"Uncle, you're shaking?"
Keroro glanced over at Mois, whose large, blue eyes were wide with concern. He made himself stop shivering, mentally chastising himself for the visible display of weakness, and offered her a reassuring smile. There was no use worrying his subordinates after all. "Hey, no worries, Mois-dono," he drawled with a lazy wave of his hand. "I'm fine. What we should be concerned about is the mission, de arimasu."
"Yeah!" Tamama interjected from across the table. He was shaking as well, although from the look on his face it had nothing to do with the cold; if looks could maim, the one he was giving the Angol would have left her in a basket. "The Sergeant doesn't need your pity, woman, so back off!"
Keroro fixed the two of them with a stern glare, and Tamama immediately reddened and silenced. Normally he didn't mind their rivalry – in fact, he silently approved of it, being of the mind that competition spurred hard work – but at the moment, dissent among the ranks was the last thing he needed. That, or for another of them to disappear on him. An unavoidable sigh escaped his throat at the thought of his Corporal and Lance Corporal – wherever they were – and Mois gave him another fretful glance at the sound. This time he simply found it irritating.
"Look," he said patiently, "I know we're all on edge about this, de arimasu. We're tired, we're hungry, and we have no idea what's going on." He couldn't help but flick his eyes in Peppers' direction; the man claimed to have told them all he could, but they still knew next to nothing. He was difficult to crack, that one, and the more time Keroro spent around him the less sense he made. There were only two possible explanations that Keroro could reason out for his abnormalities: The first was that the man was insane, the second…
"…you're not human," Keroro said quietly. The rest of the platoon gasped, and Peppers' head swiveled sharply in his direction, knowing the statement was directed at him. A bead of sweat trickled down the sergeant's face as they regarded one another, the tension between the two of them congealing into an uncomfortable silence. Keroro knew the atmosphere all too well, having experienced Giroro's wrath before; it was the anticipatory pause that filled the moment between the cock of a gun and the pull of the trigger. It was as if Keroro had bared his weapon, and was waiting for the duel to begin.
But whatever showdown he expecting, it didn't happen. After a few moments of unreadable silence, Peppers simply shrugged and resumed what he was doing. "Not human," he mused as he worked. "You may be right. I'd actually considered the possibility myself a time or two. But after thinking it over long and hard, I'm pretty sure I am. Just doesn't make sense otherwise."
Keroro gaped at his unexpected response. Pretty sure he was? What kind of answer was that? Whatever it meant, Kururu at least seemed to appreciate it, having nearly fallen out of his chair laughing.
"Ku ku ku! I'm actually inclined to believe him, boss." The intelligence officer paused to catch his breath and wipe tears from under his glasses. "He's just crazy enough that he may be telling the truth. Ku ku! Besides," he leaned in slightly and lowered his voice, "I'm a genius, and even I've never seen translating technology that can do what this guy can. He's not just speaking one language and everyone else hearing it in another one – it's like he's speaking every language at once, and everybody understands it. Technology like that is way beyond what even we're capable of doing… ku ku ku!"
"He may have a point, Uncle," Mois piped up. "You could say, truth is stranger than fiction?"
Keroro frowned, considering what they were saying. Whoever – or whatever – this Peppers guy was, he embodied something that none of them could explain. And it wasn't just him; it was this whole messed-up town. The more he had seen of this place, the more he'd begun to realize that what he'd always accepted as the truth was nothing but a dark mirror that masked the sinister reality beneath, and Arkham served as a nexus between the two levels of existence. Earlier he had questioned Peppers' sanity, but now he was beginning to question his own. In a universe like this, what did it mean to be sane, anyway?
"Hey, Sarge," Peppers said suddenly, running his fingers through his almost apologetically. "Listen, I know this isn't easy for you guys. I wish I could tell you more, but the fact is there isn't a whole lot more that I know. The truth is, I don't even know anything about the first thirteen or so years of my life… don't remember a shred of it." He grinned widely, the sudden visage making him look even more like a madman against his unkempt mess of hair. "But there is someone who does know. I think. If you really want answers… I guess I could take you to South Church. You'll find her there." Keroro couldn't help but notice the cloaked witch, whose name he had learned was Veruca, look up at Peppers with a start. She made a move as if to protest, but the Pokopenian silenced her with a small wave of a hand. "It's alright, V. The fool on the hill knows what he's doing… don't I always?"
