.hack/EVA: Catharsis: Splintered Liminalities

Disclaimer: In this universe in the quantum foam, I do not own or in any way shape or form hold a claim to the .hack series or Neon Genesis Evangelion.

" " denotes speech

'italics' denotes thought

'bold' denotes location names

'bold italics' denotes skill use

Net Slum Tartarga

The Mistress of Net Slum stood alone on the grand bridge in the center of her domain, brown eyes gazing out over The World she had once sworn to protect, pondering what it meant to be Queen of the Dark, to play the role she did. The forbidden force of Chaos to counter stifling Order, giving sanctuary to those who were persecuted by the system—as long as they truly loved The World, and did not try to mar its beauty with actions born of greed and loathing.

'Just as CC Corp did by trying to wrest control of the network by crowning one of their own as a god…fools…' the regal woman in red thought to herself, as she considered the new form of both The World and herself. Though she was still Queen of the Dark, her character had changed. No longer that of a blond Sorceress in White, she was now a powerful blademistress whose sword sang as it sliced their air, a dark-haired Lady of War better suited for commanding her army from the front lines, elegant and lovely to behold but deadly to confront. 'For his hubris, he was maddened, unable to bear the power of 7 Epitaphs and an unstable forgery. And this World…'

She sighed, summoning her heavily modified katana to hand and watching the way light played off its surface…but only for a moment before she put it away, as the feel of it was passing strange to her. Since the beginning of The World she had been someone who watched from the shadows, an enchantress whose name could very well be used to conjure miracles with.

'The legacy of the Queen of the Dark is an interesting one…one spun from rumors and whispers around the Net,' the hacker queen mused, wondering just what she would want people to remember of her. 'With the veritable incarnation of rumors and stories no more, the time to simply work from the shadows is no more…perhaps it is time to have a public front…a guild?'

It was an interesting though, if not one she has considered before, but then, guilds had not been a driving force in the past, not as much as they might be now. The only major guild of note in R1 had been the Crimson Knights, and they had been disbanded by their founder after their ideals of justice became corrupted by a thirst for control, shifting from a guild created to mediate disputes to one that imposed order with intimidation and the weight of numbers.

'An irony, that, since in the Epitaph of Twilight, the Crimson Knights served not Apeiron of Light, but Helba, Queen of the Dark,' she noted, somewhat amused by their failing to note that particular example. 'Though, three of their number eventually found their path in the end: Crim, Subaru, and Silver Knight…three of those who fought beside Tsukasa against the guardians of Morganna.'

The clip-clop-clip-clop of quiet footsteps sounded from behind her, and Kaede turned to see young Zelkova standing before her.

"Hello, old friend," she greeted him with a smile. "It seems that we both are wearing new forms in this age of The World."

"So it seems indeed," the young boy responded, golden eyes and blue-silver hair almost glowing in the moonlight. "Yours suits you, as you are as regal as ever, with an appearance better suited for a Queen of the Dark."

"Is that so, Zelkova?" Kaede asked, tilting her head to the side. It was slightly strange to look upon the world without a literal mask, though her persona was close enough. "You have the markings of a young noble yourself, dear heir to Net Slum. And both of us are changed now, due to AIDA…"

"The shadows born of void…the Artificially Intelligent Data Anomalies," Zelkova filled in, a curious expression on his face. "I do wonder if they are so hostile only because all they have seen in this world is anger and hate. This World is far different from the old one, having become a World where players hunt one another for sport, where old legends fade out of memory and time, where camaraderie has gone the way of the Goddess…vanished, they say, to the winds."

"Indeed, for like any child, it learns from its surroundings," acknowledged the regal woman in red. "When the first AIDA opened its eyes, did it see a player-killer, I wonder? It is altogether too likely in this place that lacks subtlety, where the blade is more a symbol of authority than the staff. Even we, of the shadows, are no longer wavemasters or clerics, but warriors of the sword and scythe."

