O_O  Two updates in one month!!  (sad, sad)  Ah well, I'm still really busy, but I also really want to finish this.  *rrgh*

To da*mouse:  *bows* Gomen nasai.  I shall try not to kill as many people from now on.  And don't worry, we'll get another YoNa moment or two…just not quite yet. 

To Kaori: ^___^  Thanks.  And is that your gorgeous artwork up at Shamanistic Manjien?

            They did not enter the matrix right away, as Yoh had expected, but found themselves in the eternal blankness of the Construct.  Ren's voice, echoing about them like the speech of some irritable divine being, informed them that he thought they needed some sort of weapons.  The brothers sensed a click of sorts, the feeling of a new program being accessed, and suddenly, they found themselves surrounded by a selection of combat tools that spanned the entire Construct. 

            Yoh gaped for a moment at the rack of firearms that had appeared before him, and then turned around to see Hao carefully examining a display box of twelve-pointed throwing stars.  "We can take anything??"

            "Yes, anything," replied the Voice of Ren, the sharpness of his tone trying to cover the strain the day's events had had on him.  Yoh could almost hear him clench his teeth as Hao nonchalantly tossed the box of shuriken over his shoulder, scattering the sharp objects around his feet. 

            "How am I supposed to choose?" asked Yoh, feeling bewildered.  "There are so many choices – is that a Zulu spear??"

            "I would suggest guns, if I might," said the Voice of Ren.  "The longer range on them would probably be the most useful."

            "No it wouldn't," said Hao brightly.  "Not against the Agents."

            "Not all your adversaries will be Agents.  Besides, I really don't think you want to engage in hand-to-hand combat with anyone, Jeanne or Marco especially.  Not after how Anna faired," argued Ren.

            Hao shrugged.  "You've got a point, I suppose.  Though Agents can be frightfully amusing during a fight, you know."

            "You're insane," said Ren, a scowl obvious in his voice.

            "Oniichan," said Yoh, examining a Glock, "which of these is best?"

            Hao picked up a few shuriken and tossed them experimentally at a rack of archery equipment.  "Just take whatever looks coolest."

            "Well, what are you taking?"

            Hao paused, and then picked out a single .45.  "There.  That's what I'm taking."

            "I would advise you take a little more in terms of weaponry," said the Voice of Ren in a steely tone. 

            "Ah, but you are forgetting something."

            "And what is that?"

            "That I'm Asakura Hao.  I have more than a few tricks up my sleeve.  Good hackers always do."

            "Something that could beat the Agents?" asked Yoh.

            Hao shrugged.  "I've been playing with manipulating data."  He brushed the air in front of him, making it warp oddly.

            Yoh stared.  "How…how did you do that?"

            "Bending data to my will.  I've always been able to do it, really.  And that's not the least of it.  Watch."  He snapped his fingers, and a blue flame appeared at the tips, flickering and blazingly hot.  Then, with a flick of his wrist, he sent the fire speeding toward the closest supply rack.  Fortunately, it was only a stand of kwan-daos, and not an ammunition supply, thought Yoh as he watched everything disintegrate in flames. 

            "Could you not destroy other people's programs??" snapped Ren, seemingly irritated by the destruction of the kwan-daos.

            "It's completely repairable," reassured Hao.  "Don't worry.  So, Otouto, what are you taking?"

            Yoh hefted a pair of Desert Eagles, and nodded.  "These, I guess, and…" His eyes swept his surroundings once again.  "I'd like a good blade."

            "A silver one for the heart of the female Agent?" jested Hao.

            "That's not funny, Oniichan," said Yoh, studying a gorgeous daisho, a pair of samurai swords.

            Hao walked over to look too.  "You know," he said, "the katana would be too long to wield properly, especially if we're going to be in tight spaces.  If you really want a blade, try this."  He picked up the wakizashi, the shorter of the pair, and handed it to his brother.  "Sure you don't want more weaponry?  You can't throw fire, can you?"

            "No, I can't," said Yoh with a shake of his head.  "Anna never uploaded that one for me."