The twilight eyes simmered with skepticism, but she folded her hands and nodded acquiescingly. The hierarchy among these Pokopenians was decidedly baffling. Keroro turned to the rest of the platoon, who were looking at him as if awaiting instructions, and knew that they could not undertake the task they'd been given without more information. If they were to have any chance at all, they would have to cast their lots with Peppers. "Master Peppers," he said finally, "the Keroro platoon is prepared to follow you, de arimasu. Show us where to go."
A normal Keronian would be loath to remain out in such cold, dry air, but within his meditative state Dororo was barely conscious of physical discomforts. He needed rest, in spirit as well as in body; from his perch atop one of the high, sloped roofs he allowed his entire being to slide into a serene dissociation, his mind distanced from all sensation save that of his companion. The warmth that he felt from her presence was an anchor to reality, a reminder of that long-forgotten dream which he had all but abandoned during his time in Carcosa. Keron and Earth were just planets to him now – home was where Koyuki was, and now he had come home once again.
Her voice spoke in his mind.
Dororo… what happened while you were gone?
She was nervous. He could feel the uncertainty in her soul wavelength; unlike the physical voice, which could be disguised, speaking with the mind made it nearly impossible for even the best-trained ninja to hide their emotions. He inhaled deeply, trying to clear his mind. He didn't want to frighten her.
The opponent we are up against is greater than we imagined, my Koyuki. I have seen where it grows, this decay which is overtaking Earth like a cancer. It is a land of twisted reality, a corruptive blight that would make even the strong weep for release. Koyuki, my one and only… I fear we cannot stop its spread.
He felt strangely calm as he explained the situation to her – no fear crept through, only a deep, relentless sadness. She felt it, and reached out mentally to comfort him. She was afraid, deeply so, yet he detected the slightest hint of joy when he called her his one and only. Her face flashed in his mind, a tiny, cat-like smile creasing the edges of her mouth, and he couldn't help but smile himself at the thought of her.
There must be something we can do, Dororo. Even if we cannot succeed, we must try.
He nodded to himself and opened his eyes. He remembered the gates Calili had a shown him, their numbers seemingly infinite as they stretched across space-time like a sea. It was impossible… but no, Koyuki was right. They must at least try.
A faint rumble sounded nearby, so low it almost could have been the imagination. Dororo's ears perked up, and he noticed Koyuki had turned suddenly in its direction. No need to ask if she'd heard it; something was almost certainly there.
"Dororo, what is that?"
He frowned, wrinkling his nose as he caught of a whiff of an unidentifiable stench. The rumbling sounded again, this time louder. "I don't know. Koyuki… be on your guard."
A shockwave suddenly rippled through the air, nearly blasting Dororo from the rooftop. He flipped in midair, instinctively twisting to regain his foothold, and as he and Koyuki landed simultaneously the air around them darkened and seemed to become thicker. Almost immediately the stink became unbearable, flooding into Dororo's mouth and nostrils until he nearly gagged. Looking up, he tried to distinguish what it was, but could only make out a monstrous brown sheen that slicked across the surface of the sky like an oily snakeskin.
"Dororo! It… it's huge!"
His eyes followed where Koyuki was pointing, tracing the surface of the beast across its roiling mass which flowed from the sky into the streets and around the entire block. It flowed like liquid, but as he looked closer he could make out a mound of scaly, segmented flesh, like a monstrous ethereal tapeworm. Dororo gritted his teeth, his katana flashing from its scabbard as he prepared for battle. From the corner of his eye, he saw Koyuki; she was shaking badly, her eyes wide and staring vacantly into nothing, and even when Dororo tried to reach out to her with his mind she remained rooted to the spot, unresponsive.
"Koyuki! Koyuki, you must fight it!"
The thing blacked out the sky as it twisted above them; it had no head, but the ragged stump at its base turned to face them as if it could somehow see its prey. It made no noise save the low rumble that split the air as it thrashed about, coiling over and around itself in monstrous anticipation. Koyuki stepped back, not even seeming to notice as she lost her footing and began to pitch backward off the roof and toward the blackened streets below.
"Koyuki!"
The beast charged.