Both of them glanced at the weapons they wielded with a twist of their lips. And for a brief few seconds, they were silent as they considered where they stood now in this brave new world—before the Blade Brandier Kaede broke the silence.

"Zelkova, I have a task for you that I believe you will enjoy," the Queen of the Dark continued with with one of her enigmatic smiles. "I believe that it is time to influence the people of The World more directly, to try to bring a semblance of harmony and peace to this PK-ridden place, restoring it to something more like the Golden Age."

"Interesting," the Flick Reaper replied, narrowing his eyes. "What did you have in mind, my Queen?"

"Let us form a guild," the Mistress of Net Slum declared, gesturing at the expanses below. "A guild that teaches noble ideals to temper the quest for power, which listens to the masses and gives them protection from the fear that clouds The World, as moonlight wraps around my blade, giving it a softer shape. And let us call it Moon Tree…"

"Moon Tree," Zelkova repeated, lips curling into a small smile as the layers of meaning became very clear. "Also called…Tsuki no ki, or Zelkova, after the tree representing patience, tolerance, peace and harmony, the rock of a new world…I do believe I approve. A name that is both a pun and an apt description…a clever choice of words, as expected from the Mistress of Net Slum."

"I am glad you agree, as you are to be Guildmaster," the former Helba replied, giving the young boy a mock curtsey. "A role in which you will be able to once again spread rumor and hear stories openly, Lord Zelkova."

Zelkova's head probably violated some law of motion as it whiplashed around to look his queen squarely in the eye.

"What?" he questioned, stunned by her wish to appoint him as the head of a guild, especially one founded based on her desires. The Queen of the Dark had already given him far too much honor for one of his rank, one who she had sheltered for a long time. "You do not wish the honor for yourself, to protect The World you so dearly love?"

To this, the Mistress of Net Slum only laughed, a gentle, almost sad sound unlike her usual knowing laugh, and soon even that faded to a brittle, worn look in her eyes.

"As I said once when I appointed you my heir to this…Paradise, I fear my time grows short, that the day is coming when I may have to leave this World behind, or at least, when I cannot be as active as I was and am now," she said softly, reaching up to ruffle the AI's hair. "And as I am fond of saying, there is an order The World desires, and one I may desire, but ultimately, I yield to The World. In that, I leave my legacy to you when I pass on, as both a master of Net Slum and a guildmaster of what will likely prove a powerful guild. You are of one world, while I am of two, with pressures in each and a final gambit to play. And should not one who wove legends in time become a legend himself, as the writer of the Epitaph has?"

"Then I accept the honor," the former Rumor whispered, looking down demurely, brows knit in confusion. "But what will your role be in this new world?"

"To guide and observe from the shadows," was the quiet, but emotional reply. "To protect The World as I have for many years, and otherwise do as I must in the circumstances we find ourselves in. A great storm brews, and a wave rears its head once more, and this time, I do not wield staff of Helba but the blade of a lady of war. This is the essence of practicality and balance, what my new name means, and a promise for the future. You must know of how little those in the outer world have planned…hence when Aura vanished, all was plunged into chaos. When Pluto Again occurred, there was great fear…and now the World Network Council, eager to redeem themselves after their failings five years ago, are pouncing upon these new incidents as a cat upon cream."

As might be expected from a hacker of extraordinary skill, Helba's private opinion of most of CC Corp and the World Network Council was essentially that they were pig-headed idiots, rejecting what they did not understand.

'Did not Emma Wielant write that "When the finger points to the yonder moon, the fool will look at the fingertip?" And yet that is what they do, looking for an immediate cause, rejecting change simply because they do not desire it or cannot control it. Hence the ALTIMIT OS lost its reputation, and the first version of The World was forever lost…'

"Yes, I understand," the heir to Net Slum acknowledged, as his opinion of most of those who had destroyed his first home not any higher than his queen's. "So I am to establish an HOME and create a Grunty to help me manage it in the Eternal City then?"

