

All in all, playing the hero was getting fun. Minato could not remember the last time he had had as much fun as he did causing mayhem. He did not need much reason to weed them out. They were the bad guys, and he was the good guy. It was as simple as that.

Minato looked at the memory devices in his hand. He unearthed them a few nights ago in different places pocketed around Port Island. Minato was so busy causing mayhem that he put off viewing these devices before uprooting a few Third bases. It wasn't that he didn't care about his past life, but a vigilante had to have priorities. That meant that he would handle crime over going on a search for identity.

But there was that issue with the feedback. It came back again. Minato kept fine-tuning the dial behind his ear to ease the pain. It just kept coming on different frequencies, causing head-splitting headaches every time. Minato turned the dial compulsively every time he heard static, even when it was coming from a radio and not within his brain.

Orpheus kept insisting that Minato just tolerate the pain, but he was stubborn to listen. As far as he had seen, tuning the dial was the best way to work with the problem.

"You lack conviction if you can't handle a few headaches," said Orpheus.

The boy stuffed his memory devices into his pocket. "Says the voice in my head," said Minato.

"Don't get cute with me."

Orpheus could never read all of Minato's thoughts, thankfully. He openly asked what Minato was thinking if the boy wasn't talking. Minato found this very convenient, because he kept thinking about the life he left behind. That was a mundane and boring lifestyle, yet it had a comforting sense of serenity in the repetition of schoolyard antics. Not that Minato would give up his new lifestyle now, but he wished he could find his friends again.

On that note, Minato had no idea what Yukari was up to. He hadn't tried to find her after the skirmish in the alley. Minato just couldn't bring himself to find her after that. He made up the excuse that he just needed to control his powers, but that wasn't the real reason why he didn't reveal himself.

"What are you thinking?" asked Orpheus.

"I'm thinking about finding Yukari again," Minato replied.

"What for?"

"It's been three months," said Minato. "I know for a fact I won't switch to Active Armor on accident. And I think she'll be ready to see me like this."

"I think you like her," said Orpheus in a sing-song voice.

"So?" said Minato. "I think I'm ready now."

And then the feedback returned. Minato tweaked his dial once more. Minato perched himself on the corner of a roof. His arms bent and his legs behind, he almost looked like was going to perform a dive off of the building. He could do so without hassle. Minato made sure he wasn't too obvious and got comfortable. He picked up his phone and called Yukari's number. She picked up.

"Hello?" asked Yukari.

"Hey, Yukari," said Minato. "It's me, Minato. It's been a while."

She gave a sound that was both a gasp and a yelp. "No way," she said. "Is this… I'm sorry, I thought you said you were someone else."

"I'm serious," said Minato. "It's actually me. I'm back from the dead."

"This can't be happening," said Yukari. "I saw them drag you away. I was there when they told me you entered a comatose state…"

Yukari almost threatened to drivel in confusion, but Minato stopped her. "I know it's a big shock," he said, "but I can prove it's me. Are you still in your apartment?"

"Yeah, I am," said Yukari. "Why?"

"Maybe we could meet up," said Minato. He looked over the rooftop to a large clearing in the urban landscape. A large park with tents fortified on every square meter of the premises. "I see a circus in town. It's at the fairgrounds. I'll meet you at the Main Street entrance at seven."

"Alright," said Yukari, almost cautiously. "I swear, if this is some sick joke, I'm going to gouge your eyes out."

Minato laughed. "You still suck at making threats, Yukari," he said. She abruptly hung up. That was fine. He would have plenty of time to make up for being dead.

Minato looked at an open park surrounded by a sea of skyscrapers and black streets. To the left were the fairgrounds, which were hosting the world renowned circus, the Jackal Gentry. To the right was the Sim-Dec building. But Minato did not recall its state of bad publicity.

Long lines of eager participants used to stream out of its open doors. Whatever fiasco that occurred had given Sim-Dec a bad name. The once shining walls were splattered with graffiti and rotting fruit. The latter ranged from spray painted curses to metal crucifixes bolted to the outside, with four letter messages that nobody but madmen dared repeat.