            "I wouldn't expect so.  I wrote the program for it within myself.  As far as I know, no one else has ever done that."

            "No one has written a program within themselves," said Ren.  "I don't see how it's possible."

            "I guess that makes me something of a freak, eh?" asked Hao, sounding rather flattered. 

            Ren paused, and Yoh could sense him scowl, but he gave no retort.  "I'm putting you guys in the matrix now."

            "I guess this means I'll be doing most of the fighting, huh, Yoh?" asked Hao.

            Yoh nodded.  "I'm…eh, not very good at it."

            "Oh, really?  Who have you fought?"

            "Erm…not too many people.  Manta…and…and Anna."

            Hao suppressed a snicker.  "And me.  We were five and you stole my orange.  I kicked your—"

            The rest of his words were lost as the construct vanished around them and they plunged into the matrix with a peculiar sense of falling. 

*

            They entered in the back of a drab, empty alley that opened on one end into a relatively busy street.  Yoh started toward it, but Hao put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.  "Wait a minute, will you?" he asked.  "We have time."

            "But…Anna…," protested Yoh.

            Hao dismissed the objection with a wave of his hands.  "A few minutes won't make much difference.  I need to talk to you."

            "Oh.  Okay.  About what?"

            "Well, you saw the Oracle, right?  And she told you…."

            "Oh.  That," said Yoh.  "She said that I wasn't the One; that you are."

            Hao blinked, and then scrutinized his brother's face.  "She did?"

            Yoh nodded.  "She said she'd met you before.  Isn't that what she told you?"
            "You doubt the words of the Oracle?"

            Yoh frowned; his brother was avoiding the question.  But then he thought of Anna, and the time they were wasting, and didn't push the subject.  "I've heard the Oracle is never wrong.  Is that all you wanted to talk about?"

            "Well, one more thing," said Hao, regaining his composure.  "If you were, by any slim chance, to actually turn out to be the One, how would you propose to free humanity?"

            Yoh thought about that.  "I…I don't know, really."

            Hao nodded.  "Hadn't given it any thought, ne?  Just like you used to do with your homework projects back in middle school."

            "And I suppose you've thought about it?" asked Yoh, slightly put out by the reference to his lazy schooldays. 

            "I have," replied Hao.  "Indeed, it's really quite simple.  We'd follow the pattern our ancestors tried to use to defeat the machines."

            Yoh's brow creased.  He should have been paying more attention when Manta was giving his history lesson.  "We…uh…"

            "We'd take away their energy source."

            Yoh looked startled.  "That didn't work last time.  And their energy source now is…."  He broke off, an expression of disbelief on his face.  "Their energy source is humans."

            "So?"  Hao leaned back against the wall behind him with a look of indifference.  "It's not like we're forcing the entire species of Homo sapiens into extinction.  Only the ones plugged into the matrix."

            "There's an estimated six billion minds in there, Niichan!" said Yoh, his voice quavering momentarily in disbelief. 

            "Yeah, well, the machines are stupid.  They keep all the humans in huge, clustered spaces to harvest the energy.  I'm sure you saw it when you first awoke.  All anyone would need would be to unleash several large, well-placed EMPs to wipe out their entire energy source."

            "But…I mean…that many people…."

            Hao's face darkened.  "Slaves.  Mindless slaves to the machines; that's all they are.  Haven't you been taught anything?  Most of them are so attached, we could never hope to free them; many would fight against us side by side with the Agents.  And haven't you seen what they've done even to this virtual world?  It's filthy, irreparably tainted.  Scum.  I would not mourn for them."

            "We were once part of them," said Yoh quietly.  "Had the One come before, and not been you, we would have been killed.  What about the many others that haven't been freed yet?  Doesn't that bother you?"
            "No," said Hao, with a quick glance at his brother.  There was a frightening frankness in his voice.  "It matters little to me.  It will be a purge, and one the world has sorely needed for a long time."

            Yoh's eyes scanned his surroundings, skimming over anything but Hao.  "What about…mother?  We still have family in the matrix."

