Disclaimer: The characters from Fushigi Yuugi are the creations and property of Yuu Watase and related enterprises. The characters from Doctor Who are the property of the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC). The alien race known as the Daleks are the property of the estate of Terry Nation. I do not own them and do not make any profit from this fiction except for my own enjoyment in spending time with them.

However, all original characters in this story, as well as the plotline, DO belong to me and may not be used elsewhere without my permission.

Musical Selection: "Pax Deorum" by Enya from her CD "The Memory of Trees" copyright 1995, Warner Records UK.

Acknowledgement: I would like to warmly thank Ryuen for her very skilled beta-reading of this chapter; I couldn't have pulled if off without ya, girlfriend!

Important Warning: This chapter is rated "M" - restricted from those under age 17 - for strong adult content. Readers are cautioned that this chapter contains horror, violence, abuse, and adult sexual situations. Younger and sensitive readers are advised to avoid this chapter.

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Chapter 16. The Realm of Nightmare

He tried to focus past the pain, to find a place where he could lift his mind past its subjection to physical sensation. Blinking back the tears in his real eye, he gazed around in the dim lamplight, finally detecting subtle movement on the opposite wall. A spider, not very large, extended its forelegs with hesitant grace as it moved slowly over the stonework. He tried to imagine what it would feel like to be that spider, clinging tenaciously to the rough stonework, defying gravity…

White-hot searing pain raced like liquid fire along his nerves to explode in his head, blossoming into agonizing red fireworks. He gasped, unable to force it back, sucking in air desperately so as to keep from expelling it in a mindless scream. But it went on and on, until he knew nothing--not his identity or purpose, nothing but the need to release this agony. Yet something in him still fought for control, so instead of howling in agony, he released his pent-up breath in a hiss that was as much defiance as it was capitulation.

Suddenly, the pain stopped. Gone as if it had never been, the only evidence of its presence in the weakness of his tremblinging limbs and the cold sweat that rolled down his face.

"So you see, Maboroshi, it's as vital to know when to stop as how much to apply. You can't have the subject escaping into unconsciousness, after all." Kurayami's tone was a mockery of Magus' serious lecturing voice. She leaned in and smiled into Houjun's face. "It's essential that the subject understands that the pain will come again and again, and that for him, there is no escape."

Houjun summoned what little moisture he had in his mouth and spat at her. Kurayami smiled as she wiped the spittle from her robe, lifting the fine, diamond-edged blade so that it glittered in the dim lamplight. "It's always more amusing to have a lively subject such as this one," she went on. She ran a finger along the blood-coated edge of the blade until her finger was covered with the crimson fluid, then placed her finger in her mouth and sucked at the blood as if it were an Imperial delicacy. "And the taste of helpless defiance…is intoxicating!" She grinned, exposing her now bloody teeth.

Maboroshi shifted uncomfortably. "Kurayami-dono, you aren't going to…to…"

"To what, Maboroshi-kun?"

"Well…you said that I could have him! And he's no use to me dead!"

Kurayami sighed. "Ah, the young: so impatient and so greedy. Do you even know what you are asking for?"

She approached Houjun's shackled form, waving her tiny diamond blade near his face. Small spreading stains of blood on his clothes showed where she had plied her knife in the preceding hours. "Do you think that one as subtle as our Shouryuu is showing you his true features even now?" She smiled as Houjun's eyes widened. "Ah, yes, my dear subject--you have used deft and powerful means, but I can detect the presence of ancient magic in the mask that you now wear." She raised her blade and cut into his face at his forehead.

"Wait!" cried Maboroshi, as Houjun closed his mystical eyes in pain.

"Patience," breathed Kurayami as she dragged the scalpel edge all along the perimeter of Houjun's face, pausing near his throat but continuing the cut all the way back to his forehead, as if she were peeling an apple. She caught the edge of the flap of skin and pulled it off in one swift move, as Maboroshi cried out in involuntary horror.

Kurayami dropped the blank piece of skin before Maboroshi in contempt. "Stop whining, dear student; just look."

Maboroshi raised his eyes fearfully, expecting to see some raw, red visage of horror, but instead finding only the same features as before--the same except for the livid scar that slashed across Houjun's left eye, the pale skin crossed with tiny rivulets of blood from where Kurayami had cut a little too deeply into his real face. Maboroshi stood shocked--then began cackling nervously, approaching Houjun. He reached up a dirty finger to trace the line of the scar from Houjun's eyebrow to the bridge of his nose, cackling louder as Houjun turned his face away in disgust.

"Well, aren't you the ugly one, Mister Shouryuu-senpai! Always lording it over the rest of us, all the time hiding behind a mask, hiding the deformed freak you really are! What a joke!" Maboroshi cackled until he nearly choked, spittle flying from his mouth.

Houjun stood stiffly in his chains, his expression blank, refusing to respond to Maboroshi's taunts. Kurayami smiled at his arrogant stance. She glided up to him and pulled his head back by his silvery-blue ponytail, the hair-color spell having shattered hours before under the stress of torture.

"So have you changed your mind about wanting him, Maboroshi-kun?"

Maboroshi wiped at his mouth with the back of one hand, his breaths growing heavier. "No!" he panted. "It's a strange thing, but now I want him even more! I want to feel that scar beneath my fingers as I hold him pinned beneath me, I want to feel him writhe in pain as I take my pleasure of him--"

"Most people go through their entire lives and never get what they want." Maboroshi startled at the calm, contemptuous voice, the first words that Houjun had uttered in several hours.

Kurayami's narrow eyes creased in delight. "Still fighting, then," she cooed into his ear, yanking back on his ponytail as she drew her blade lightly across his throat, leaving a thin line of blood. "And poor Maboroshi-kun remains empty-handed."

The youth stamped his foot petulantly. "You promised me! You promised that I could have him!"

She flashed a contemptuous glance in her student's direction. "Have you learned nothing in all these weeks, Maboroshi-kun? What have I taught you about getting what you want?"

Maboroshi unconsciously straightened, as if reciting a lesson in class. "If you can't succeed by using direct methods…"

"Then use indirect methods," finished Kurayami. "Run and fetch your toy, Maboroshi; I think Shouryuu is ready to play."

Maboroshi cackled and ran off. Kurayami turned back to her captive. "Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?" she purred with false solicitude.

"Yes. Now that the children have left, you can answer a few questions."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you love to boast, and I am your captive audience."

