Another Route

by RayneTDX

Everyone he cared about, dead. It has always been like this. Tatsumi tries his best to move on, but there are some things he just can't ignore. Being targeted by both Night Raid and the Empire, Tatsumi has to survive no matter the cost, all the while trying to live with the monster he has become. Major spoilers inside. PAIRING UNCONFIRMED.

23. Volume 2: Epilogue

A/N: Clarification is required. While it says epilogue in the title of this chapter, it simply means that this arc comes to a close. I shall be making relevant changes to the earlier chapters. This is NOT the last chapter. The next one is still being written.

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"Speech"

'Thoughts/Voices'

[Names/Titles]

Flashback/Dreams

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Volume 2: Epilogue

{?'s Perspective; A Forgotten Memory}

I could feel my entire being meld into my surroundings with every nimble footstep I made against the forest floor. I could feel the thin layer of morning dew dripped down from the leaves above me as I pushed aside all manner of foliage and flora blocking my path, narrowly missing my form as it made its way towards the forest floor. The leaves rustled, forming a serene melody that I would have enjoyed listening to had I not dashed through them in my haste. Letting go of any foliage I had grabbed onto led to a sharp recoil, branches recoiling from the wound-up state and leaving painful trails of red marks across my smooth body.

I clicked my tongue from the sharp pain. It wasn't as painful compared to the things I had endured. Compared to those, this just seemed… annoying. Some sharp twigs from the plant life nearby scraped against my skin, allowing a tinge of blood to be exposed to air.

I paid no mind to the injury. It will heal after all. My body would always heal, no matter what sort of injury it sustains. Bruises, scrapes, cuts, tears, scars, cracks, fractures, or amputation; as long as death is not dealt in an instant, all matters of injuries afflicted onto my body would eventually heal back to normal as if time itself had reverted things back to the way they should be.

"That way!" Someone's voice chased after me, followed closely by gunfire. Something sharp pierced through my shoulder, knocking me to the ground from impact alone.

That arm is wasted. It would take at least a minute for it to recover.

Using my other good arm, I painstakingly crawled into a nearby bush to hide. The sound of boots stamping against the earth created a miniature earthquake, vibrations resonating into my entire being. Erasing my presence, I willed myself to cease all minor movements, including those made by breathing.

"Where did he go?" Another different voice barked out this time. This one was rougher. The sound of running from earlier slowed down and gradually faded into steps belonging to someone walking extremely slowly.

"Nothing on my side, Sir!" A third voice yelled.

"The others?"

"Nothing."

Footsteps grew nearer and nearer. I further erased my presence, controlling my breathing to further reduce any chance of detection.

Footsteps came to a halt right next to me.

My pursuer inched his gun towards the bush and, using it as a rod, pushed the bush open.

"Nothing on my side as well." He finally spoke up beside me.

My fingers finally moved after several seconds. I opened and closed the palm of my injured arm, checking on the extent of the injury and how much it healed.

I was given a satisfactory response.

Thus, I moved, pouncing onto him from behind after he had made the mistake of turning his back to my position. My arms crossed around his neck, placing him into a choke from behind. I exerted more strength into my arms, feeling the resistance from his hands pushing against my arms in an attempt to alleviate his situation. I willed more power into my arms, tapping into a strength that was more than necessary. Something pulsed within me. In the next moment, the person whom I was choking had his face turned purple and his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

His hands that were once struggling to remove mine fall lifelessly beside him, dropping the gun he had once been carrying. I lifted his corpse and hoisted it over my tiny frame while my other hand reached for the gun he had dropped.

A newer model! Lucky!

The fellow teammates of the corpse noticed me and began directing the tip of their guns towards me. I dashed towards the nearest enemy, arms still grabbing onto the corpse, and used him as a cover for the bullets. As I neared, the enemy directed the barrel of the gun at me and fired.

The others around us followed suit, uncaring towards the plight of their teammate near my position, and even less for the corpse in my hands that they would be defiling. Well, it's not like I expect them to care anyway. They were, after all, trained and conditioned right down to the core to be a tool in the shape of a human. It was natural that they possess no empathy or sympathy towards anything.

Not like I cared either. A minute is more than enough to finish this person.

Using the body as a meat shield to block bullets, I lifted the gun in my hands towards his head. Just as his shot was about to leave the barrel, I moved my body and adjusted it such that it would fly right by me as I dashed towards him. Once I was close enough, I threw the corpse down onto him, enough force used to ensure he would be knocked down onto the ground.

My plans didn't come to fruition. Perhaps due to his combat experiences, he had simply moved aside, just enough to not get caught within the range of the body. In doing so, he no longer had a steady aim at me. A bullet through the center of his eyes prevented him from making any more moves against me.

I then ducked down as a bullet from somewhere else got too close for comfort. Staring in that direction, my eyes landed on another enemy, and several more near his location with pistols in their hands. Their lifeless eyes locked on my figure and refused to move away even if there was an immediate danger to their life.

All of them are tools, tools in the convenient shape and form of a human. Killing one of them would not deter the rest. They would just endlessly toss themselves into the meat grinder like moths to a flame knowing it would be suicide. The only thing that could stop them would be orders from superiors.

It is only fitting for them to end up with the fate that all other tools like them would eventually meet. An ending that would remain unchanged by time:

Being disposed of in combat.

…

{Tatsumi's Perspective; Bottom of the Labyrinth}

'Just like how much light exists down here, the bottom of the Labyrinth is pretty empty huh?'

Al vented out his frustrations with a huff. He had been talking non-stop ever since we arrived and would not shut up about his disappointment.

Luna remained silent, so I am unsure of what she is actually feeling. However, from the atmosphere alone, I could tell that she was equally displeased and unamused.

'What were you expecting would be here?' Michael tried humoring Al by replying to his words, though the slight undertones in his voice told volumes of the sheer disappointment he was suffering from.

'I don't know. Maybe some sort of outrageously strong monster or something. Just anything but this.' Al signed once more for the umpteenth time. 'Heck, I would have been okay if there was a ruined city as well. Back in my days, it was usually a monster's nest.'

It was a relief in some ways that Al wears his heart on his sleeve, making it easy to guess his thoughts and emotions like the other two. Usually, clues that I could glean, ranging from their tones to their choice of words and even the differences from their usual mannerisms would help me identify what they actually felt. It was simpler in the current context since Al had been ranting and unconsciously spreading a contagious cloud of depression that everyone else had fallen prey to, even if they had not given consent. Soon enough, everyone was enveloped in depression. Michael had become more irritated than normal, constantly throwing snide remarks towards anyone who was speaking, namely Al, as well as taking offense at the smallest of things while Luna had not spoken a word nor bothered to reply to anyone, even if someone was calling for her. My biggest theory regarding her behavior was that she actively ignores everything around her. I would like to say that I was unaffected by all this but somehow I was feeling down and lethargic, as though I had just woken up and didn't feel like moving around.

My eyes lazily darted around the cavern, directing light from the lantern towards a certain area whenever necessary. A set of crude and uneven stairs formed naturally by some weird coincidence of nature had led me down to this place. The final room at the bottom of the Labyrinth consisted of dirt and earth. As there was no source of water nor light, there existed no sign of any flora or fauna that could be found thriving here. It was also needlessly large and spacious, seemingly capable of housing several thousands of people, and still had ample space for them to move around in. However, there was no way to proceed further save for the multiple different stairs that lead down to said location. I had tried to find some way to continue downwards within the darkness, but all search efforts came up empty.

'You think it's possible that there's some sort of path we could have missed on our way here?' I asked everyone else. 'This place is completely empty and has no way forward.'

'Perhaps. Though I am certain that it would have led you here to this cavern regardless.' Michael's voice carried a large weight of annoyance in it, though he seemed to be doing his best to keep it controlled.

Light from the lantern illuminated more clues within the cavern. Several openings led upwards and none downward.