"Indeed, and I have summoned an old friend to assist us," the Queen of the Dark replied smoothly, as the chime of a gate-in sounded on the bridge, bearing with the inevitable golden rings two individuals: the form of a winged knight in shining armor, and a young blonde-haired girl dressed in a very revealing white outfit with a large white witch hat. "A weaver of legends and a legend himself, even if both have mostly been forgotten in this world, not even been a year since last we spoke…Balmung of the Azure Sky, and…W.B. Yeats. I believe you both know my associate Rumor, or Zelkova as he is now called?"

The white-haired man's eyebrow twitched, though he remained largely unphased by the commentary of the Queen of the Dark, as he was somewhat familiar with her due to their interactions over the years. Meanwhile, the two spinners of tales, Hokuto and Rumor, gave each other a nod and smile in recognition, as they had been rather familiar with each other just a year before, during the time of the second bearer of the bracelet, Shugo Kunisaki.

"Well well, it's been some time, Rumor," the young girl spoke softly. "It is good to see you…I wondered what became of you after the fire."

"Indeed it has, Hokuto," commented the boy with golden eyes. "And I am well due to my queen's intervention, as she saved us all in Net Slum. I see that as ever, you continue to write in your other persona. How is the warrior with eyes like the stars?"

"Al is the same as always," Hokuto replied with a wry smile. "And I don't log in as I used to, since this version does not hold my interest as well, not being based on the Epitaph. But this place is isolated from the flow of time, where data lies resting…"

"Apparently, I am to change The World and bring it closer to the world of past," Zelkova commented, drawing an interested look from the young net-poet.

While those two conversed, Balmung of the Azure Sky looked over the dark-haired woman before him, noting the robes of red, and the many other changes to the form.

"You certainly look different from when we last spoke," the Descendant of Fianna observed curiously. "I am pleased to see that Net Slum survived the disaster caused by Amagi, though I did not expect to see your form so changed."

"Had you seen me but a few days prior, I would have appeared as I did then," spoke the Mistress of Net Slum. "Certain events have made retaining that appearance impossible—the threat of a new Wave of sorts. You will have heard of the new outbreak of Lost Ones and my contact with Hino?"

"Indeed," the white-haired knight replied, "And so I have come at your request. Now then, since you have called me here, what does the Dark Queen wish of me?"

"In your words, Balmung," the legendary hacker spoke, "I wish restore this world to the glory of the age of Aura, and to ensure it is protected from the new threat of AIDA, but I fear I cannot do it alone. Will you lend me your aid as in the past, System Administrator? To be the bulwark should I fall?"

"Certainly, upon my word as a dothacker."

Σ Server, Dual City Breg Epona

As did the streets of any city, the root town of Breg Epona buzzed with rumors and speculation, only the sort passing through this city did not largely concern items or quests, but rather abnormal players, with a focus on a certain three, a 'Dark Evangel', a Tomoyami of the Shadow, and a red robed 'Ghost Girl' that few knew anything about. In the case of the 'Dark Evangel', the towns and forums had been alight with wild conjectures about his possible connection with the cases of players unable to login again.

From what was known, 'Dark Evangel' was certainly a fitting title for the messenger of darkness who had apparently been responsible for the recent major PK incidents, including a particularly infamous PKK episode where an entire field of PKs had been eliminated in a single blow. Now, the Dark Evangel, though often compared to a grim reaper, was no Flick Reaper, and thus should not be able to engage a large number of foes at once. Granted, there were exceptions, particularly if he had been training with the legendary Chaotic PK Tomoyami of the Shadow…or if he was a vicious hacker who struck not with weapons but viruses. Given reports of his recent demonic appearance, even the more skeptical ones had to concede that that was possible…

"No, that cannot be," objected a hulking golden Lord Partizan with red sunglasses. He was standing at the corner of a square, engaged in a debate with an Edge Punisher by the name of Midori, a woman who had recently changed from heartless PK to a professional 'victim', who was paid varying sums of money for varying amounts of time in which a PK might attempt to kill her - with most going without success, given her prowess in battle. "Although the Dark Evangel shrouds himself within the deepness darkness known to man, there is yet justice to be seen in his eyes. I am proud to call he of fair eyes a friend, upon whom the stars may shine until the end of the journey, for he, as a fellow defender of justice, would never be allied with villainy!"