Kurayami shrieked with laughter. "Shouryuu, you are an endless source of amusement! I will be so sorry when the time comes to kill you!"

Houjun gave an abbreviated shrug in his chains. "So you have nothing to lose by talking to me."

"Ah, such courage," Kurayami smirked. "Such fun! Very well, I shall answer your questions--and since we're dispensing with our masks…"

She reached up and pulled off her black mask. Her features were small and regular, almost what one would call beautiful--except for the dead white pallor of her skin and her narrow slitted eyes, giving her the appearance of a reptile that lived beneath the earth: secret, sunless…venomous.

That venomous smile was turned back on Houjun. "Ask away, Shouryuu-san."

"All this," he indicated his chains with his chin. "You've gone to a great deal of trouble merely for Maboroshi's pleasure."

"I've already told you, Shouryuu; the pleasure is all mine." Her teeth gleamed in the darkness.

"Still--your apprenticeship to Magus, the entire exorcism debacle--am I to believe that you expended all that effort merely for my sake?"

A raspy laugh. "Yes…and no! But then again, I suppose that you want a clear answer. Let's just say that my original purpose had to do with Magus, but I was pleasantly diverted when I met you. I hadn't expected that deluded fool to have found a real magician, one whose abilities rival my own."

"You flatter me," murmured Houjun politely. Kurayami dipped her head in mocking acknowledgement of the compliment as Houjun went on. "But why?"

"Let's just say Magus has precipitated some events that have caused concern in…certain circles. It was my task to stop him, while at the same time learning as much about his startling abilities as I could. It wasn't until I discovered your existence that I realized how easy it was to achieve both goals. I didn't need to kill Magus to ruin his plans; I merely needed to render you useless to him."

"But the exorcism achieved all that, and yet you brought me back here. Risky, wasn't it?"

The pointed teeth gleamed once more. "I enjoy risk; it lightens the tedium of my long existence. Not to mention that you can't hope to convince me that you were leaving here forever. I suspected that you were preparing for the great moral confrontation with us both." She laughed again. "Don't look so startled! I didn't need to spy upon your plans or read your ki; you humans are so predictable!"

"You humans?"

"Good for you, Shouryuu," Kurayami purred. "Not much escapes your notice. But you must ponder on my slip of the tongue without my help, for Maboroshi has returned for the games."

Maboroshi had returned, breathless from his rapid run and holding something in a pocket of his robe. He stopped short at the sight of Kurayami's unmasked features.

She laughed once again. "Don't drop your toy, Maboroshi, for I won't get you another one." Her eyes flashed with amusement. "Why not join Shouryuu and me in our…disrobing? Masks are not required at this intimate gathering."

Maboroshi pulled at his mask, excited by Kurayami's words. Once his face was revealed, Houjun was a little startled to see that he was a handsome youth with fine, chiseled features, looking like a slightly older version of Kishuku. But his large eyes were green, not grey, and they shone with nervous instability. That, and his continuous breathless cackle, ruined the effect of his natural beauty.

He withdrew his hand from his pocket, showing something to Kurayami. Houjun strained to see what it was, but the restraint of his bonds and the dimness of the lighting only permitted him to make out something small that gleamed within a slightly larger receptacle.

"Perfect," approved Kurayami. She picked up a large incense burner, filling it with strange herbs and approaching Houjun. She smiled up into his eyes and traced a pointed finger along his face in mockery of a lover's caress. "It's time," she murmured.

"For what?" He turned his face away from her caress.

"Time to break you."

Houjun gazed up into the darkness at the ceiling, his voice soft, almost dreamy. "You may kill me, but it will take more than you have to break me."

Kurayami smiled her reptilian smile as she lit the incense burner, holding it so that its smoke drifted into Houjun's face. "There is always some way to break anyone, Shouryuu." She gestured Maboroshi to move forward.

He fought the dizziness brought on by the hallucinogenic herbs. However, there was a new effect, a drifting darkness that seemed to be issuing from the gleaming object that Maboroshi held high in the palm of his hand. Houjun struggled to resist but felt himself falling helplessly into the encroaching darkness. The last thing he heard was Kurayami's voice, raspy with amusement, sounding as if she spoke from a great distance.

"You only have to dig deep enough."

****

The Doctor stood among stone walls decorated with rich tapestries, his feet sinking into the thick oriental carpet, and struggled to keep his nonplussed state of mind from showing on his face. Magus waved him politely to the brocaded seat before his intricately carved mahogany desk and dismissed the student who had captured him, murmuring reassurances that he had been expecting the stranger. Moving around to his own high-backed seat, he rested his chin on steepled fingers and contemplated the Doctor, the glittering eyes behind the mask fixed unwaveringly on his guest.

The Doctor shifted and cleared his throat. "Lovely place you have here." He reached forward and gently touched an oscillating structure of crystal and gold. "Very nice astral chronometer. No time lord should be without one."

Teeth gleamed beneath the black mask. "Showing your hand so soon, Doctor? You're supposed to play stupid for at least a few rounds."

The Doctor shrugged, leaning nonchalantly back in his chair. "Seems pointless under the circumstances. After all, you seem to know me," his tone sharpened, "although I'm quite certain that we've never met before."

"We haven't. Although one needn't know you personally to know of you."

"Strange. I feel certain that most records of my existence have been expunged from the official archives of Gallifrey."

"Ah, yes--but there is much to be found in the, er, unofficial archives, especially if one is inclined to dig deeper than the brief biography given for one of the Ex-Presidents."

The Doctor placed his hands up to his temples. "Oh, dear Rassilon, don't tell me--not another Gallifreyan fanboy!"

Magus laughed out loud, a rich, deep laugh filled with genuine amusement. "No, Doctor, never fear! I haven't reconfigured my TARDIS to look like an old Type Forty with the shell of an obscure police box from ancient Earth!" His smile changed, his eyes darkening in memory. "However, there was a time when that appellation might have suited me very well. But that time is long past, and I no longer hold you in such high esteem."

"Somehow, that statement doesn't provoke the sense of relief it ought. Of course, I believe that was your intention."

Magus' teeth gleamed once again. "It's oddly refreshing to joust with you in person, Doctor; this new regeneration seems much more upfront than the last one." He held his hand out to his side, indicating a much shorter height. "That one was much more the slippery manipulator. But he must not have been quite as invincible as he seemed, for…here you are."