'We had taken one of the many paths that lead us here. Besides, I'm pretty certain most of the other routes here might have been blocked by rubble from that shaking earlier.'

'So it had been all for naught, huh?' The sign that followed Al's comment was the perfect indicator of how depressed he is.

'There is barely anything of worth that we could bring back.' Michael spoke out. 'I wouldn't mind if there was a trinket here that we take back as a memento for sentiments.'

'Man, I wish something interesting could happen right now! Anything would be fine, just make things interesting for us!'

'Al, I really don't think you understand how jinxes wor-'

Before Michael could finish his insults towards Al about his lack of knowledge on the subject of jinxes, a section of the Labyrinth wall collapsed and burst open, hurling rocks and rubble everywhere. I closed my eyes to prevent the dust from getting into my eyes. Once the dust settled, I shone the light towards the collapsed wall, allowing me to examine the wreckage. What's left of the wall is now a gaping hole, revealing a giant Danger Beast of oversized proportions emerging from the other side of the wall. It fell forwards, its hands stretched out in front, looking as though it was trying to break its fall. I took a good look at the Danger Beast, gawking at the sheer size of said Danger Beast. Even the vast space within the cavern that seemed capable of sheltering an entire city of people seemed to be barely enough for the Danger Beast to move around freely.

'T-That worked?' Michael uttered, baffled at the premise that something that was mentioned intentionally actually occurred.

'Now, this is what I'm talking about!' The depressing atmosphere moments earlier was washed away as it began to fill with excitement and anticipation. 'This is what I call a worthy challenge. A large monster that can't be taken down by normal means and has the ability to trample an entire section of a city to ruins.'

It didn't help that Al had lost himself to his excitement that somehow seem to be contagious as it slowly infects the previous wielder of the Imperial Arms with the exception of-

'Impossible! If it were this easy for a jinx to happen, then I wouldn't have needed to shave years of my life slaving away in that toxic environment trying to make ends meet.' Michael seems to have broken down, muttering things under his breath that I shouldn't know. As the only person not caught up in the mood, I decided to ignore the people in my head.

Leaving the hot-blooded people and the even more depressed Michael aside, I glanced towards the Danger Beasts before me, scrutinizing its features. It possessed a large body, and was easily capable of touching the ceiling of the space we are in should it stand on both of its hind legs. If I were to classify this Danger Beasts before me, it easily ranks near the top of the list. It looked more like the Danger Beasts told during the time of the First Emperor, which was subjugated to create Imperial Arms. Just the size was enough to make even the finest warriors tremble in their boots.

I also noticed something odd about this Danger Beast. There was a chain wrapped around its neck, pulsating with golden light as it continued to constrict around the Danger Beast, as though it was a python trying to strangle its prey.

Luckily for me, the golden chain around its neck actually painted a target on the Danger Beast, allowing me to know where it would be in this blinding darkness at the bottom of the Labyrinth even without the use of the lantern.

Noticing me, perhaps due to the lantern in my hands shining a ray of light towards it, the flesh below its jaw began enlarging, growing to an abnormal size. Seconds later, it bore its fangs at me in the form of a thunderous roar as it let out whatever air it had been holding in.

"▅▅▅▅▃▃▃▂▂▂▂▂▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▅▅▅▅▅▅▃▃▃▃▃▅▅"

The very air and earth around me trembled as if in fear of the might of Danger Beast before me. A vile warning of imminent demise reverberated around the cavern, bouncing off the wall and creating echoes that only added to the intensity of the sounds. I brought my hands up to my ears, dropping the lantern in my hands, and struggled to block out whatever sounds that were threatening to burst my eardrums. Putrid winds followed, crashing against every fiber of my being as it exerts inhuman strength to prevent itself from being blown away. The pungent scent brought about nausea, and my body had no choice but to hold it in as my legs soon gave out, and I was brought to my knees, kneeling as though it was from an absolute order from higher beings. My body refused to budge and I could no longer muster any strength to do something and continued staying in my current position, eyes squinted, and gazing upon the figure of this Danger Beast. My heartbeat was increasing, spiking in its frequency and it constantly banged itself against the confines of my chest. Waiting for the ordeal to pass took some time, but eventually, it ran out of air. I would have said that I recovered, but the ringing in my ears as well as the disorientation I experienced when I stood told me a different story.

'A miserable display of bloodlust. It's trying too hard to intimidate you and lacks any sort of majesty or elegance.' Luna finally emerged from her long silence. A small layer of excitement now veiled in her words, despite being mostly impassive. Perhaps because I was constantly being beaten by said person, I could somewhat grasp her emotions under her impassive looks even though it was never proven that my guesses were accurate.

Although my mind had been disoriented by ringing sounds, I could feel a chill running down my spine as her words grew increasingly rougher.

'I would say that it is only polite to beat it into the ground mercilessly after all the effort it has made. It would also serve as a redemption of sorts for your miserable display of kneeling to it.'

Not even one minute into combat and I was already chided by my demonic instructor.

'Kakakaka. True, it is only bad manners at this point if you don't respond to it with force.' Al's voice drowned in excitement echoed out in my mind.

'I suppose it would make do as a means of getting rich. Its scales and teeth are bound to fetch a good price. What's more, I'm pretty sure there would be a high demand for other parts of its body, though we might need appraisers in various fields to actually determine its true worth. What luck for us to encounter it here.'

Michael seemed to have recovered from his depression and has begun zealously calculating the amount of gold that we could receive selling the Danger Beast before us. It didn't help that he would occasionally mutter some sort of threat under his breath.

I guess he's had it tough during his life.

Standing upright, I reached for the handle of a sword that emerged at the mouth of my snake. I also brought out the few remaining swords that were left in it and had it on standby inside the mouth of my snake, ready to be drawn should I reach for it.

Moments later, black matter coats itself onto my legs, morphing itself into the shape of a legging that would have belonged to an armor. Placing more strength into my legs, I launched myself towards the Danger Beasts. The distance between us closed in less than 5 seconds.

The monstrous Danger Beast before me pulled its hand back before sending it down onto my tiny frame, hell-bent on crushing me flat. I narrowly avoided jumping away, its hand crashing down onto the spot I had been before, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Not giving me any time to rest, its other hand crashed down towards me with terrifying force.

With enhanced speed granted to me by the leggings, I danced around the battlefield, narrowly escaping from any sort of attack the Danger Beasts dealt. Every time I got close enough, the Danger Beast would bring its monstrous hands down onto me as though it were squashing a bug that was out of place. Each time it failed to kill me only fuels its frustrations, and it didn't take much for the Danger Beast to lose patience. It did no favors that I have also taken every opportunity available during its strikes to land a couple of lucky hits. Everything from slashes to jabs. While these strikes had only proven how resilient the scales that layered itself across every part of its body were, it did manage to annoy the Danger Beast even more.

It started to bring both of its hands down onto the ground below, rapidly smashing every inch of the ground that its hands could reach in hopes that I would eventually be caught. While it had sent shockwaves across the ground that would have buckled the knees of any number of enemies and vast layers of dust that had accumulated from eons ago, it was ultimately a futile attempt. Perhaps a hidden feature, the leggings had dulled most of the shockwaves and what I felt could be described as a slight shaking. The dust had also provided me with cover, though I surmised that it might not have required sight to discover the location of enemies.

Utilizing the property of [Reinforcement] within the leggings, I propelled myself off the ground and leaped towards the head of the Danger Beasts. Using the protruding spikes from its body as well as various other parts of the body that served as convenient steps, I gradually climbed its body. As I climbed, I made sure to avoid looking directly at the glowing chain. Once I was close enough to its head, I positioned my sword for a jab. Once I had neared, I thrust my sword towards its eyes and drew blood…was not what had happened.

