Strange reports had been filtering in to Kanna from various other villages, each puzzling, but all coinciding. Sometimes the villages were being attacked, other times the Nobuseri were collecting their payment; either way, it didn't matter. A different kind of Nobuseri would drop from the sky and begin to fight, then kill,those it was supposed to be working with. The whole process lasted anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours, but either way, the entranced villagers would watch from their shelters, amazed. The new one was faster than any previous Nobuseri, its build seeming to emphasize speed more the strength, which seemed to make it more deadly. It never spoke, but radiated a cold, deep hatred that made the villager's blood run sluggishly. No matter how long the battle took, the new Nobuseri would never retreat, and never surrendered, keeping on until all the Nobuseri were dead. It would leave as silently as it came, having never replied to insults, pleads, or challenges.
Kanbei and the others were concerned. While this Nobuseri seemed to take orders from no one, that didn't mean that he wouldn't attack them. Actually, Kanbei was sure that one day he would be able to see this mysterious new machine, since the Nobuseri attacked them fairly often.
He did not have to wait long.
The day after hearing the strange report, Nobuseri arrived again, large ones as well as footsoldiers and Red Spiders. Kanbei waited and watched, but it appeared that the Nobuseri were guarding against any type of aerial attack. He became absorbed in the battle, using his left arm again, finally, after a month of forced inactivity. Suddenly, a new presence dawned on him and he turned sharply around. Surely enough, there was the new model, extracting its sword from on the the large Nobuseri. Kanbei called the others off from attacking the large Nobuseri, focusing on the smaller, quicker ones and footsoldiers that could do as much damage with guns and bombs as the Nobuseri could. Once their battle was over, he turned to watch the new model face off against the 5 older ones, waiting for the outcome. Since the older models focused on strength, two went down immediately to the superior speed of the new one. He understood what the reports had meant by the feeling of cold, cold, hatred; he could feel it too. The new model lacked any sense of feeling, its being entirely consumed by hatred and a deep river of anger and resentment. At least with the older Nobuseri, there was a sense that the thing encased in metal had once been human. With this one...there was nothing. Just an endless well of cold. The battle was over in less than ten minutes, and all throughout, there was an itching sense of recognition of the style of the new model. Kanbei had seen it somewhere before. But where? He did not remember any Nobuseri using it before, so that could not be where he remembered it from. The new model stood and turned, extracting one of its two swords from the now empty husk of metal that had once been a Nobuseri. Its eyes swept over all the villagers, encompassing the samurai in that baleful glance that sent shivers down even Kanbei's spine. Still, there was that uncanny feeling of recognition, and Kanbei felt uneasy as it took off, apparently having found nothing of worth to it. What was wrong with him? He should be able to tell. All eyes followed the new model as it disappeared into the horizon, most wary, some confused, and one sad. Shichijirou looked over at their leader, whom he could tell was wrestling with trying to place the presence he had felt. He was able to tell exactly why the presence, why the style was so familiar to everyone else. He would not tell them, though. It was, perhaps, the better alternative.
'Ignorance is bliss, so they say,' Shichijirou thought, as he said aloud, "We should get to cleaning everything up. I don't believe that there will be any other attacks soon, but we should try to salvage everything to prepare for when the attack does come again."
Kanbei nodded, and his authority and respect added to the common sense of Shichijirou's order made both villagers and other samurai start to work. Shichijirou watched Kanbei merge into the flow of things, and sighed dramatically.
'I can't wait until he finally puts two and two together.'
He found a secluded cave and shut down the robotics, only his organic heart remaining awake. He listened to the silence, feeling the beating of his heart in his ears, his breath coming less in gasps and more evenly. He turned on the radio channel that would allow him to hear the conversations of the Nobuseri, but let no one else realize he was listening, and closed his eyes.
When he had seen the samurai in that village, he had felt that at one point he had known them. He even remembered names: Kikuchyo, Katsushiro, Gorobei, Heihachi, Shichijirou, and...
In his mind, he knew that he had felt for them, had considered them comrades, even if he did not always get along with them. But as he examined each image, felt each presence again, no feelings were conjured, just memories. He searched for the reason, and was not surprised to feel that the only emotions left to him were anger and hatred, both directed squarely at the Nobuseri. He felt that he probably had lost something, but since he did not feel the loss, he could not say what exactly was missing.
He slept, a deep, dreamless sleep, full of the buzz of the radio, bits of information being fed directly into his mind. A new message, apparently important since it was over more encoded line, crossed his mind and he became aware, and listened carefully. As he listened to the message, and read between the lines, a growing sense of cold satisfaction blossomed in his chest. He would have the Nobuseri in one place, at one time, and a chance to kill them all, he found his mouth instead curving into a malign smirk. Once he had committed the message to memory, he turned on the armor shell and blasted out of the cave he had been hiding in, startling wildlife. He gained his bearings and turned towards the coordinates he had discovered within the false ones, speeding along quickly. He withdrew into the emptiness inside him again, preparing himself for the battle that would most likely lead to his death.