"Yes, here I am. No one is invincible, and one may die for no particular reason as easily as for a noble cause. However," the Doctor's eyes narrowed keenly, "these revelations do tell me something. In my last incarnation, I was known to perform certain deeds that occasionally inspired feelings of resentment."

"Feelings of resentment," Magus repeated thoughtfully. "Yes, that's one way of putting it." He focused on the Doctor once more. "However, whether you believe me or not, my issues with you had very little to do with my mission here--until you showed up in person to throw a wrench into my plans. It's that sort of strange coincidence that makes one almost believe in Fate. Almost."

"So, this mission…"

"No need for such delicacy, Doctor; I know the script. You ask seemingly feckless questions and fool me into revealing my purpose, you then escape my custody and spend much time running up and down dark corridors, you finish by destroying my carefully conceived plans, lecturing me as I am 'hoist by my own petard,' and finally you ride off into the sunset with your companions after a nice, hot cup of tea."

"You make it sound so dreary and predictable," complained the Doctor. "And yet I find it amusing."

"Amusing." Magus' voice had suddenly turned cold. "Yes, you do, don't you? You live for your own amusement, never considering the consequences of your actions, never once--!" He stopped, suddenly aware of the Doctor's sharp, keen gaze. He snorted in disbelief. "You are good, I'll grant you that. Here I am, perfectly aware of all your tricks and stratagems, and still you manage to maneuver me into revealing more than I intended." He rose from his desk and stalked around to glare down at the Doctor. "Since I know all the moves of the game, let's bypass the tedious opening gambits and proceed directly to the goal. You wish to know my purpose, I wish to shake you out of your calm sense of superiority, and we both want to get to the hard bargaining that is the obvious point of your presence in my domain. So get up, Doctor, we're going on a tour."

The Doctor rose gracefully out of the depths of the brocaded chair, stretched, and fixed his grim guide with the delighted smile of a child promised a trip to the sweetshop. "You know," he confided to Magus, "there's something oddly enjoyable about cutting to the chase."

Magus sighed. "To add to your enjoyment, Doctor, I can promise you a multitude of corridors to traverse on our way."

****

The Doctor stared down into the huge vaulted chamber from the entryway set high in the wall. It had been a fair jaunt to this hidden place, accessible only through the locked and dusty staircase winding through the farthest tower in the school. The Doctor judged that most of the chamber below had been carved out of the bones of the hill situated nearest to the compound. At Magus' nod, he began to descend the floating staircase, wincing at the heavy boom of the solid alloy door as it closed firmly behind them.

He strolled through the complex array of crystal cones suspended high above a wide empty space, tracing their fine silver-optic lines to a fantastical arrangement of cut crystalline gems, their glittering points all aimed carefully at a raised dais. Standing on the dais was a crossed structure with various silken threads trailing outward. The Doctor reached up a hand to touch the silk-covered iron resin loops suspended from each end of the cross tie and the single loop with branching electrodes that rested near the top of the structure. His eyes darkened as he correctly deduced their function: they were restraints; silk-lined, comfortable, but near-impossible to break.

He fought down his anger, assuming a deceptively mild tone as he turned to face Magus' obsidian mask. "So…what's it all for?"

Magus sighed, gently wiping away a thin layer of dust from a complex glass instrument that stood a short distance from the dais. "I thought we had agreed that it was a waste of time for you to play the fool, Doctor."

"I'm not playing the fool. I can see that you have a system set up to collect and concentrate some energy source, and judging from the opposing arrangement of the stereoisomers of metahydrite crystals, I deduce that it is some form of psychic wave energy. But why do you funnel the collection lines to this one area," he indicated the dais, "and why," the Doctor's voice grew very cold, "why do you require restraints fixed in an arrangement suitable for imprisoning a human?"

Magus smiled grimly as he adjusted a solar energy sink. "'Imprison' is such a harsh word, Doctor. I prefer the term 'support.'"

"You didn't answer my question."

"True, and we had agreed to dispense with pointless jousting, hadn't we? Very well, Doctor, listen carefully. You are correct: this arrangement permits me to harness and focus the psychic energies of the students of my school, who will stand here," he indicated the open space beneath the crystal cones, "and send those energies to be tightly concentrated by my psychic prism into a beam of dimension-crossing force."

"I'm going to set aside the question of your 'psychic prism' for now to ask once again: For what purpose?"

"To send a signal."

The Doctor snorted in contempt. "You don't need this complex arrangement to send a signal! Even if you were stranded, the relatively simple technology of your cloaking device could be converted to send a signal across the galaxy."

"You're not listening, Doctor. I had mentioned the necessity of crossing dimensions."

The Doctor felt a sudden chill at the grim purpose in Magus' voice. "What signal were you planning to send?"

"I think the question you want to ask is to whom am I sending it? The answer to both questions is this: my intention is to send an invitation, a psychic lure if you will, to draw a certain species to this world. They will believe that they have found a rich concentration of psychic energy, a veritable feast for them--but of course, all that they will find is the springing of my trap."

"What species…and why?"

"You have encountered them in your recent past, Doctor; your previous incarnation, if I am correct. They are not well known in this dimension, which is a blessing to sentient life across this galaxy, but they are a terror and a scourge to the few remaining survivors in their own realm. They are creatures of nightmare and death, whom you have referred to simply as 'The Swarm.'"

The Doctor went dead white. "You're insane! Why in the name of all reason would you want to bring such a deadly race here, to this dimension? When they accidentally crossed over into one of the outpost worlds of this galaxy, it took everything I had to divert them and trick them back into their home dimension."

Magus stared at the Doctor, his glittering gaze even colder than usual, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. "Ah, yes, Doctor," he hissed. "I know all about that little adventure of yours. It took me some time to gather the facts, but once I did, I found them to be very enlightening."

"If so, then you must know how close this galaxy came to utter disaster! Imagine the carnage they would have wrought among every populated world, absorbing those with psychic abilities and decimating the rest!"

"I don't need my imagination, Doctor." Magus' voice had dropped to an icy whisper. "I don't need to project or deduce to understand the kind of destruction this psychic parasite can wreak. Pure, distilled evil: if ever there was a species that deserved annihilation, this is the one!"

The Doctor scowled. "True, they pose a genuine threat to most intelligent species, but they also possess sentience, although they are subject to the "group mind" in colony form. It's a type of intelligence that we cannot relate easily to, but does that give you the right to decide upon their eradication?"

"Right?" Magus laughed bitterly. "Oh yes, I have the right, Doctor--the same right that you had to pass similar judgment on the Daleks!"