            A spasm of brief, vague emotion flickered across Hao's face and was gone.  "There is nothing I can do for them.  Even family can pose a threat in this situation.  Being the One does not mean that you will not have to make sacrifices."

            "So, had I not been freed, you would have even killed me?" asked Yoh, his voice soft.

            Hao straightened and walked toward the street end of the alley, silent.  Yoh followed his brother's footsteps, running slightly to catch up.  Hao stopped for a moment to let the distance between them lessen.  "I would have," he affirmed quietly, not looking at his brother, and then stepped into the bustle of the street before him.

*

            They stopped in front of a large, intimidating government building that loomed over them, glaring down mercilessly.  Somewhere in there, Yoh knew, was Anna.  He had no idea of her state, whether she was dying or stable, in pain or blissfully unconscious. 

            Hao did not even hesitate at the door, but strode in with a cocky confidence radiating from his entire being.  Security was surprisingly low; Yoh supposed the Agents didn't want to call attention to the place.  A couple of lazy-looking security guards sat idly by; one at a desk and the other in a nearby folding chair.

            "ID?" drawled the man behind the desk, one hand on a half-full cup of coffee.

            "Not needed," replied Hao, gliding past with almost noiseless footfalls. 

            "'ey," protested the man, "you can't just do that.  You need to…"  He stopped as the metal detector Hao had just passed under let out a shrill beeping sound.  "Stop right there!" 

            "Sorry," said Yoh quietly from behind.  There was a thud, and the guard fell forward unconscious, knocked out by the handle of the youth's wakizashi. 

            He ducked as a shot from the other guard's gun shattered the glass window behind him.  There was a short cry, and then silence; no more shots sounded.  Chancing a peek, he saw Hao waiting impatiently for him to hurry up, the second guard at his feet with a twelve-pointed shuriken half buried neatly in the middle of his forehead.  "Well?  Come on, then!"

            Yoh stared at the corpse, at the warm blood streaming from the wound.  "Did you have to kill him?"

            "It's safer," said Hao matter-of-factly.  "You killed yours, didn't you?"

            "N…no.  He's only unconscious." 

            "Then hurry," said Hao impatiently.  "We haven't got all day."

            Yoh paused.  "He's unconscious.  What can he do?"

            "Wake up and call for backup, that's what," snapped Hao.  "Are you going to kill him or not?"

            "No," said Yoh quietly.

            "Fine," said Hao, hiding poorly the disgust in his voice.  He raised his hand in one sharp motion, and Yoh saw the air warp like he had seen it do once before.  The man on the ground shuddered, his face paling suddenly, and Hao dropped his hand.  "He won't survive internal damage like that," he said with slight satisfaction.  "It's silly, how all the data has to be so organized when one is in the matrix.  Even the slightest bit of error or abnormality can cause extreme damage."

            Yoh said nothing, but averted his gaze.

            Hao gave a brief nod and turned on his heel, sweeping past the two corpses.  His brother followed, trying not to pay attention to the still shapes, but a nagging thought occurred to him.  "Niichan," he said quietly, "I thought you said you were only taking that one gun.  Where did the shuriken come from?"

            "I found it in my pocket," said Hao with nonchalance.  "Only one, but it must have fallen in when I tossed the box.  I thought I'd try using it."

            "Oh," said Yoh, hurrying to catch up with his brother. 

            They found the lobby elevator, and Yoh pushed the up button before standing back to wait beside Hao.  "I'll go first."

            "Eh?" Yoh looked at his brother.

            "I'll take this elevator, you wait for a little while, and then you come up.  Since you can't fight – much – I'll be the diversion, take on the Agents, and you go find the girl.  She's on the fourteenth floor, according to the data Ren uploaded for us."  He paused.  "You planned that, didn't you?"
            Yoh blinked at the tone of accusation.  "Planned what?"

            "You planned out how I would do the fighting while you heroically bore the damsel in distress to safety…with the opportunity to be alone for a while."

            Yoh could feel his face growing hot; what was Hao getting jealous for anyway?  "I didn't!" he protested.  "I just haven't had as much time to learn things as you have!"

            Ding!

            "Elevator's here.  See you around, little brother of mine."

