Kenta

I once heard a story in my yakuza days in Japan, his name was Hojo and he fancied himself an intellectual, I wasn't impressed with him but we would stand guard and do boring things and he would fill the time. The story was about the french revolution. A crowd of angry people rush by, they're armed, screaming and in a rage, they march forward in unison eager for violence, then when they are gone a man wheezes and huffs.

"Where did the mob go? I am it's leader."

Hojo laughed at that and I did not I didn't get it. Now I'm chained to something, getting ready to be sent to Pluto, to the Birdcage. Now I get it and it still isn't funny, because as much as I hate to admit it. I am that slow wheezing man, and now that I'm not able to escape into drugs, fighting, and hedonism I'm confronted with myself. Confronted with my own issues, and I have come to a startling realization, for all my power, all of my might...

I was not in control of the ABB, I don't think I was ever in control. At first it felt weird people... liked me, respected me. It felt unnatural, I was the bad guy, I was born to be the bad guy. I killed the 40 to make a name for myself and found little old ladies being nice to me, not out of some fear but out of gratitude. I tried to stay close to my roots, to be the yakuza I have always wanted to be. To be that man, the man who I idolized.

Now he's a monk and he says I'm his greatist sin, that I was supposed to be a hero... and now I'm waiting to go offworld. I know the ABB, know Bakuda, I know what they will do if I'm not there and for the first time in my life, I care. I can not let the comming madness happen, can't let this cycle continue. I have always been a problem, a little half chinese, japanese shit. A troublemaker, a problem to be solved, I don't know if I can be something else. I have squandered all of my chances, all of my opportunities. This is it... just destruction and madness, and it is all my fault.

I try to think of something, the gods... but who would listen to me? I close my eyes my throat dry and parched.

"Hachiman..."

Come on.

"Hachiman I have never prayed to you, I am not a good man, nor am I an honorable one, but something bad is going to happen and if I do not stop it a lot of innocent people will die. I'm not asking to get away with what I have done... I understand that but please. Please give me the chance to stop this."

The van rocked, and the world exploided.

"LUNG! LUNG! LUNG! LUNG!"

The chanting surrounds me as I walk out of the rubble, I feel my strength returning, feel the burn.

"Where are the rest of you?"

The gangster smiles.

"Finishing off the Hajis, they're not going to be a problem for much longer."

I close my eyes and scream, I focus my power behind me and jump, this is my chance, maybe my final chance. I have prayed to the god of war to give me the chance to create peace... maybe he found the irony funny enough to grant me this small reprieve. As I get closer, I transform. I'm pumping everything I have into it. All of my hate, all of my fear, and all of my hope. I get to the Enclave, the walls are down, the mercenaries are defiant, my men are armed.

"STOP!"

Everyone stares at me, the men smile, I look at them a giant dragon, no one has died yet.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS NOW!"

They smile at the mercenaries and then slowly realize who I'm really talking to.

"But."

"THIS IS NOT HONORABLE BEHAVIOR, THIS IS NOT WHAT I TAUGHT YOU! DROP YOUR WEAPONS NOW!"

Slowly but surely I watch as shotguns, assault rifles, pistols, swords, baseball bats and a hundred other arms are dropped.

"Go Home, All of you!"

They blink, but I'm huge, big and my soft words carry weight and power, I watch as they all leave. The other refugees are terrified but I do not attack. I look at the mercenaries... I can't fix this but I know who can, I know the price.

"Call in the Protectorate... I'm willing to make a deal."

With that I sit down, I'm standing guard now, waiting... Armsmaster is a brave man, an enemy but a brave man, he comes alone.

"Are you willing to come quietly?"

"I'm here to make a deal."

He looks around at the dropped weapons the masses of weapons.

"What kind of deal?"

I take in a breath, warry of his halberd.

"Your Protectorate, it has Thinkers yes? I'm willing to fight the Endbringers for you."

"You can't join us."

I take in a breath.

"From prison..."

He blinks.

"I will remain in your jail, coming out only to fight those battles, and when the war is over, I'm willing to go to Pluto, to leave this world behind, but I have a price."

He's silent.

"And that price?"

I take in a breath... I prayed for this chance, I can't fuck it up.

"End this hatred, this pointless conflict between refugees, end it and I will give you information on every drug stash, every gun cache, and I will take full responsibility for all that the ABB have done under my leadership."

He stares at me, I do nothing as he calls it in. I let him talk, let him say what he is going to say and then he looks at me.

"I've talked to my people, and it's been kicked up the chain of command... there will be a lot of restrictions."

"I know."

He starts talking to them.

"Right, they're having the Thinkers come up with a plan, it's going to take a lot of work... but they think they can pull it off, but you're going to have to do your part Lung, you're going to have to give yourself up."

I look up one last time at the sky.

"I accept your terms."

We wait in silence for the PRT vehicle, when it comes I get on the platform, I let them chain me, I stare at the ceiling of the van. I'm going to prison, but for some reason, for the first time in a long time I feel free.