The Doctor flushed. "I didn't pull the Daleks out of their own dimension to fall into one of my traps. I did everything in my power to stop them without annihilating them, until--"

"Until one day, you had had enough," finished Magus. "I can relate to that mindset, Doctor. I'm no different than you in having a certain breaking point."

"This isn't about personal breaking points. You must stop this insanity, Magus; regardless of what plan you may have conceived, the terrible risk of bringing the Swarm into this dimension outweighs any possible benefit. Have you any idea of the horrifying consequences should you fail? The very fabric of space-time itself could be damaged!"

"I won't fail, Doctor; at least, not if you cease your incessant meddling in my affairs. Not to mention that you're being overly dramatic in your dire predictions. In the worst case, even if I did fail, this place is just a tiny pocket dimension off the Greater Galaxy. That is why I chose it for my trap; the consequences to its loss would be negligible."

"You really don't know, do you?" The Doctor's voice trembled with disbelief. "You have no idea of how close to the edge you propose to bring us! You utter fool, don't you realize what is just one slight shift in dimensional geography away? Didn't the human population of this world clue you in? Earth is just on the other side of this world, separated by only a thin dimensional veil!"

"Earth?" Now it was Magus' turn to be shocked. "The proscribed planet?"

"Yes, the proscribed planet, the delicate nexus of most of galactic history! If the High Council happens to get wind of your plans, they would wipe out the entire ShiJinTenChiSho as a precautionary measure, not to mention unweaving your genetic code from the Loom. Even your ancestors would cease to exist."

Magus straightened under the force of the Doctor's wrath. "Do you think that it matters to me, my own existence? If it did, would I have chosen this path, this mission to destroy the most evil race the universe has ever known? You underestimate me, Doctor. In any case, the wheels are already in motion; pulses of psychic energy have already been sent into the home dimension of the Swarm. All that you have done is let me know that the stakes are higher than I originally thought. The possibility of failure cannot be allowed."

The Doctor exploded. "You fool! You blind, ignorant, egomaniacal fool! Do you have any idea of what you've done?"

"You know," Magus remarked calmly, "those insults might sting coming from anyone else, but considering the source, they only inspire irony. Are you jealous, Doctor? Am I intruding into your territory? Have my actions threatened your heretofore unchallenged supremacy as the Great Galactic Manipulator?"

The Doctor tore at his hair in frustration. "Threatened? Of course I'm threatened--I and every other sentient being in this corner of the galaxy!" He spun on his heels and strode up to Magus, pointing an accusing finger in his face. "Do you imagine that you're capable of manipulating galactic history?! You're nothing but a child: a willful, reckless child playing with time-shattering events as if they were spillikins! Inexperienced, rash, myopic; you don't even have the wits to realize your incalculable blunders!"

Magus' anger was finally aroused. His eyes flashed behind the black mask. "Blunders, are they? The only blunders that have occurred are your disastrous forays in meddling! You couldn't leave well enough alone, you had to interfere with my ultimate weapon!"

"I assume that you are referring to Ri Houjun." Now the Doctor's voice held an icy chill. "It's a funny thing, but I see him as a sensitive young man as opposed to a weapon of mass destruction."

Magus met his accusing gaze without flinching. "Shouryuu's abilities place him far above any ordinary young man. Talents such as his confer great responsibility, responsibility beyond all personal considerations."

"Oh yes?" The Doctor's tone was quietly dangerous. "What are you trying to say? What are the odds of his survival upon being deployed as 'the ultimate weapon?'"

"Very small, almost nonexistent." Magus' tones were matter-of-fact. "In the war against evil, there are always necessary sacrifices."

"Ne-ces-sar-y sac-ri-fi-ces," the Doctor hissed through gritted teeth. "How you narcissistic power-wielders love to use that phrase! I don't see you offering yourself up as a 'necessary sacrifice,' however!"

"I would if I could, Doctor." Magus dropped his defenses, speaking honestly. "I've tried to focus the power myself, believe me. But unfortunately, the distillation of the psychic wave energies seems to require the presence of the human nucleic acid/amino acid interface…and I can't claim to possess that."

"'He who fights with monsters…'" whispered the Doctor. "How does it feel to become that which you loathe, Magus? How does your planned destruction of Houjun's life compare with the modus operandi of your enemy?"

Magus' only show of emotion was a slight tightening of his jaw. "The difference lies in free will, Doctor. Ri Houjun agreed to give his life in the battle against evil when he first joined up with me. I cautioned him that it had to be a choice from the heart."

"What if he's changed his mind? What if he's found something worth living for?"

"Then he will have to make his choice against the fate of millions. Bring him here, Doctor, and let him speak for himself."

The Doctor grew very pale. "What do you mean? I came here to get him back from you! Your confederates kidnapped him three days ago."

Magus stiffened in shock. "That can't be true; I know nothing of his presence here! They must have blocked his ki."

The Doctor let out a roar of frustration. "How can you be so bloody incompetent? By all the gods of this universe and the next, how can you not know what your own accomplices are up to? Rassilon only knows what they have been doing to him!" He leaped at Magus and grabbed his arm. "You had better have some idea as to where they have hidden him, and you had better be ready to run!"

****

He awoke to the dull thunder of rushing water. Pushing to his feet, he shivered in the light rain as he looked around in disbelief. He was standing on a knoll beneath a low ceiling of churning grey clouds, skeletal branches of trees clawing at the sky while black leaves swirled in tiny demonic dances. Gusts of chill, damp wind whipped his hair into his face, making his left eye ache vaguely with some forgotten pain.

All around the knoll, muddy grey water flowed sluggishly past clods of swollen earth on its way back to its source: the river that roared distantly behind him like a ravening beast returning reluctantly to its lair. He was suddenly filled with a sense of urgency and dread, and he plunged off the knoll, slogging through the receding flood toward dark shapes that rose in the distance. He felt the mud sucking greedily at his feet, as if the ground itself wanted to swallow him into its murky yaw. Yet he fought on, time passing in some meaningless, measureless way until he found himself standing before the rain-blackened houses of his hometown.