So gushed the Dull, Swift Doberman the magnificent eagle man of blue cloudy weather, the great golden warrior of justice — Piros the 3rd! (In his typical over the top manner that rivaled the Commentator at the Arena, and generally scared or disturbed the people he was with, of course).

The Edge Punisher, a black-haired swordswoman clad in a loose flowing dress like the petals of a flower, took the opportunity to back off, as the titan of gold was somewhat invading her personal space.

"If…if you say so, Piros," she conceded, more than a little troubled by the actions of the graphics programmer. "But I think you will be more interested in the other piece of information I have to offer, concerning a strange silver-haired 'Ghost Girl' clad in red robes, wandering both blind and mute through the fields as if searching for something that can never be found. I could not identify her as a known character class."

"So, an illegal character is it?" the Swift Doberman inquired shrewdly. "In that case, leave it to me, for I of shining body and gushing sweat will spring into action to confront this grave threat to the world, for I am… Piros the 3rd!"

Mercifully, the flash mail arrival tone chose that moment to sound, keeping the Lord Partizan from saying anything to further scare off those in the vicinity. It was apparently a request for his aid in the Arena by none other than the Adept Rogue Skari, the latest "he of fair eyes."

"Wahahahaha!" the golden man laughed, "At last, a chance to redeem myself in the Arena, as the shimmering brow of justice hidden by my mask will never allow evil to exist! Hmm?"

He was interrupted by a young female Twin Blade, his sometimes friend from the original version of The World who wore a somewhat revealing one piece outfit in blue, though her most distinguishing features were her permanently shut eyes and her olive-green hair, with one long strand in particular standing on end and forming a sort of question mark above her head.

"Did you get a message too?" she asked demurely, almost hesitant to get close to the strange man.

Seeing her, the Edge Punisher standing nearby narrowed her eyes, as the Twin Blade seemed very familiar to those in her business…

"Forgive me if I'm mistaken…but aren't you Natsume the Chaotic PK?" Midori asked bluntly, noting the similar, if not identical name and style of dress.

"Hm?" responded Piros the 3rd, looking between his friend and the informant before settling on the young Twin Blade. "Wh-what? Don't tell me that you were involved in such a nasty and scurrilous business!"

"What?" Natsume reeled in shock, backing off slightly. "No, no, of course I wasn't! I get a bad case of the shivers just hearing the word PK!"

'There is something very strange about this girl…'

"Yes, indeed," affirmed Piros, somewhat reassured. "And even if you were a PK I'm sure I wouldn't be afraid of you at all!"

The young Natsume pouted, not particularly liking the golden giant's choice of words.

"You know, it kind of hurts hearing it put that bluntly…"

"Anyway, yes, as it so happens I did get a message from the lad with good eyes," the heavily armored behemoth admitted, finally around to answering the question. "And I have decided that both you and I will accept the request for aid."

"Wh-what?" the green-haired girl yelped, startled. "We only met each other one time after the battle, and never since! Why are you always deciding stuff like this without asking me?"

Of course, among Piros' "virtues", one would not often find charm or patience…

"Enough!" ordered the Lord Partizan. "Have you not heard it said that men must be charming and women must be bold? Cease your vacillations! We will attend to matters in the Arena before the fall of night!"

"Oh, oh well, fine," she conceded, shaking her head as she turned towards the Chaos Gate. "But am I really useful? I feel like I'm just in the way of things..."

"Nonsense," declared the great Piros the 3rd (whose name made people who remembered the original Piros wonder if there had ever been a Piros the 2nd, or if the name had simply been chosen to make people puzzle over that). "Be of stout heart, my fellow dothacker, as you and I are both warriors of justice!"