Instead, the Danger Beast exhibited a tremendous feat of reaction that trumped what it had displayed earlier. Its hand had snaked out from within the dust clouds it had made and swatted me to the side like I was an annoying fly. My body slammed painfully into the wall, before falling back onto the ground with equal amounts of pain. Painful realization of the truth was the only painkiller I had that kept me from crying out in pain.

'Why does it… even need... to be smart when its... body can already... rival most... in strength.' I sputtered out, words coming out in pieces as I tried to suppress the pain my body is experiencing.

I had been thinking that it had been a simple-minded Danger Beast that relied on brute strength to remain at its position on the food chain and I fought it with that understanding. What I did not ascertain, unfortunately, was that this Danger Beast might have had a modicum of human-like intelligence to perceive what my mind could have been thinking. I had been underestimating what my opponent was capable of and it came as no surprise that I had been played.

It seems this Danger Beast possessed a remarkably higher level of intelligence than others of its kind that I have met to date. It had purposefully created the illusion that it could not move fast enough to catch up, and once I had been completely convinced of this fact, capitalized on it and struck. If that's the case, I might need to make new plans to defeat it.

'Tatsumi, you might have had the wrong idea.'

While formulating together plans in my head, Michael came and put in his two cents. 'While what you have been thinking is very much plausible, you might be misunderstanding something. Take a closer look at the body of the Danger Beast.'

I turned my eyes towards the Danger Beasts. Its body was littered with resilient scales and some spikes could be seen protruding out from various joints as well as along its vertebrae. Oddly, even those spikes were partially covered in scales. Both its hands and legs are oversized in proportion to its body. Rows of serrated fangs could be seen from within the confines of its mouth, and what appears to be horns could be seen jutting out from its serpentine head

'If you were to look at it for the first time, it would seem intimidating in terms of size as well as strength. However, if it is a Danger Beast that has strength, then it would mean that it would have no use of intelligence. After all, like predatory beasts, they would simply use their strength to solve every issue it encounters. Intelligence would be for those that do not possess the necessary strength.'

As I listened, I directed the black matter from within my body to heal the broken bones as well as the wounds I had sustained. Gradually, the pain faded away and my breathing slowed to a steady pace. The healing capabilities of this black matter are really amazing. Anything short of death would be healed back to normal.

'Then how do you explain its feats earlier? That was clearly not just a lucky strike. Somehow, its reaction became faster than what it displayed previously.'

'It's easy to explain. It's simply a form of adaptation. A habit, so to speak.'

'A habit? That's just absurd.'

'It isn't. Think of it like this. It has a body that's big compared to the other Danger Beasts. That means it has more mass than the other Danger Beasts. This means that it generally has to move slowly to not fall over. Due to this slow speed, another Danger Beast smaller and faster than it would come, challenging it.'

'I don't see your point.'

My eyes darted towards the Danger Beast. Fortunately, it seems to have lost interest in me and its hands are now attempting to remove the glowing chain around its neck. How it came to possess it is still unknown, but it clearly wants nothing to do with it.

'Don't worry. I'm getting there. Another thing you might want to take note of would be its habitat. Unlike the upper floors of the labyrinth, there is barely any source of light here. Sure, there might be some form of light, but I doubt it's barely enough. So how does it "see"?'

'That's easy. Sounds. Something like echolocation that bats usually have.'

'Correct. However, if it relies on sound, then it should have some method or organ that it uses to give off a high-frequency sound. However, the roar earlier elucidated that it doesn't have that sort of ability to produce such sounds, so what else could it have used?'

I started pondering. Could it have used its hearing? However, if its ears were sensitive, then it would not have produced those loud roars just now. What else could there have been?

'Here is my theory. Those spikes and the horn on its body. I am assured that they serve some sort of function to this. Perhaps the spikes on its body vibrate or tremble to create sounds while the horns on its head receive the echoes.'

'But doesn't explain those fast movements. You yourself said that it couldn't move fast.'

'Hold on there Tatsumi, I never said it couldn't move fast. I only said that it's generally slow, and its slowness is what attracts its prey. You could say that its appearance is there as bait to lure prey. Earlier in the fight, I'm not sure if you realized but there had been 2 major clues as to how it had displayed its feat of reaction. Firstly, it had been unmoving as it was attacking you. Secondly, instead of grabbing you it instead swatted you away. Had it possessed some form of intelligence, wouldn't it be logical for it to grab you instead?'

I'm even more confused now. Or rather, my mind is racing as it tries to piece together the puzzle.

'So what you're saying is that this Danger Beast can only move fast when it's stationary and is unable to control its speed. Once it ascertained that I was in the air, it struck me. And since it's a method that it uses often, it eventually became a habit, a common trick it uses.'

'Good enough.'

'Then why does it need its enormous size and those impenetrable scales? Won't it be better if it could just hunt with a smaller size since it would be able to move faster?'

'Hey! I only gave you a possible theory, not an answer. I'm not the one who created this Danger Beast. Don't ask me such silly questions.'

All sorts of questions began flooding my mind, irregularities that could have proven what we discussed wrong. However, all of these questions were to remain unanswered as Michael simply just shrugged them off as silly.

'Now, I'm pretty sure I gave you all the help I could. The rest is up to you.'

Leaving behind some words of good faith, I was once again made to face off against the monstrosity with new knowledge.

Sensing my presence, the Danger Beast directed its head towards my direction. It didn't move but instead waited for me to get closer, all while pulling on the chain around its neck which seemed to emanate a fiercer glow every time it was pulled.

I readied my blade as I approached closer, making sure that the weapon was capable of striking at a moment's notice. My mind raced as it formed the necessary steps required to defeat the monstrosity.

Perhaps because I was in range, its hand shot down onto me, threatening to crush me with immense force.

Leaving my body to instinct, I darted away from where its hand would end up. Using the sword in my hands, I casually directed its tip to chip off portions of the skin on my lower legs, just enough to draw blood.

The wound expanded and black matter poured out profusely. I silently commanded them to wrap around my legs, before it slowly made its way upwards and engulfed my entire body in the murky darkness that it provided. A surreal feeling of warmth spreads throughout my body. The entire process of forming my armor seemed to last only a few seconds, though it felt like an eternity.

Once all of the armor was properly attached to my body, I started moving up its arm with my limbs fueled with power. My sword from earlier has been encased by the black matter in a similar fashion to mine. At the center of the hilt pulsed an eerie purple glow. Gripping it tightly in one hand, I struck it against the side of its head.

The Danger Beast screeched as it started thrashing at its surroundings. To ensure my safety, I leaped off the Danger Beast towards the walls of the cavern. I would have been helpless in mid-air had I not twisted my body and shifted my weight around, trying to adjust my position so that I could land with my feet against the wall.

Had I not moved off of his body, I might have been violently thrown off of him.

In a feat only made possible by the armor that I donned, I leaped off the wall towards the Danger Beast at a speed that I didn't anticipate. I panicked, flailing around in the air before haphazardly regaining my composure and readied my sword for a passable strike.

My momentum, added together with my enhanced strength allowed my blade to pass through one of the many spikes across the back of the Danger Beast unhindered. It was like driving a knife through a block of cheese. There was definitely resistance, but it wasn't something that could last.

I jumped off again to avoid being crushed under its hand. The Danger Beast was now angry, screeching much louder and more frequently than before. Its hand darted towards numerous places, all of which were places that my body had been ew seconds before.

I landed on the ground below before continuing my assault. Running up its body using whatever part of its body that seemed convenient as a foothold. My objective would be to aim for the spikes on its back, as well as the horns on its head.

If what Michael assumed was true, removing just one of the two would permanently cripple the Danger Beast. One transmits sounds, while the other receives those sounds. The sound waves that bounce off the surfaces in the cavern help to craft out the surroundings to the Danger Beast.

The easier option would be to remove the horns, but I can't get close to the head without sustaining significant damage. I could always slice the horns off from behind it, but since its attention is now placed on me, getting behind him might prove slightly difficult.