The reek of the flood filled his nostrils, the smell of dead fish and vegetation mixed with the stench of cesspits. He pushed open doors as he stumbled through the town, calling the names of families he remembered but receiving no answer. The streets twisted and turned in strange mazes until he was unsure of which direction he was facing. Yet something drove him to keep going, keep seeking…

He stopped short at the end of one street as the reek in the air grew and changed into the sickly sweet stench of decaying flesh, a smell that wrenched at his gut, making him retch. There before him was a mound of dark shapes, the occasional splayed hand or crooked leg revealing the bodies that made up this grim offering to the supremacy of nature over frail human flesh. He backed hastily away, turning to run down another unfamiliar twisting street in his endless, urgent search.

That path also led to another pile of bodies, the reeking miasma of rotting flesh almost palpable in the twisting mists in the air. He backed away, gagging, growing frantic with the need to find some way through to his destination. He plunged back into the maze of streets, straining to see through the rising mists, straining to find his way…back home.

Yet another mound of bodies waited at the end of this street. He paused to look behind, trying to choose a street that he hadn't yet walked. At that moment, the wind shifted, its high-pitched whistle changing to a low, throbbing moan, like the mournful call of an ancient horn. He sensed movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his glance back up the street.

Something in the mound of bodies was shifting, moving, jerkily extending a swollen, greyish limb as it fought to get free. Terror seized him as he realized that whatever it was, it wasn't alive. He turned and fled, frantically choosing another street, running toward the grey light at the end…only to encounter another heaving pile of decaying bodies, the mound pulsing with the mindless efforts of whatever obscenity struggled to erupt from its prison of flesh. He choked back a scream and ran--

And ran and ran, dodging dark shambling shapes in the distance, gasping for air while gagging on the stench, searching, searching

There it was, appearing suddenly out of the white mists: the familiar lines of his own front door. He ran up onto his veranda and paused, closing his eyes as he breathed deeply in relief…until he heard a slight creak. The door was opening from the inside, inching away from him in small increments as a stream of water began flowing out over his sandals. The murky stream flowed faster, carrying small shapes to be stranded wriggling on the wooden slats of the veranda; dark fingerlike shapes of leeches contrasted by the pale, swollen bodies of maggots, and all the while the rising, nauseating stench flowed out as thickly as the water.

Suddenly he knew that he could not bear to see whatever was pulling open the door of his house. He yearned to scream and run away, but he was frozen in place, eyes wide, waiting with hopeless horror mixed with grief, choking on the foul effluvium as the door swung ever wider…

"Houjun!" The shout echoed in the distance, snapping him out of his terror-stricken immobility. "Houjun, over here!" Houjun wrenched his gaze away from the door and stumbled off the veranda. At the end of the street, a familiar figure waved emphatically, summoning him to his side. "Houjun, hurry!"

"Hikou!" He ran towards his best friend, keeping his eyes fixed on the beloved figure, shutting his ears to the rattling, ghostly echo of his name whispered from something that stood behind him in the doorway. As he dashed up to Hikou, his friend tossed him one of two long poles in his grasp. Houjun caught it, gasping in relief. "Thank the gods, Hikou; I thought that there was no one left alive in town!"

"There won't be, if we don't get our asses out of here! Damn, can you move any slower, ahou?" Hikou flashed a cocky grin, his sparkling eyes signaling his excitement at their predicament. Houjun couldn't help grinning back at him; no matter what trouble they became embroiled in, Hikou always turned it into a marvelous adventure.

Houjun's grin faltered as a thought struck him. "Hikou--what about my mother and Kouran?"

"Safe across the river. Good thing they're smarter than you, baka--Get down!"

Houjun dropped obediently as Hikou swung his pole over his head, hitting something with a solid, squelching thunk. Houjun looked back in horror at the corpse that lay just behind him, broken almost in half by Hikou's powerful blow. He barely had time to take in the sight of the rotting, water-swollen flesh before Hikou grabbed his shoulder. "Come ON!"

All around them, shambling greyish shapes with empty eyes reached out to grasp jerkily at the two young men. Hikou fought like a demon, whirling and jabbing with his jou stick, whacking off arms and heads while shouting in triumph. Houjun was caught up in his friend's high spirits, spinning and striking dead flesh with his jou, kicking out without pausing to consider the horrors they were fighting. He followed Hikou as they fought past one group of reanimated corpses after another, making their way inexorably to the outskirts of the accursed town.

The roar of the river grew loud in their ears as they put a safe distance between themselves and the endless, palsied procession of corpses stumbling through the mud. Hikou dropped his jou and grabbed Houjun's arm, pulling him towards the swollen river. "Come on! We have to get to the other side!"

Houjun stared in disbelief at the thundering rapids. "You're insane! We'll be swept away before we get even halfway across--there has to be another way!"

"There's no time!" shouted Hikou, his glittering eyes and circlet reflecting the lightning that had begun to cross the sky in long, jagged streaks. "They'll kill us if we stay!" His hand tightened on Houjun's forearm as he tried to drag him forward.

Houjun pulled back. "It's suicide to go in there!" he shouted above the rising howl of the wind.

"It's suicide to wait! Look!"

Houjun turned back to see dark shapes staggering towards them through the rain. He felt Hikou's grasp tighten, his fingers sharp against his arm as they pulled at him. He put his hand on Hikou's to loosen his grip--and felt the cold hardness of bare bones in his grasp. His eyes flashed up to Hikou's face, only to see the empty eye sockets and fixed grin of a skull staring back at him beneath the lank, dripping hair of his friend.

Houjun screamed as the skeleton wearing Hikou's circlet pulled him into the water. "Come on, Houjun!" the thing laughed. "Into the river with me! We'll be together; best friends together forever!"

"No!" shrieked Houjun, struggling wildly as the skeleton dragged him deeper into the churning waters. He fell to his knees under the force of the water, almost losing his grip on his jou stick.

His jou stick. He raised the stick in the air and slashed down on the skeletal arm, screaming his horror with every blow.

"Stop it!" howled the thing that had been Hikou as its bones shattered under the impact of the jou. "Don't let me go, Houjun! Don't let the river take me!"

He sobbed but continued to smash the bony arm dragging at him until at last it broke apart. The thing shrieked as it was dragged under, disappearing into the murky depths. Houjun pulled himself up onto the muddy bank and crawled back from the river. He curled up into a wet, miserable huddle, burying his face in his knees and sobbing, his left eye aching as he wept for all he had lost once again.

He kept his face buried, ignoring the passage of time as he cried, ignoring the dying of the wind and the rain and the feeble sunlight as it reached out weak rays to hesitantly touch the devastated landscape. However, he couldn't ignore the sweet scent that wafted to him on the suddenly gentle breeze: the scent of sun-warmed fields of wildflowers, the scent that he would forever associate with only one woman.