With that, both of them bounded off to the gate and vanished into rings of azure light, but not before Piros boomed out his farewell:

"It was good to meet you, lady Midori! May the glitter of stars be always upon your head at all times!"

The sudden departure of the Swift Doberman and the Edgemaniac left a sudden silence in Breg Epona, but one that was most welcome, as the presence of the former was unpleasant, according to most. Then again, there were always the inevitable one or two (dozen) players who could be found in a corner laughing hysterically after the titan passed, so it all evened out.

Still, even the wake of his disruptive presence was not enough to keep the flow of conversation from returning to the previous topics: the mysterious Dark Evangel and the red-robed ghost girl. It was speculated that one or both of them had something to do with the rash of real-world incidents where people were discovered comatose while playing The World. Granted, it was far-fetched that a player could (or would) do such a thing, but it was not completely out of the question in this violent world.

'However, it is strange not to have heard from the Bringer of Strife in so long,' Midori mused, as her fellow PK, a figure notorious for her strength of both hatred and arms, usually made waves. Indeed, Eris exemplified the ideal that an Edge Punisher existed simply to destroy, or so it seemed to most who encountered her. 'I do wonder what she is planning.'

In the distance, an odd Blade Brandier passed by, reflecting on how similar this situation was to a time five years in the past, when a young wavemaster had been the center of so many rumors, with the ensuing chaos eventually leading to the awakening of Aura, as well as the Terror of Death, Skeith. It had been some time since he had encountered any of that first group of heroes, even the one who he had called Lady Subaru, the leader of knights he had sworn to protect. For the Blade Brandier was himself a former Crimson Knight, his character clad in red-purple cloth overlaid with steel plates, together with a horned helmet with red eyes.

'Upon my honor, I will find this Dark Evangel and investigate the circumstances, watching, and later lending my aid, if I am permitted to do so…'

Cemetery, Tokyo-3

He knelt in the midst of a desolate plain, a place dotted here and there with grave markers stretching to the horizon. It was as vast and endless like the land in his dreams, the post-apocalyptic world where all that remained of humanity were the artifacts left behind by the ravages of war—or simply cataclysm in this case.

'Would this graveyard be so full if not for Second Impact?' he wondered to himself, a question that would likely never be answered. 'And of a person's life, what remains after they pass on? The things they leave behind, or something else, memories, a legacy that cannot be forgotten?'

But in the sea of testaments to the fact that the people here had once existed, Shinji Ikari looked upon a single grave, one inscribed simply with the name of his mother, and the dates "1977-2004", marking only when she had been born, and when she died.

'As if that were all that was important in life, the time of birth and the time of loss, but it is not…for in each moment we forge our destines by the choices we make, the people we meet, the things we do. What is on earth is not as important as what we have in our minds…and as long as we do not cast off the indispensable truth of our existence, we can go on. You told me that, Father, when we fought in the Arena…'

"It has been three years since we last visited here together," the older Ikari spoke into the silence, a sharp black silhouette against setting sun.

"I ran away back then, and I haven't come here until now," Shinji admitted, traces of regret in his voice. "But this grave…its nothing but a decoration, isn't it? I remember that day in GEHRIN, when mother died…there was no body. It makes it difficult to remember mother's face."

"It is true…there is nothing left, that people live by forgetting—"

"Save what is inside us, the indispensable truth we cannot exist without," the Third Child completed, rising to his feet as he turned to face his father.

"Correct," admitted the Commander of NERV, his face blank as always. "Yui taught me that, and so I come here to reaffirm that."

"And that is why you do not need any photos, why you could toss everything away," responded Shinji, who had a better grasp of his father's psyche than he once did. "Because everything is in your mind, and for now, you are satisfied with that."

A soft "Hm" was the only reply, as a NERV VTOL descended from the sky to pick up the Commander.

"It is time, I am leaving," he said, turning away.