            The doors slid neatly shut and took Hao away, leaving Yoh alone in the suddenly very large lobby. 

*

            Hao leaned on the railing in the back of the elevator, his eyes closed as the floors went by.  Soft, wordless, nonsensical music burbled in the background, benign and innocent. 

            The elevator slowed and Hao opened his eyes, a quiet smile flickering across his face.  The Agents were waiting.

*

            Yoh bounced ever so slightly in place, watching the numbers above the elevator doors light up sequentially.  Why was this making him so nervous?  Hao would be doing the fighting, not him, and he hardly doubted his brother's abilities. 

            11…12…14…

            Hao was on the 14th floor now; Yoh hit the "up" button once again and then cocked his head, wondering why buildings regularly skipped the 13th floor.  Not that it mattered much.

*

            The elevator doors opened into an empty and very normal-looking hallway.  Hao stepped out into it, casually glancing both ways, mentally reaching out for the data patterns that signaled the presence of Agents.  After a moment of motionlessness, he turned left and strode off.

*

            "She knows a lot," reported Jeanne matter-of-factly.  "Probably more than we had expected."

            "Good," said Marco, glancing about the pristine conference room.  "Lyserg did well…for once."

            Jeanne's eyes narrowed slightly for a moment as something stirred in the back of her mind.  "Lyserg…who was he?  Why do I feel like I know him?"  Why do I feel like I…like I…what is this feeling?

            Marco shrugged.  "All humans are alike, Agent-sama.  Don't concern yourself over them; we have more important things to attend to, more pressing issues."  He hadn't made eye contact during that small speech.

            She nodded, looking away as well so that he wouldn't see the doubt in her face.  "We must find a way to extract the codes from our captive; she seems not to be very fond of talking."

            "I'm not worried about that," said Marco, sitting down on the nearest cushioned chair.  "We have plenty of interrogation techniques.  She'll hold out less than twenty-four hours if I have anything to do with it."

            "Just to warn you, between us guys," put in Hao, plopping down on the chair next to Marco and putting his feet up on the conference table, "she's got a mean slap if you try hitting on her."

            In an instant, the barrel of Marco's gun was jammed against the side of Hao's head.  "Who are you?" he demanded.  "How did you get in here?"

            Hao grinned and pushed the gun away, fully in his element now.  "Don't you know me?"

            "I don't," answered Jeanne for the two of them, her own gun prodding the other side of Hao's head.  "You have no business to be here."

            "But Jeanne-chan," Hao said, mock-hurt in his voice, "how can you not remember me?  Just because I was dead doesn't mean you can go forgetting me."  He shrugged.  "Of course, you yourself were not an Agent at the time, but I'm sure the data has transmitted enough memory for you to at least recognize me."

            "Address her as Agent-sama or Holy Agent Jeanne," growled Marco through gritted teeth, his gun finding its way back to Hao's temple.

            "You don't remember me, either, Marco?" asked Hao plaintively, leaning back in his chair.  "Agents these days, they don't make them like they used to!"

            "It's not wise to mock something that could kill you at the blink of an eye," advised Jeanne calmly. 

            Marco frowned.  "I know you.  Hao."

            Jeanne started for a moment, the transmitted data of the Agents rearranging itself in her mind.  The enemy from a few generations ago, the one who had defied the system and begun the rebellion…this was he. 

            Hao grinned and clapped his hands together.  "So you do remember me!  Excellent!  There's no fun in having brainless opponents."

            "We aren't the Agents you knew and fought back then," replied Marco, irritation building in his voice.  "Things are different; we are stronger.  You don't stand a chance."

            "But," said Hao thoughtfully, cocking his head, "you see, I'm much stronger too." In an instant, he had kicked back the conference table and ducked out of the way in one fluid motion. 

            The Agents' guns fired simultaneously, and two bullet holes appeared in the opposing walls. 

            "Weak," chided Hao, now standing by the door.  "Just pitiful."  He wrenched the handle and disappeared into the hall.

            Wordlessly, swiftly, the Agents followed; Hao had just declared war.

To be continued…