He lifted his face from his huddle and tried to focus his tear-blurred vision on the slight figure that cast a shadow across him.

"Kouran?"

****

Kouran stooped before Houjun, her beautiful hazel eyes filling with sympathetic tears. "Houjun," she murmured, brushing his cheek with her soft fingers, "what happened to you?"

His expression crumpled. "I killed him," he choked. "I killed Hikou! I didn't want to, but--"

"It's all right," Kouran said soothingly. "I know…I understand. The important thing is that you're safe, and that we're together."

"But I thought you loved him!"

Kouran looked confused. "Aren't we betrothed to one another?"

"You broke off our betrothal. You said it was because of Hikou." Houjun fought to keep the note of accusation from his voice.

The line between Kouran's brows disappeared. "I didn't mean it," she stammered. "I only said that because…because of the argument we had that day."

Houjun shook his head in confusion. "But we never argued."

"What does it matter?" Kouran's lovely voice held a note of desperation. "Don't you believe that I love you?"

Houjun's heart leapt up in joy; it was like a dream come true, hearing those words from her lips. He closed his eyes momentarily to bask in the warmth of her love once more. His immobility must have alarmed Kouran, however, for she drew close and lay her head against his chest.

"Houjun, don't you love me anymore? Don't you remember?"

"Of course I love you!" He stroked her long sable-brown locks with trembling hands. "I never stopped loving you. I thought it was you who no longer loved me."

She looked up into his face, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Then show me that you love me. Come with me, as you did that day…"

"That day in the woods," Houjun finished, his voice soft and passionate. Yet even as desire flared up, something troubled him, so that he held back under the gentle pull of her hand. "Kouran, it's not safe here! The village--the river--"

"The storm is over." Her voice was soft and reassuring. "Can't you see it, Houjun? It's a new world: a world just for us."

He looked up to see that her words were true. The sun shone gently on the reviving landscape. The mud had hardened into solid earth, tiny green shoots thrusting through to spread verdant life across the fields, while the river had retreated out of sight beneath its banks, its former roar fading to a murmur. The trees swayed gently in the light breeze, their new leaves a vibrant green against the blue of the vaulted sky.

And Kouran…Kouran grasped him by the hand as she pulled him towards the woods, her eyes laughing into his, her silken locks escaping from the pins of her hairdo to brush softly against her cheekbones. Passion flared once again in him, lifting him up in the exhilarating flight of his senses, so that he caught her in his arms when they had barely reached the shelter of the overhanging canopy.

Her green-brown eyes darkened with her own passion, and she sought his lips as eagerly as he sought hers, her tongue thrusting strongly into his mouth. Houjun drew back a little in surprise at her aggressiveness.

"Wait," he murmured.

"No!" she protested, melding her body to his seductively. " Take me, Houjun; make me yours forever!" She writhed against him. "I can feel that you want me, so why do you wait?"

Houjun lost himself in the pleasure of the friction of their bodies. "I only want…" he gasped, "I only want to take this a little slower." He caught her face gently between his hands and stared deeply into her beautiful eyes. "I don't want to miss a single moment of this."

He lowered his mouth slowly to hers, brushing her lips with the gentlest of feathery kisses. Her eyes fell closed as he deepened the kiss, gradually touching her tongue with his. She opened eagerly for him, but he held back, teasing her, catching her in the sweet pain of anticipation. She moaned softly but yielded, waiting patiently until he took firm possession of her mouth, asserting his dominion over her and her senses.

They finally had to break apart, and Houjun took advantage of their brief distance to rain soft kisses down her neck and throat, inhaling her delicate, flowery scent. Kouran moaned deep in her throat and pulled his head into her breast.

Houjun pulled back again. "No, don't rush it," he commanded, amusement and passion vying with one another in his tones. "Let yourself feel--everything!"

"I feel it!" she gasped, pulling on the toggle tie at her collar. "Please!" she begged, and he laughed, a rich laugh ringing with triumph, with the knowledge that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

She growled in frustration at his control of her and yanked her shirt open, exposing her small, perfect breasts, making his laugh die in his throat. "Now!" she commanded, wresting control from him.

He groaned and seized her lips again, pressing his hardness against her and gently running his fingers over her breasts. Yet in the midst of his ecstasy, he was brought up short by a sudden sense of wrongness. A chill breeze blew across the back of his neck, making the tiny hairs stand up. He pulled back from Kouran to look up at the grey clouds that were rapidly gathering overhead. The breeze stiffened, tearing the young leaves from the trees, leaving twisted, blackened branches naked as they swayed in the darkening sky.

"What's wrong? Why did you stop?" Kouran's voice was thick with frustration.

"The clouds--I think the storm's coming back."

"No, it's not," she protested, pulling his mouth down to hers once more.

Houjun tried to lose himself in her but was distracted yet again when a flock of ravens suddenly burst from a nearby stand of trees. They circled overhead, swooping and riding the quickening air currents, cawing in mournful, ominous cries.

"Now what?"

"The birds--the ravens!"

"There are no birds." Kouran's eyes were bright and desperate. "Houjun, I'm beginning to feel that you don't want me!"

"Of course I want you!" Houjun drew her close, trying to reassure her while anxiously scanning the darkening skies.

"Then prove it!" Kouran pushed back from him and pulled his shirt up.

He gasped at the contact of her cold hands with his skin but soon gave into the pleasure of her caresses, slightly roughened by her impatience with him. He rebuked himself briefly for his unflattering distraction…then gasped again as she ran her hands sensuously down his sides, sliding into his trousers and stroking briefly at his hips before moving down and grasping his arousal firmly.

He let out his breath in a whoosh, closing his eyes and forgetting about anything else in the world but her desire for him, a desire that drove him into heights of dizzying pleasure. He grasped her shoulders and pulled her closer, groaning as her stroking hands drew an involuntary thrust of his hips.

She groaned in response, stoking his passion, exploring his body intimately, excitedly. Houjun buried his face in her hair, fighting the growing ecstasy, trying to find the willpower to stop her before it was too late, when suddenly--

The sense of wrongness crashed over him like a breaking wave. He jerked his face out of her hair, trying to find what it was that was shouting warnings into his subconscious mind. He stared up into a sky thick with roiling clouds and spinning circles of carrion birds. Carrion birds--that's what was assaulting his senses, the sickening, penetrating reek of decay. It crawled into his lungs, gagging him, choking him.