I moved forward once more, tensed as I forced myself to dodge the strikes the Danger Beast deals. I jumped from one place to another leaving nothing but sounds within the cavern as I moved to each individual horn on its body, my sword clutched firmly in my grip as I engraved countless marks across its scales like those of a child's doodle.

My efforts did reward me with countless shards littered across the floor that would have formed the horns that once belonged to the Danger Beast.

I distanced myself once the final horn on its body shattered, leaving behind a very confused Danger Beast. No doubt it should be attempting to find its bearings once more without the use of its horns.

I readied myself to leap in once more before I paused mid-step. Something had been nagging away at the corners of my mind.

I missed something. Something that could be crucial.

Earlier I had made the mistake of thinking that this Danger Beast had been simple. Clearly, it had been keeping its tricks close to its chest, revealing them only when necessary. What's to say that this Danger Beast has more cards not yet dealt.

I eyed the Danger Beast cautiously as I approached it. My eyes were trained on every movement and carefully studied every action it makes.

Its head was unfocused, no longer trained on a specific target. Instead, its head was swaying. Why would its head be swaying?

The answer came a second later as a portion of its neck started to glow with a mix of yellow and orange, changing into a strong hue of red before eventually turning white.

I leaped towards the walls, narrowly avoiding my demise as the Danger Beast let loose a torrent of suffocating flames.

The flames licked every corner of the room, slowly heating the temperatures of the cavern to an unbearable level. At some point, superheated fluids started spewing out of the mouth of the Danger Beast, turning whatever it touches into molten earth.

It was fortunate that I was able to coat black matter around my hands that formed a pair of gauntlets, which helped me stay several meters away from the ground below.

Now that the temperature in the room has significantly increased, the amount of oxygen that I have is also drastically reduced. Adding in the discomfort factor and any other plans that demand a battle of attrition being a mandatory requirement can be brushed off the board.

A decisive strike. That's what I need to finish the battle quickly. Simple, fast, satisfying, and efficient. The only problem left is where on that massive, impenetrable body do I land my strike.

'Tatsumi.' Michael's voice sounded distant. There was no change in his voice from his normal self. It wasn't lined with melancholy or any of the other emotions. Such assumptions are now a thing of the past now that I had more experience with this power within me. It was actually a fault on my part that Michael's voice seemed distant.

'Yes, I am aware." I calmly replied back, trying my hardest to suppress the internal turmoil and panic that has gradually surfaced. While these feelings were caused by the impending doom that I might face should I prolong my fight with the Danger Beast before me, there is another more important cause that contributed to them.

Said cause could be reflected in the state of my armor. While a general look would have revealed nothing out of the ordinary, a more detailed inspection would have brought to light symptoms. The outlines of the armor, ever so slightly, would twitch and change. The details on the armor are also starting to muddle. What was once cracks that run along the length of the armor would now look more like a drawing instead. Their looks resemble the work of a somewhat talented painter, as though it had been drawn onto the armor instead of it being a trait that reflects the state of an armor.

In the words of Michael, I am required to control the Imperial Arm manually after an extended period of use, constantly occupying what's left of my limited attention and directing it towards the task of ensuring the black matter continues maintaining its form as a suit of armor instead of crumbling apart.

In the words of Al, I am mentally fatigued from manipulating the black matter. It doesn't help that the temperature in the area has drastically spiked.

If I were to continue prolonging my fight with the Danger Beast, there is a very real possibility of losing control over the Imperial Arm and potentially getting myself killed from overuse, assuming that the Danger Beast doesn't kill me before that happens.

Partially dispelling the black armor, I was left with a pair of gauntlets, legging, and boots. The surplus of the black matter was moved towards the sword gripped in my hands. I chose to ignore how ridiculously twisted it became as the black fluid moved to form what seemed like razor-sharp teeth on every inch of the sword. It was a miracle that the blade was unaffected by the change.

Had I not been wearing the gauntlets, I would not have had the strength to steady the abomination that my sword had become.

Had I not been equipped with what's left of the armor covering the lower half of my body, I would not have thought that jumping to heights easily dwarfing my own by several times could be remotely possible.

What occurred next went by in a blur. I couldn't remember how the fight ended. All I had left was the single burning memory of my blade poised for a strike on its head, its slit pupils glaring venomously at me as though it was burning me with its eyes. There was no conclusion that I could draw whether I had won or not. Everything else after that was a blank, sapped away by the overuse of my strange powers.

However, it did fill me with a peculiar sense of pride that I had rarely experienced. The soothing kind that snags at the corners of your mind, subconsciously influencing your actions towards experiencing more.

…

{Third Person's Perspective; Bottom of the Labyrinth}

"That concludes my report, sir! Whatever available man we have is now moving to secure the runaway. We should have it under control within 15 minutes."

"You have 10." The commander coldly replied, uncaring of the flinch that momentarily appeared across his adjutant's face. His adjutant composed himself, saluting before scurrying off towards where the fight is supposed to take place.

"You should probably cut them some slack, Edmonds."

Those words roused Edmonds from whatever thoughts plaguing his mind. His focus now shifted onto the hazel tufts of messy hair on his acquaintance. His inky black eyes were elsewhere, going from place to place scrutinizing the sights around him while occasionally moving back to Edmonds. His carefree attitude only made it frustratingly hard for Edmonds to predict what had been on his mind.

"That is probably why you never had as many promotions over the years compared to your peers."

Perched on the back of a resting Danger Beast nearby, Edmonds wrapped his thin fingers around the butt of his thin cigarette as he drew a long puff out of it before exhaling long streams of smoke into the air around him. His distant eyes stared at the trails they left as they floated into the air.

"I'll take my chances at promotion, Raymond. The last thing I need is an operative under my command dying for a stupid reason like complacency. I'm already thankful that the only thing wrong so far had been a runaway beast."

"I'm pretty sure what you're doing to them is more likely to get them killed than keeping them safe." Raymond quipped back, mutely chuckling at the irony of Edmonds' actions. "There is a blurry line between working them hard and working them dead."

Edmonds stared at him for a moment as Raymond settled down from his laughs before his gaze lingered elsewhere.

"I know my men better than anyone. They at least know how to conduct themselves appropriately and meet expectations without being over-zealous for achievements. I trust them to be at least capable of pulling off whatever tough orders I give." Edmonds paused as he took another puff from his cigarette and watched the thin trail of cloudy smoke rises once again into the air above. "It's only a pity that I don't share the same feeling towards the new additions to the roster this time."

He would never admit that one of his guilty pleasures involved watching the embers scatter into every direction as his boots extinguished their home. His eyes moved back to Raymond, his acquaintance that he had been able to maintain better relations with compared to most others.

He attributes it to their similar amount of years in service within their respective post and a large number of times over those years they had been assigned to the same task.

He won't admit to calling him a friend, so he would assume Raymond as the next best position in his social life.

Edmonds paused as Raymond handed him a box of cigarettes, a silent invitation to join him and loosen up. Edmonds hesitated, before reaching his hands out to grab a cigarette stick. Using the flame from one of the torches surrounding their temporary camp, he ignited the stick and took a puff from the said stick. Choking hot air filled his lungs with the noxious taste of tobacco. It did clear his mind, helping him relax and think about the less troublesome things.

"You need to trust these men a little more. You know this."

"Yea, but the stakes this time are different. So different that the Generals had to pull men from all over just to obtain the minimum manning for this operation. They even had to have that wet blanket stationed here several weeks in advance."

"Wet blanket? Do you mean the Commander of the Surface Teams? If I'm not mistaken his name's Fuuma."

"Yea, that guy. The one with a crush on one of the Generals."

"Oh, right. I remember now. It's really not that surprising, considering how gorgeous she is."

Raymond held his head up, hands cupping over his mouth as he pondered over something inside his head. His brows furrowed as he came across something he couldn't fathom.