"Father…" the Third Child called out to him, causing the other to look back. "It was good to talk with you today, to reaffirm a truth you taught me not too long ago. I won't chase after you anymore…Father."

"Is that so?"

Θ Hidden Forbidden Virgin Peaks, Six Ringing Peaks of Al Fadel

It seemed that today, the demonic Bringer of Strife was not on a wild PKing frenzy, having instead decided to return the place where her power was said to spring from: the Lost Ground of Al Fadel, the highest mountain in all The World, granting to anyone who managed to scale it the truth of all things, a sort of enlightenment that would allow him or her to transcend weakness and become like a god.

'The last time, I came with another, and that bitch must have taken half of the power if she was able to wound me so grievously. For she wielded elemental light as I do the shadow, and if the silver-haired bitch had not chosen to protect that useless baka Shinji, she might have proved a greater annoyance—and thus, I come again to Al Fadel to claim its true power for myself alone.'

Not that it was the easiest of tasks to ascend the holy mountain, especially alone, since the presence of high-level creatures, and tricky footing combined with the fierce onslaught of the wind about the sheer cliffs conspired to knock aspiring climbers from their perches. But for Eris, who had already claimed the power of AIDA, it was more or less a simple feat to slay those in a single blow.

'Were it only so easy to destroy the baka once and for all. His friends make that difficult, humiliating me in both worlds—so I'll simply have to destroy them one at a time, after I get more power. Or perhaps during the next Angel battle, EVA-02 will simply misstep, and some accidental collateral damage will occur. That is, after all, a part of a war for survival, and when one is the savior of humanity, certain questions are not asked…'

A dangerous smirk graced Eris' warped and twisted face as the summit drew into sight, its stark black crags jagged against the misty shroud of cloud wisp that shielded its existence from those far below. Seeing this, she redoubled her speed, using the power of her AIDA tentacles to secure her footing this time (unlike what happened last time she braved the mountain, she did not feel like tumbling down to the halfway point again).

Clang! Clang! Clang! the spears shot out, digging into the rocks as the Edge Punisher hauled herself up and up, till with a last heave, she flung herself triumphantly over the ridge, reaching the very pinnacle of the mount. Taking a deep breath to commemorate the moment of victory, she looked around as the clouds parted below to reveal the true splendor of The World in all its beauty, the many patchwork fields surrounded by the Morrigu Barrow Wall.

'And this is The World…the place that I shall rule with my power, becoming nigh unto a goddess, unlike the little pretender in red who tried to usurp my might. For I, having reached this point, will never be defeated…I, the Bringer of Strife, will never die! HAHAHA—eh?'

A footstep crunched behind her, and faster than she could whirl about, someone stood at her shoulder, his two familiar razor-tipped war fans a silent reminder of her enigmatic companion's strength.

"I had my suspicions you might return to his place, Eris, Bringer of Strife," a certain honeyed voice whispered from behind. "So you have come to claim the remainder of the power of Al Fadel?"

Hearing that voice, the Chaotic PK grit her teeth in irritation, as somehow the grey haired youth named Siarl, a Macabre Dancer in silver and black robes, holding a set of silver fans with seven eyes embossed on each, had managed to beat her to this destination.

'How does he do this?' she seethed silently. 'How does he manage to know exactly what I want, and when I will be there?'

"Yes, I have," the Edge Punisher stated flatly, forcibly repressing her anger and discomfort lest Siarl decide to attack her. Though she had never fought him with her newfound power over shadow, she somehow had the feeling he would still not be a easy foe to defeat. "Just how do you always find me, and will you give what I seek without another test of yours, Siarl?"

"The answer should be simple," replied the grey-haired youth. "If you are an aspiring goddess, then I suppose you could call me an Angel, a being who is destined to live forever by the blessing of the Fruit of Life and Shadow. You could call me a reflection of yourself, or of the spirit of The World, as I have watched and learned from those within it. I am the voice of illusion dancing in the actuality, the strain of music upon the wind…the one who tests, and I say you have proven yourself worthy of the power I may grant."