"What's wrong now?" Kouran's voice was muffled against his shoulder, yet he could hear the tears of frustration in her tones. Needing to explain his growing dread to her, he pushed back to look into her eyes--

And screamed. Screamed uncontrollably, screamed without restraint, screamed until he thought his lungs would burst, for what he held in his arms was the bloated corpse of a drowned woman. Her filmy, staring eyes widened as she shouted some query at him, but he couldn't hear her above his screams: screams of horror at the sight of her puffy greyish skin, at the feel of his fingers sinking into her spongy flesh, at the feel of her cold, dead hands grasping at his body, at an arousal gone limp in the face of his terror and revulsion.

He finally had to stop screaming long enough to draw in a sobbing breath, and her words became audible. "What's wrong?" she cried in a sickening, burbling voice, her puffy pale lips splitting from the movement, oozing ichor to run down her chin. She moved her rotting hands up his body, grasping his neck with surprising strength and forcing his head down to hers, pressing those oozing lips to his while he grew dizzy with revulsion at the cold slide of the dripping liquor of decay. He struggled wildly and moaned as he tried to keep his mouth shut against the spongy, swollen tongue that probed his lips, but he couldn't help gagging and retching at the penetrating reek of corruption that filled his nostrils, its syrupy-sweet stench crawling through him until it filled all of his senses. Just when he thought that he couldn't take anymore, he felt something move beneath the dead lips pressed against his, something that wriggled in its struggle to get free from the rotting flesh that confined it--and he shoved her back with surprising force, his screams pealing out one after another as his mind splintered from the horror.

"What's wrong?" Kouran cried again, but she was looking past him, out into the darkness that was encroaching upon them. "What are you doing? Why are you ruining this for me? He was mine to have!"

She grasped at Houjun again, and his screams redoubled at the sight of the maggots erupting from her splitting flesh to land cold and writhing on his own skin. For some reason, he was pinned in place, but he desperately turned his face away from her into the darkness, dimly registering a raspy, mocking laugh that echoed through the raven-choked skies like the Voice of Hell itself. He howled out his agony, grief, and guilt, knowing that it washis fault that Kouran had turned into this nightmare creature, for he had abandoned her to the waters of the flood. He sobbed out a prayer to the gods for the merciful oblivion of madness or death, for any escape from the unbearable horror of this existence.

At that moment, a golden halo of light swam into his tear-blurred sight, the figure standing within the glow becoming clearer as it parted the darkness. The figure of someone he dimly recognized even in his terror-stricken madness, her short hair in wild unruly waves, her features contorted in rage as she glared at Kouran clinging to Houjun.

"Take your filthy hands off what doesn't belong to you!"

****

The figure of Kouran stepped back from Houjun, startled by the murderous rage in Joss' voice. Houjun stopped screaming when she finally let go of him, and he now hung in his manacles, sobbing brokenly, his eyes wild and unfocused.

"Now release him!" Joss pointed Houjun's ash staff threateningly at Kouran.

"I think not," rasped a venomous, androgynous voice. Kurayami glided forward from the shadows on the far side of the room, her narrow yellow irises glinting in the light of Joss' torch.

"So the Bitch-Queen finally decided to show her ugly face!" snarled Joss.

Kurayami's lips curved in amusement, her pink mouth a lurid slash against the dead white skin of her face. "You're hardly one to make judgments on personal beauty, considering the features you are burdened with."

"Hey, I'm goddamn Helen of Troy compared to you and the escapee from Krazy Kaplan's House of Halloween Horrors!" retorted Joss, waving her torch at Kouran's obscene features. She wrinkled her nose at the corpse-woman. "A friendly piece of advice: if you want to get a man, you'd better do something about that atrocious body odor."

Kouran lifted a hand to her face and gasped in horror, her cloudy, dead eyes managing to shoot a look of reproach at Kurayami.

Kurayami ignored her, fixing her snakelike eyes on Joss. "So, Shouryuu's little playmate. How very devoted of you to come here--devoted and utterly stupid. Of course, it may have been your intention to free your lover," Kouran looked startled, then shot a resentful glare at Joss while Kurayami continued, "but I have a better idea. It would be very amusing if you joined him in his entertainment."

Joss kept her eyes on Kurayami as she carefully lowered the torch to a nearby stone slab. "Big talk, bitch, but you've forgotten something. First you have to get past me…and Shouryuu's magician's staff." She rotated the ash staff slowly as she spoke, never taking her eyes off Kurayami's face.

Kurayami snorted in contempt. "A stupid piece of wood! The only reason that you're not dead where you stand is that I'm saving you for a special treat. How do you think Shouryuu would feel about seeing you eviscerated alive before his very eyes…oops, eye, singular!" Her small, pointed teeth gleamed in her vicious smile.

Joss shrugged in a bored fashion, increasing the speed of the staff's rotations. "Like I said, big talk from such a tiny brain." Her voice changed to a mocking tone. "You're the stupid one! Did it ever occur to you that the reason you overcame Shouryuu so easily was that he stored most of his powers in this 'stupid piece of wood?'"

Kurayami's gaze flicked to the rapidly rotating staff. Her snake eyes narrowed further as she sneered at Joss. "Highly unlikely--and even if that were true, you're no magician. You wouldn't know how to wield such power."

"Could be," Joss agreed as she spun the staff in a figure-eight around her head and upper body, advancing slowly on Kurayami and making the smaller woman retreat unconsciously. "Could be that you're right--and could be that you're wrong. Could be that this staff has so much power in it that it can wield itself. Could be that you'll find out--when you're dead!"

At that moment, Joss stumbled slightly and nearly dropped the staff, ruining her dramatic effect.

Kurayami laughed out loud at her opponent's clumsiness. "Could be thatyou'll be the dead one, you pathetic oaf!"

At that, Joss lunged at her but tripped and fell forward over the cauldron of herbs in her path. Kurayami shrieked with laughter--as Joss continued to plunge headfirst towards the floor, tucking her head at the last moment and rolling off her shoulders in two rapid forward rolls, then swinging the staff up in a powerful arc and connecting solidly with the side of Kurayami's skull.

The female magician dropped like a stone, her yellow eyes rolling up into her head in unconsciousness. The stench of decay vanished from the room, and Joss rolled to her feet, standing over the crumpled figure of Kurayami with a smirk of triumph.