"You know, I never really understood why you hate him. You've never even worked with him that much."

Edmonds took his sight off of his cigarette and stared impassively towards Raymond. There was silence as none of them said anything. Raymond patiently waited while Edmonds pondered if he should talk about it.

"No reason. He just can't read the mood or take jokes very well and was always serious. "

"Sounds to me like pot calling kettle black."

A wide sneer was present on his face as his words left his lips, one meant to mock jokingly.

"You s-"

"Relax. We all have our reasons. I shouldn't have pried."

There was a tense silence between them as both men slowly pondered on the circumstances that led them here.

"5 years already passed huh?"

Raymond broke the silence between them, snapping Edmonds out of his thoughts.

"Was that how long you've been here?"

"Yea. 5 years since I ran away and defected. You?"

"7 years. And even till now, I've been completing impossible tasks, like everyone else." His response gained a small chuckle between them, an inside joke within the revolutionary Camps.

The tapping of footsteps against the cold dungeon ground indicated the approach of Edmonds' adjutant, who reported news he had been anticipating.

"Sir, we found it. The teams are moving towards it to secure it"

"Good. Keep me posted on any changes."

Raymond took one last puff from the small stub of his cigarette between his fingers, the tip glowing bright one final time before it extinguished underneath the heel of his boots. Hands shoved into his pockets, he proceeded to walk off in the direction where the adjutant had run towards.

His assistance would be necessary.

"Maybe a few more years, but eventually we'll see the fall of the Empire." Raymond's voice echoed after Edmonds. "For now, We'll just have to complete whatever the higher-ups demand of us."

Leaving behind those words, Edmonds silently saw him off. Taking another long puff of hot air, he immersed himself in his thoughts. He would be staying here for a little while more before heading back up to the surface.

…

{Raymond's Perspective, Captain of the Fourth Escort Team, Bottom Of The Labyrinth}

I headed towards where Edmonds' adjutant had scurried off to. With the lingering taste of tobacco in my mouth and my palms tucked warmly inside my coat pockets smoked evenly with the scent of tobacco, I slowly made my way over to where some of my soldiers gathered, silently humming a catchy tune under my breath.

Our rogue Danger Beast continued thrashing about, no doubt due to the chain that was currently around its neck, its hands trying whatever method it could devise to remove them from its neck. A scene of demolished earth and spider-webbed craters in our surroundings served as a testament to the amount of effort it used to remove the Imperial Arm.

The soldiers surrounding it maintained a good distance away, careful of the various debris that would be thrown up because of its struggle. Utilizing projectiles of every kind, they would cover a vanguard who would close the distance between them and draw its attention before moving away to safety when it decided to engage. This dance continued several times, hoping that the simple-minded Danger Beast would eventually divert its attention to them long enough for the Imperial Arm to control it once again without too much resistance.

As of right now, their tactics are succeeding and they didn't seem like they required help. I let out a sigh. I only came here to provide some assistance if they couldn't deal with the runaway Danger Beast, but witnessing their competency in capturing the Danger Beast, I was relieved that these men are able to dutifully handle the task given to them. It would seem that I had been worried for nothing.

It would only be a matter of time before the Danger Beast is brought under control. The Imperial Arms user we were tasked to escort was still back at the main camp, ensuring that the Imperial Arm would continue controlling the other Danger Beasts, preventing them from going on a rampage while at the same time constantly waiting for an opening to bring it back under control.

Fishing the packet of cigarettes out of my pocket, my fingers reached within its confines for another stick. Searching around for a light, I cursed under my breath when there wasn't any.

I'm sure Edmonds won't mind if I used a match for this. Even though there are strict guidelines on its use, I'm pretty sure one or two sticks used on a cig or two shouldn't be a big deal.

Fiddling around my breast pockets, I brought out the military-issued matchbox. Back when I was serving under the Empire, these matchboxes were issued as part of standard equipment, and on many occasions, a matchbox was replaced after every campaign.

Once defected, we came to realize that these standard-issue equipment were lacking in supply. Sometimes, we had to wait several months just for there to be a replacement. Logistics and supply lines were not as developed and several times we had to use personal funds to buy them in different locations during our various missions.

It was never fun when personal money was used outside of food, drinks, smoke, and women.

I scraped the wooden stick against the rough paper along the side of the box. A fire was drawn on my second try, and a small orange flame burned away at the stick, the prickling heat stinging against my skin when it got too close to my fingers. I attempted to bring it closer to the cig held on my lips when it was blown out, probably by the wind coming from the thrashing of the Danger Beast.

I cursed, before moving further away from the fight to try again with another stick.

Another match was lit and the small flame on the edge of the stick illuminated the dark space I found myself in, revealing to me the figure of someone lying on the floor several meters away. My body tensed, waiting for the person to strike first. He didn't, proving to me that he wasn't an enemy lying in ambush.

Bringing the flame to the end of my cigarette, I allowed my lungs to be filled with burning hot smoke. Blowing out the fire, I slowly made my way towards the person. My hands reached for the knife tucked in my thigh holster. When my eyes fully adjusted to the dark, an unconscious person came into view.

His face indicated that he was still in his teens. Messy brown hair framed the upper portion of his face. His appearance was unkempt, with many layers of dirt caking his outfit. I scrutinized his attire and searched around his pockets. Other than the sword he carried and what little amount of armor he had on him, nothing incriminating was found on him. Nothing could prove that he was working for the Empire or any of the local guilds. No emblems or encoded letters. His attire consists of regular civilian wear.

He must have been an adventurer who came into the Labyrinth, hoping to explore the bottom floors and find an easy way to make quick money. If I just left him be, surely his comrades who had ventured down into the bottom floors of the labyrinth with him would come searching for him.

At the very least he should be feeling lucky that a bag of gold coins was enough to trade for his life. After all, revolutionary agents like me have strict policies to remove any witnesses, uncaring of whether they were conscious or not. Anyone found when we work would be classified as witnesses. Besides, it can be justified that what I'm doing was contributing to the revolution by acquiring funds to support future operations. Funds are not on the level of what Night Raid's pulling in, but money is money after all.

Pocketing his money, I stood up after examining his body. There was hardly anything of monetary value on him. A small question, however, gnaws away at the corners of my mind. What he had experienced for him to end up here, alone and out cold? It was no easy feat for my men to make their way down to the lowest floors of the Labyrinth. Several times some pesky Danger Beasts harassed us with numbers and we had to fight tooth and nail to survive. There was absolutely no way that experience can save his life when swarms and swarms of Danger Beasts come after you one after another without fear. Surely, this kid and his comrades must have experienced something of that level to have been separated and for him to have landed in this state.

Sounds of fighting have gradually died out as the Danger Beast was being brought under the influence of the Imperial Arm. No longer was it trying to remove the chain around its neck. Instead, its movement has become sluggish as though it was in a trance, its free will robbed away.

"Who are-"

One of the men started shouting before the sound of impact silenced him halfway through his sentence.

Simultaneously, the sound of bodies falling onto the ground followed closely. I turned back to where my men were. The Danger Beast had become silent, the effects of the Imperial Arm successfully taming it. However, all of the soldiers gathered to help subdue it were lying on the ground unconscious.

Looking around, there was no perpetrator or anything that could point towards the person responsible. I turned my head to the adventurer I found, his body still on the ground. Whoever it was, I would assume he wasn't working alone.

Where-

The sharp point of a knife was aimed at the back of my neck and my body tensed up immediately. I suppressed whatever warrior instincts that had been ingrained in my body so that my captor wouldn't react impulsively. All it took was a tiny twist of his knife and I could potentially lose my life.

"No funny business please."

A voice followed soon after. The jovial tone in his voice seemed out of place for the tense situation we are currently in. None of my men nearby are close to being awake, and I won't be expecting any reinforcements coming from the main camp.