"Did I cause that?" he mused.

Minato shook away the thought. He was going to meet Yukari here. As far as the boy was concerned, he was re-connecting to an old life. He was never going back, but perhaps he could invite someone else to be part of his new existence.

Minato had thought about the entire scenario―about how it would play out if everything went horribly wrong. Thanatos was a target for the Third Republic and he had to prepare for a possible ambush. Prior to the meeting, he simply thought about what the fairgrounds would look like. In response, the arrow replaced the vision in his eye with a three dimensional layout of the area, both above and below ground. Minato had stayed up all night and studied the layout of the fairgrounds and possible escape routes, which stretched into virtually all land-accessible directions. The terrain was level enough to make a quick sprint to the nearest hiding place.

After calculating all of the possibilities, Minato almost gave himself a heart attack. If he had been this smart at the academy, he might have aced his arithmetic classes.

It was nearing the crack of dawn already, and the morning smog was starting to lift. The sun rose over the urban jungle of a city state. As rays of sunlight and enhanced radiation streamed over the city, morning dew on the grass glistened brilliantly.

Minato had seen the caravan's shows many times in his youth. He also recalled the many cars that were used to store certain star acts: RVs labeled with faded chrome plaques dotted the landscape. Animal storage trucks were filled to nearly full capacity with creatures from all over the world. And even the few large carrier trucks held stunt vehicles of all types.

Hope this place isn't too weird for Yukari, Minato thought. He climbed down from his viewing perch and walked in.

Among the small sea of vehicles were burly men preparing for the day's upcoming events. In one direction, they carried off crates of numerous sizes and shapes. In another, they rushed electronic equipment to numerous stations to prepare for a laser light show. One or two of these working men would glance at the boy but would then just resume whatever they were doing beforehand. It was better this way: no questions, less hassles.

Minato stood at the entrance of the fairgrounds. He stared out into Main Street waiting for his friend to come through. He hoped no one would remember him as the kid who died at Sim-Dec, so he kept a hood up at all times. Waves of vehicles passed through the street. Minato kept his eyes peeled.

"Oh my God," said someone familiar.

Yukari caught him by surprise. She took a different route to the fair and ended up walking a road along the border of the fairgrounds. Minato didn't even notice her as she stared with open eyes at his face. He was almost exactly the same as when he "died." Black hair with white streaks, triangular indents below the eyes, and electric blue irises. This couldn't have been anyone else but Minato.

Minato jerked his head. He almost reverted back to Active Armor before he stopped himself. Yukari didn't appear to notice Minato's own surprise. She clung onto him as if he could fade away at a second's notice.

"Yukari," Minato began to say.

Then she slapped him across the face. It was a surprisingly strong. Minato cupped a growing red bruise over half his face and stared back flabbergasted.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she said. "I thought you were dead!"

"That makes two of us," said Minato. He massaged the red spreading across his face. "This is gonna be a lot to take in, so if you could just hear me out—"

Yukari slapped him again. She winced and flapped her hand in pain. "When did your face become a brick wall?" she said.

Minato kept caressing the slap mark. "Maybe if you let me explain, I could tell you!"

"Then do it," said Yukari. "I'm listening."

"I didn't want to be a jerk about it," said Minato with a sigh. "But I didn't tell you earlier because I changed."

"What does that mean?" asked Yukari.

Minato checked to see if anyone else was on the street. There was no one else besides him and his friend. Minato breathed and partially entered Active Armor. With his newfound control of his abilities, he could transform individual parts of his body rather than all of it at once. Minato rolled up a sleeve. He let Yukari see his hand transform into a black gauntlet.

"Oh my God," she asked.

"I turned into a superhero," said Minato. "Wow, that sounded corny. You ever hear of someone on the news taking down Thirds? That was me."

Yukari stared back with wide eyes "That was you?" she said. "Oh no. What happened to you?"

"I'll tell you on the way in," said Minato. He slowly led his friend farther into the fairgrounds. "Just be prepared to hear some weird stuff. And please don't slap me again."