"Then again, bitch--could be that all this staff needs to be is just another big stick!"

****

"Teme!"

Joss looked across the room at the rage-darkened features of Maboroshi, where he stood next to Houjun in Kouran's place. She sighed wearily. "You're not really gonna pitch another hissy fit, are you? 'Cause although your appearance has changed for the better, I'm still not real happy with you, body odor reduction or not. Why not admit that you've lost, and slink off to whatever hole in the ground you came out of?" Her voice sharpened with menace as she gestured at the figure of Houjun hanging quietly in his chains, his head bowed and his face hidden by his hair. "But before you go, let him out of the goddamn manacles!"

"Laughing at me!" snarled Maboroshi. "Standing there all superior, thinking that he belongs to you!" His green-yellow eyes glittered with rage and with madness born of frustration. "You're not worthy of him, you bitch! It wasme that he wanted, me that he was kissing, me that he was making love to!"

Joss' temper rose to meet his. "I got news for you, Delusion-Boy! If he had known it was you, he wouldn't have touched you on a bet. If he could've seen through your illusion, he would have thrown your ass away from him." She saw Maboroshi's eyes flash and realized that she had hit home. "And I'll bet that he did just that, didn't he? Didn't he reject your sorry ass when you tried to put moves on him in your own form?"

"Shut up!" screamed Maboroshi. "Shut your fucking mouth! You're jealous because I got farther with him than you ever will!"

"Maybe, but only as long as you wore the form of another woman."

"So what?" Maboroshi's voice became sly and vicious. "I can be whoever and whatever he wants--and you can't! That's what makes you angry, isn't it? The knowledge that you'll never--never--be who he really wants!"

Now Joss was truly enraged. "You're nothing but a pathetic little git with your head wedged up your ass!" She brought up the staff and took a step forward as if to strike him, but he was ready for her, raising one hand up in a mystical warding gesture. She retreated, snarling. "Do you really think that he's stupid enough to fall for your tricks again? If so, then let him out of those chains and see who he chooses."

Maboroshi grimaced at her challenge, his face twisting in pain. "He's mine! He'll choose me!"

"Ya think? Then let him go! Whaddaya got to lose?"

Maboroshi gritted his teeth--then suddenly relaxed, his eyes shining with madness. "I know how to make certain that he chooses me!" he hissed. "All I have to do…is be the only one left standing here!" He brought his hand closer to his face and began chanting in a strange guttural tongue.

Joss backed away, realizing that she had overplayed her hand. She held up the ash staff defensively. "Look, this is cheating. Don't you want him to choose between us fair and square? It won't mean anything otherwise."

"Oh yes, it will!" Maboroshi interrupted his spell briefly. "He'll be mine, and that's all that matters to me!" He returned to his chant, and Joss backed further away, knowing that he was gathering power to unleash his killing spell. Her eyes darted around the chamber, looking desperately for some barrier to dive behind, but the floor was stark and empty in this part of the secret room.

At that moment, the door slammed open, and the Doctor and Magus burst into the room. Joss met the Doctor's eyes with panicked gratitude, but Maboroshi was too far gone to stop.

"Shi ne!" he howled, and the black arrows of death blasted towards Joss, as the Doctor's eyes went dark with terror and the bitter pain of knowing that once again, he had left it just a little…too…late.

****

****

Glossary of Japanese Terms:

Senpai - upperclassman; senior

Teme - rude term of address, meaning "You bitch" or "You bastard"

Shi ne! - Die!

****

Author's notes: (12-30-03) Whew! Kudos to you, Gentle Reader, for making it through this nightmare!

First of all, I must reiterate my abject gratitude to Ryuen for her incredible and astute help in polishing this chapter. She worked rapidly, under great pressure from me, even staying up into the wee hours of the morning so that I could reach my weird, self-imposed deadline. Ryu-chan, you are a true friend, although I don't know how you put up with me - go figure!

Moving along: the horror genre. New to me and probably somewhat disgusting to you. But hey, the Muse rules, and I must follow, so hang in there, faithful friends; it will get better, I promise…and by better, I mean less horror. (sighs of relief) Of course, in my usual hentai way, I had to mix the horror in with sex, so perhaps I've created a new fanfiction genre: horrifying sex! Gyah!

Next, the music: if you're lucky enough to get your hands on this piece by Enya, it really enhances the nightmare sequence. Pax Deorum begins when Houjun wakes on the knoll outside his flooded village. The Kouran interlude coincides with the peaceful bridge in this song, then the ominous notes of the bagpipes or horns indicate Houjun's growing uneasiness with the disintegrating scenery. The final high-pitched choral "scream" is the scene with Houjun screaming at Kouran's transformation. The song ends with Joss' entrance and threat. Whoo!

Now for the Doctor and Magus scene: yes, that was totally sci-fi and Doctor Who, but to answer Ryuen's supposition, no, the Seventh Doctor's encounter with the Swarm is not an established novel or TV episode; it originates from my twisted brain along with the rest of this fic. For those of you who have read "Hidden Paths"--perhaps things are becoming clearer in that story; after all, it is the sequel to "Bridge" as well as "White Stones." And yes, Jack, I realize that the Doctor is cursing at Magus at the end of their scene together, but I think he's entitled to use bad language from time to time, especially under duress. As for your exciting info about the revival of Doctor Who by the BBC to return to television by 2005: Everyone get together now and send forceful mindwaves to the producers, repeating "Paul McGann must play the Doctor!" over and over again.

Oh, I almost forgot to explain an obscure reference for those of you who have never seen "Doctor Who" on television. Magus's continued references to "corridors" are a send-up of the many chase scenes in the TV show. Due to their extremely low budget for special effects, the Doctor and his companions were stuck running through corridors almost all of the time to indicate their flight from danger on alien planets, strange spaceships, haunted houses and just about every other imaginary location--no matter what the setting was supposed to be, they always ended up in the corridors!

Finally…well, I'm running a little behind on my deadline to post Bridge 17 by 1-7-04. I've learned a lot by working with Ryuen this week, and I see the need for careful beta-reading of this most important and climactic chapter. So I'm going to take Tenshi's advice and take my time on writing this (and release poor Ryuen from the whip!), so that I can give you the best chapter that I'm capable of writing. I may miss my deadline, but I promise you that with Ryuen's help, I will make it worth the wait.

To all of you wonderful readers and reviewers, I hope that you have a very safe and Happy New Year!

Love,

Roku