I steadily raised my hands above my head, even making an exaggerated flexing of my fingers to signal to my captor that there was nothing in them.

"My comrades and I have some questions for you. I would love it if you could answer some of them for us."

I didn't bother replying to his question.

"Who are you people?" A stammer made it out of my mouth involuntarily, but years of fieldwork allowed me to hold it down. Any sign of weakness during these situations should be eliminated, or removed unless they could be used as leverage against the other.

The pressure coming from the knife seems to have increased. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to accelerate heart rate. "Irrelevant. I will be the one asking the questions here, not you."

His reply gave me more clues. Even though it was subtle, there were faint traces of stutters coming from his words. He seems to be somewhat nervous. Perhaps I could choose words that could escalate his anxiety when answering.

However, it was clear that my captor is no amateur at this line of work.

"We have been watching you people for quite some time. Just now, you people were able to bring an unruly Danger Beast under your control. How did you do that?" His first question. Our method of subjugating Danger Beasts.

"We have our ways of doing so. We have members skilled in taming Danger Beasts and all we had to do was simply assist him." A white lie. I don't feel good revealing any sort of information about the Revolutionary Army, but I couldn't exactly be sure if he's aware whenever I lie. I'll test the waters with a white lie.

"So an Imperial Arm, is it?" his voice echoed back, nearly catching me off-guard. I ensured that I stilled my body, clenching my fists as I tried desperately to not flinch from his reply, yet be natural at the same time.

I was shocked, but looking at the facts objectively, this shock didn't last very long.

He had claimed he and his comrades have been monitoring us for a while. That would indicate that some form of information would have been passed had they been eavesdropping or simply just observing whenever we used the Imperial Arm. Even if that's the case, Imperials Arms isn't exactly uncommon knowledge. More people are aware of Imperial Arms than the existence of methods to tame Danger Beasts.

I'll use this as a test. He wouldn't outright kill me, and given how he is somewhat skilled, he should be aware of the situation he is in.

"Like I just said, it's n-" I didn't get to finish as his other hand gripped the back of my skull. My legs were simultaneously swept and in the next registered moment, I found my face pressed into the dirt. The impact rattled my brain against the insides of my skull, ensuring pain is the only response I received when thinking. Small pebbles of stone pressed painfully against my forehead and he made an extra effort to grind my face further into the dirt.

I stubbornly cling to my consciousness. I couldn't let this opportunity to discern possible enemies the Revolution might face in the future slip. Seconds later, the knife that had been pressing against me earlier was thrust straight into the dirt right beside my face.

I did everything I could to ignore the small trail of blood that ran down the edge of the knife. It seems a small wound had opened up somewhere on my face. A small pool of blood formed near to my eye as he then crashed his weight down on my back., his legs pressing down on my knees to prevent me from escaping.

The pain I felt was nothing compared to some of the wounds that I had received from war. As a veteran of war, gifts like stab wounds and even broken or missing limbs are very common. All of those injuries received help numb the sensation of open wounds and allowed me to cope with them better.

Though, even if I survive past this interrogation, I might have to worry about the bruise that would appear on my face. It's gonna be a pain dealing with some of the jest coming from my teammates because of said bruises.

"As I've said before, I'll be the one asking questions." This time, his jovial tone turned rough. In an instant, his emotions swung the other way and his irritation was made apparent through his voice, which had turned into a scowl that reminded those who hear it of the bandits that always threaten travelers on common travel routes.

I couldn't help but involuntary shudder. He has some skill and I might need to choose words more carefully. I wasn't very good at choosing words, something that I believe the numerous politicians or Generals would be much more well-versed in.

I gave him a small nod, signifying my willingness to comply.

"Good." His jovial atmosphere returned a second after I nodded, irritation subsiding rapidly as if his earlier tone was nothing but a past memory. "You should be thankful for how magnanimous I am. Normally hostages would have been killed off for such transgressions. Now, thank me!"

I remained silent. Whoever this person is, he isn't someone whom I can treat carelessly. He at least deserves some attention. If I had not had my fair share of eccentrics, I would have assumed that he was on the verge of insanity, held back by a thread of reason. His bipolar behavior from earlier was most probably an act of intimidation to unnerve me and an effective indicator that I had to be mindful of my words, treading carefully so as to not step on a landmine that could sway his action towards the unfavorable areas.

I've done negotiations before, something that was picked up when I broke my oath as a soldier serving under the Empire and chose to fight for the Revolution. Many of the villagers and bandit groups required a little more convincing, most of the time words for the former while usually accompanied by righteous "self-defense" for the latter. It shouldn't be too difficult for me, given that the person holding me hostage isn't too skilled. But before that, there's something I need to confirm.

"Well, no matter if you don't wish to thank me. A magnanimous person like me isn't really concerned if there isn't anyone singing praises of me." He started rambling to himself. That's good news for me. Hopefully, there's something in his words that I could use against him. Either a way out of this situation or something that would clue me in to his identity.

I turned my head sideways, away from the knife that is dangerously close to my head, hoping that I might be able to take a glance at his features.

His hand pressed down harder on my head, stopping my attempts at doing so. I could only click my tongue, both at the failed attempt and at the pain from the bruise he gave me when I was pushed down.

"While I appreciate you sticking to the 'No Questions' rule after your first mistake, I don't like it if you saw my face. You are a hostage, don't forget that. I could end your life if I so wished for it." He caught onto what I was trying to do.

There goes that plan. All that I was rewarded with was the common method of intimidation. Threats.

My actions did also reward me with clues. His voice was somewhat higher in volume. Not so loud as to echo in the location I was held hostage in, but enough to be noticeable. There was also no mistaking how his speech was somewhat faster now. That last verbal threat was said faster, as though he was impatient or desperate.

Could he be nervous?

"You must be well aware that my comrades are closer than you think, right?" I threw out some bait, hoping to catch anything that could be of use. "I am expected to return soon and if I were to be late, they might come looking for me."

He flinched. I can be certain now. My captor just flinched. The strength gripping down on my head slacks for just a moment. In that one moment, I received confirmation of my guesses.

This person who's pinning me down on the ground with a knife was nervous. He might be aware of how little time he has to press me for answers and resorted to this as the fastest way to obtain information, or he could-

I stopped that train of thought while it was still fresh. There was no need for any sort of conjecture. Regardless of his reasons, he was nervous. Nervousness coupled together with impatience. All I have to do now is just spin half-truths and delay for as long as possible until help arrives or if I were to escape when an opening appears.

"Comrades? You're saying that there are others nearby?" The bait I threw bore me a big catch. He should have been shaken by now. No matter how well he hides it, there is no doubt he is panicking right now.

I can exploit this.

His guess about the Imperial Arm might be surprising, but it was kind of common knowledge that everyone would fall back to these artifacts when anything bizarre happens that they could not explain. Once he slips up, I'll turn the tables on him and extract all possible information out of him, starting from his employer.

Not to brag, but I would say that I do great extracting information from prisoners. For most, you only need to give them what they want and they'll spill everything. For others, it's the opposite.

In this case, the person above me belongs to the former group. All I have to do is to give him a way out and he'll bite, no questions asked.

"Now, I don't know who you are and what you guys want, but if you release me, I could put in a good word to my comrades to not kill you when they come. Think about it, is it really worth having your own life lost because of a stranger whom you barely knew?"

"..." Silence. Good, this means he's thinking of his available options. Everything he did was so textbook that I suspect he might have been an amateur. Heck, he's not even keeping firm with his rule of no questions.

"And what's stopping me from killing you right here." After who knows how long, he finally spoke up. He must be seriously contemplating his options. There was no longer any trace of his initial jovial joy nor any of his 'serious business' attitude. All that had been swept away and replaced by the man pinning me down at knife-point, conflicted about his actions.