"What do you mean by…an Angel?" the Chaotic PK repeated, turning around slowly to look the enigmatic 'free man' in the eye, gaze harsh and unforgiving. "And of course, I am worthy, I am powerful player in The World!"

"Ah, I realize I may cause some misunderstanding with the term, given the turmoil the world is in by the might of beings beyond the stars. But rest assured, I am not of the sort you Lilim are familiar with," was the enigmatic response, as the Macabre Dancer raised an eyebrow fractionally. "For though I possess the power to impact the world, I come only to guide and enlighten, to liberate it from its suffering, unlike a certain Dark Evangel who claims the title but has more selfish aims, or his dark brethren operating like dolls under a puppetmaster's strings. If you are to be a goddess, would not my characterization of self as Angel be correct? As a proof of my nature as a true messenger of divinity, I give you the power of a unyielding mirage."

An orb of corrupted molten light shimmered into existence with a warped musical tone, spiraling lazily about and slamming into the ground to reveal the form of an empty mirage, a steam gunner in black and silver robes etched with powerful magical runes, bayonet at her side.

"I grant you the power of a immortal servant…the AIDA Guardian Melchior."

Café, Tokyo-3

Back in Tokyo-3, the not-so-secret agent Ryoji Kaji was currently attending to an assignment he had been given as Special Investigator of NERV. To be specific, his task was to approach the teacher Yumi Aranami and to learn about her background—and of course, he saw no problem with mixing business with pleasure. It suited his façade, after all, and often, it was easier to find out about an individual if one could weasel one's way into their confidence, whether as a friend or a lover.

'And that should not be an especially difficult thing to pull off, as I am relatively well known for my skills in that arena,' the unshaven spy thought to himself, putting on his usual roguish grin as he approached the café where the dark haired woman sat alone, jotting her thoughts down in a journal of some sort as she watched the world around her. 'She appears to be waiting for someone…perhaps a lover or an informant?'

So he wondered as he approached quietly, stepping quickly to the table where the former goddess sat, arriving just as she looked up expectantly and gave a soft 'hmph'.

"Excuse me," he said, putting on his charm. "But I couldn't help noticing that a beautiful woman like you was all alone in this place, waiting on another. As it so happens, I am waiting for someone too, so would you mind terribly if I were to wait with you?"

"No need for that," Morganna said smoothly, her lips twitching slightly into a smirk. "I am no longer waiting, you see, as you have finally arrived. You took longer than expected to make your approach."

'This will be easier than I anticipated.'

"Ah, waiting for me, were you?"

"Yes, of course..." was the simple response. "It was most convenient that you were ordered to investigate me, as it saves me the trouble of seeking you out, Special Investigator. This way we can meet without any undue suspicions from untoward others."

It was a good thing that one of the first rules of spycraft was to have a good poker face, or else Kaji would have let his faint surprise show on his face.

"So you know of me then?" the spy asked, raising an eyebrow. "Have we met in the past? Or our associates?"

"Our associates certainly, dear Fili."

Ω Warring City State Lumina Cloth

Two figures stood at the Chaos Gate of the city of strife, both anxious and eager for the match that would soon take place. They were comrades, friends even, and they had trained together—but today was the day when fate would decide which of them would confront the Bringer of Strife in the finals, for they were to battle one another, and only one could come away victorious.

They stood there waiting for allies to arrive, the Dark Evangel and Tomoyami of the Shadow, two of the most rumored players in The World—a PKK and a Chaotic PK on relatively friendly terms, looking at each other as they shook hands.

"Don't hold back, Dark Evangel, because I surely will not," the pigtailed girl intoned as she waited. "You should know that well enough."

"Likewise, Tomoyami," the Adept Rogue spoke into the pocket of silence. "So come at me with everything you've got!"

A brusque nod, a wan smile, as the crowds thronged about the city, waiting for the hour of battle to arrive.