"If you kill me, you better hope none of my comrades are here to witness it or even manage to find my corpse. Once they do, they will stop at nothing to hunt you down. You'll live your life as a fugitive. Your name would be out on the streets with a fat bounty on it. Every time you cross the streets you're gonna have to watch your back for people who might be after you. Is this what you want?" I could feel him shake. The firm grip on my head was now loose. There was no longer any effort required from me to break out of his grasp. This man was so shaken that I doubt he's thinking straight. I could already feel him trembling above me.

All I had to do was wait for his surrender. The victory was already in my bag.

I can't risk having him do anything rash though. He still has a knife in his grasp and if he gets the wrong idea out of desperation, he might lash out and who knows what might happen to me. No reason having to risk my safety unnecessarily.

"We can let you go while guaranteeing your safety, but you have to answer some questions for us." The man was still shaking, evident from how his voice was trembling as well. God, I hope he's not the kind of coward that would piss themselves when they get intimidated too much. That would be nasty.

At least he still kept his wits. Instead of incurring a total loss as a team, he would try reaching for a compromise. He'll graciously accept this loss, but not without getting some information. Not a bad move.

There is only one correct answer to this.

"Sure, ask away."

"That earthquake, as well as the collapse of the surface. Did you guys cause that?"

I frowned in visible confusion/ he couldn't see my expression anyways so there was no need to hide. He did bring me precious intel though. An earthquake happened? Our teams had been spending a lot of time within the Labyrinth. Days if I were able to count the hours correctly.

During this period, an earthquake happened but we felt nothing?

I thought back a bit more. We had been hunting for Danger Beasts for the past few days. No doubt there was always the occasional rumble and collateral damage that happened whenever a stray Danger Beasts decided that a life of servitude isn't their thing. Adding in the fact that every Danger Beast was equipped with this mindset and it wasn't hard to imagine the damage we might have caused to the surface.

Perhaps, though it warrants a lot of further investigation, that earthquake he mentioned was a result of us trying to capture these Danger Beasts?

"Yes. That was us." I casually replied. No use thinking about it too much. Even if it is still merely a theory, it definitely works as more fuel to get him panicking. I'll use it to intimidate him further.

"I-Imp-possible! W-What are your p-plans? What do you intend to d-do?" So he has broken down. I could hear the knife clattering onto the ground as fear started gripping every word that came out of his mouth. Granted, that fear was in the form of his incoherent stuttering.

"Hahaha. You're scared of just this much? We aren't planning anything. Just fulfilling orders that the people above us gave. My guess is that they're trying to gain more pawns in the upcoming battles. Capturing Danger Beasts to use them to raise combat potential while crippling the Empire's supply of money. Two birds killed with one stone."

"B-But that suicide. You're m-madmen. T-The Empire's just gonna start taking you guys seriously. T-They're gonna send troops to where your base is. You're declaring war!" This guy is a riot. Just use the right words and he crumbles. Easy-peasy.

No wonder some of the guys in other divisions love tormenting people. I kind of get the appeal now. It certainly gives a feeling of sick satisfaction.

"Yes, that's what everyone expects would happen, yet they decided to proceed with the plan anyway. Up till now, the Empire treated us like a minor nuisance, so doing something like this would be akin to an official declaration of war. That'll force the Empire to finally start taking us seriously." I don't care if I'm giving out secrets anymore. This person's probably so broken that anyone who listens would think he has gone insane.

"B-B-But, t-that makes no sense!"

"It doesn't matter. The way I see it, no matter what actions the Empire takes, it's already too late. Whatever plans they might have are already too late." I continued blabbering secrets out like it's common knowledge. I might not be able to see how he looks, but I can be certain that he's already so beyond help that he might not recover from this. "There are other reasons why the Revolutionary Army situated themselves so far away from the Capital. All of our plans right from the start were to counter Esdeath. The location of the Headquarters, missions that every soldier took, the secrecy. All of it was to counter the one thing we can't hope to defeat individually."

"..." There was silence afterward. The only indication I knew that he was still alive and conscious was how he was still trembling. I waited, but nothing happened.

Maybe now is a good time to see how this clown looked. His reactions did well keeping me entertained.

"P-PHAHAHAHAHA!" Contrary to my expectations, laughter was not what I expected to hear. Unable to comprehend what I was hearing, I rose from my position on the ground, no longer caring if my captor was posing any sort of danger to me.

He was now laughing, not a single trace of fear nor any sign of being broken. He looked like a kid that was told a good joke and was unable to control his laughter nor his etiquette and was only laughing.

He laughed, no longer caring that I was now able to see his face, not that there was anything much to see. His face was half-covered in bandages. One of his hands was covered in those white bandages as well. He wore a simple brown coat, but I got the vague feeling that there were more bandages under his clothes. In my attempt in getting up, he was knocked back as he kept laughing on the ground.

This was also the moment that my reason caught up and I realized what had happened.

This person intentionally misled me, making me think that he was an amateur that didn't know what he was doing. He played me. Making me dance around the palm like a puppet while making me think that I was actually puppeteering him.

HE PLAYED ME!

What mirth I've had in me turned into wrath. I was unable to contain the seething anger that now boils inside of me. What should have been fear at this person's capabilities was now turned into anger.

HOW DARE HIM! HOW DARE HE PLAY ME FOR A FOOL!

I picked up the knife that he had dropped. I was no longer thinking straight to consider that he could have any sort of defense in place to deal with me. How could he have any? He was still controlled by his laughter on the ground, defenseless and helpless without any sort of weapon to defend himself with.

I took a step towards him, ignoring his laughter. That step turned into a run and soon I was trying to close the distance between us.

The keyword here was 'trying'.

After taking the first step in my run, I collapsed onto the ground, unable to move a single muscle. I could only try to writhe on the ground, trying to move and maim the person before me who was still laughing at me.

Pain now exploded into existence as I struggled to withstand it.

It was a sickening feeling, being unable to move an inch yet being in constant pain. I could reflexively cringe in pain to make the pain bearable through motion. All I could do was take it in stride as I tried desperately to stay conscious.

I cannot go down like this. Not like this. There has to be someone nearby that can exact revenge for me. Someone, anyone! Anyone who can maim this sick bastard before me while he's still laughing.

My prayers were not heard. All I could see were the bodies of my unconscious men. All of which were scattered around the vicinity. There was no sign of anyone else but the 2 of us.

Where are his comrades? The ones who should be here with him.

Finally, after quite a bit of time had passed while I was agonizing helplessly at the excruciating pain, this sick bastard started to come down from his laughter. Tears were evident in his single unobstructed eye. He glanced at my sprawled form on the ground, his expressions seemed as though they were mocking me.

I growled, but it did not come out as intended. I was still paralyzed. Every muscle in my body seems to have frozen up and decided to not respond to any of my movements.

WHY? WHY CAN'T I MOVE? WHY CAN'T I MAIM HIM WHEN HE'S RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME!

"You must be wondering why you're unable to move. That's really simple actually. If you are as smart as you think you are, I'm sure you can't figure it out, among the other mysteries that surround me and my methods. But, I'll give them to you as a gift for our first meeting. It is customary to give gifts to anyone whom you meet once and enjoy their company."

I'm sure I could have figured it out. The answer was clear as day. It was so simple. However, in my rage-filled mind, I couldn't reach the answer. I couldn't draw any conclusion. My mind was looping in circles, unable to accept the reality that this sociopath before me got the best of me. I was still in rage at this sick bastard before me.

I kept struggling to cling to consciousness. It was sad in a way, but it seems I got used to this state of constant pain. If I were to pass out, then nobody would ever know of this sick bastard. Nobody would believe my words that a person like this ever existed. Nobody would be aware of the danger this bastard poses. All of this, among the other considerations in my mind that seem to be less important than my personal vengeance wishing to be handed to him.

"The answer was… 'The Knife'!" this bastard continued his showy taunts, mocking me continuously at my foolishness. "Yep, that's right. This knife was coated with neurotoxins to induce paralysis. Due to the cut on your face I inflicted, the dosage that entered your bloodstream was small. However, due to the location of where the cut was, specifically your face, it wouldn't take long for the neurotoxin to act, damaging your nerve tissues and brain cells that carry signals to the rest of your bodies."

I digested what he said, but I don't care. Still trapped under my state of anger, I was still focusing on everything I had to move and maim this bastard before me.

"Too technical? It just means that the knife is poisoned and you're now paralyzed." He continued mocking me. I know how it works, dammit. I just can't respond because I am paralyzed.

"I'm sure you're also wondering, 'Why am I stuck in this state while you are so high and mighty and fabulous?' The answer is also quite simple." This bastard continues mocking me. "Normally, I would have provided you with a lecture. However, I am pressed for time so I'll have to summarise."

I gave him a death stare, warning him from continuing with his words.

"This is just an unorthodox method of interrogation. It was never anything else." As he said those words, he plunged the knife that I was about to use to maim him into my arm.

Did he just…

THIS BASTARD. I'LL KILL HIM. MARK MY WORDS, I'LL Kill hi…

I couldn't finish those words. Not when the pain became so unbearable that whatever hold I had on my consciousness slipped. I couldn't keep myself anymore. My final image in my field of vision was the sick bastard walking away from me, picking up the boy whom I had stolen from earlier.

Goddammit.

…

{Third Person's Perspective, Bottom of the Labyrinth}

His hands pressed against the pommel of the sheathed katana, ensuring that the lump of metal kept within an odd-length cylinder would not slip out of its resting place. Blade continued running down the Labyrinth, exerting more strength in his legs as he sprinted and leaped over obstacles in the terrain he currently traverses.

More than once was there some random obstacle in the way of his pursuit. Most of the time it was the walking corpses, a product of Tatsumi's unknowing misuse of his Imperial Arm. A clear indication that his Imperial Arm was never under his control despite how much he thinks he had it controlled. There was also the occasional person wishing to stand in his way, and most of the time he dealt with them swiftly. A good knock to their temples and they're unconscious and bleeding. They'll live, but it would take them quite some time to recover.

A fitting penance for their actions.

Blade allowed the annoyance to slip through onto his features. Blade was a man with no emotions and carried himself as such. Occasionally, his emotions would slip through those barriers he has maintained in his expressions. To his annoyance, these cases started becoming more frequent.

It was taxing enough that his trail towards Tatsumi had to be filled with these annoyances, but it was the best guide to his destination.

He allowed idle curiosities to slip into his mind, pondering about the nature of Tatsumi's Imperial Arm. Tatsumi had no prior experience with his Imperial Arm before being inducted into the team. There had been no situations where he had to reanimate corpses, nor was he aware of his ability to do so. While it is believable that he couldn't control his Imperial Arm perfectly, it brings about one big question.

Who was reanimating those corpses?

Better question: How had he unknowingly come across such a volatile Imperial Arm?

Blade terminated his line of thoughts as he drew his katana, its blade snaking through the air to cut the space behind him in one single, fluid motion.

Engrossed in his thoughts, Blade had not noticed a presence sneaking up behind him. He mentally rebukes himself for being careless. Realizing that his katana had only cut air, he withdraws his katana and skids to a halt in the direction of the presence he felt. His blade rested back in his sheathe, poised for the next strike.

To all observers who witnessed his sword, Blade's sword could only be described as a smooth stream of water cutting through the air. It would flow gently from its position to its destination. Anything in between would be cut, and no resistance would be left. His blade snaked out of his sheathe, this time propelled by compressed air flowing through the katana.

"Ahahaha. That was close. You would've killed someone else had it not been for me being here."

Contrary to his expectations, the blade of his katana was stopped. 2 fingers pressed down on both flat sides of the blade, fixing it solidly in place. It couldn't even budge. There was no obstacle to cut in its way. It was simply trapped and couldn't move.

Internalizing what had happened, Blade clicked his tongue in frustration before he withdrew his katana.

"I would have been fine with taking you out at the very least." he emotionlessly uttered under his breath. His azure eyes trained themselves onto Oda, making sure to take note of his every move.

His eyes then shifted to the person Oda had been carrying.

Tatsumi. Unconscious. Tucked under his arm like some sort of baggage.

"How's the kid?"

"He's fine. Roughed up and unconscious, but he'll live. No visible injuries and not requiring any sort of immediate medical attention after a preliminary assessment of his condition. Which reminds me. Where did you find this kid?"

"I didn't find him. Hikari did. Said he was the student of an old acquaintance of his."

"Is that so? I see." Oda muttered under his breath. "In any case, we should start heading to the surface. The others down there are gonna start coming after us if we don't. The only pursuers that I would allow myself to be caught by are the pretty ladies of high society. Best if they're willing to introduce their friends into the mix." Oda cheerfully remarked before dashing off towards a direction he presumed was the exit.

There was no need to reply to his idle comments. They never meant anything. Start to react to any of them, or worse, believe them and you're on a one-way trip towards a miserable end crafted by yourself.

Blade stared back in the direction Oda came from. Flickering lights could be seen in the distance and they are slowly approaching. He turned and headed after Oda, careful to keep a loose distance from him.

"That reminds me. While we're on the topic of attractive pursuers, I received an interesting tip from our little rats. Not really worth anything to them but they thought to let me know just in case." Oda spoke once he was confident that Blade was in the range of hearing his words. "A pair of individuals were asking around. Interested to scour any information that they could provide about their lost sibling. They stumbled into a particular city in one of the southern cities in the Empire a couple of weeks ago."

Blade only stared ahead, looking in the direction of their destination.

"Willing to give a handsome tip for any solid intel regarding their missing little brother. One was a fair lady with the voice of an angel while the other was a fearless young man with his heart on his sleeves. Siblings, the both of them. Everyone who laid eyes on them commented on their matching shade of blue hair and eyes. Azure blue. The rats even gave me their family names. Interested to know more?"

The jovial attitude Oda wore like an accessory was now scrubbed off. Forcefully removed. He allowed a pause in their conversations before he took a small glance towards Blade.

If anyone else was present to see his face, they would have seen a rare sight. For the first time, emotions blossomed onto his face like wild vegetation in an abandoned field. For the briefest of moments, that mask of minimal emotions was broken. Shattered like stained glass brought against a sledgehammer. At that moment, all emotions poured out like water in a dam. An assortment of emotions and feelings gushed out, having been repressed for the longest of times.

Nostalgia, happiness, relief, sadness, grief, pain, melancholy, disgust, fear, pride, love, hate. All foreign emotions to him that he had not felt in a long time. They mixed together into an abomination of emotions that appeared on his features.

"It seems you realized who they are." Oda sighed at his antics, watching as Blade picked himself up once more and once more placed all of his motions back into the deepest corners of his psyche. In a moment, the mask was patched and he was back to his usual self. "My rats say they have moved on. They will be arriving in our town in a couple of days."

Oda slowed his steps, allowing Blade to catch up with him.

Blade glanced over to Oda and was greeted with an emotionless void far surpassing his own. His gaze latched onto his entire being, consuming the remnants of his emotions. He was unable to look away.

"Takanashi. This is an order from your former superior." Oda whispered, only loud enough for Blade to hear. "You are to disappear. I do not care where you go. As long as it's not here, it is permitted. Ensure you are not found nor caught and return to your post in the Capital within the next few months when the situation blows over. You are to, under no circumstance whatsoever, whether intentional or otherwise, reveal yourself to your siblings, or to anyone who might have a firm grasp of your relationship with them and would reveal your whereabouts to them. You cannot meet them, especially not in the state that you are currently in. I'll throw them off your scent should they come looking for you and I'll also take over your duties in regards to Tatsumi during this period of time. I will send him back when he recovers."

"..." Blade said nothing, unable to even utter a reply to the order. Thousands of things are going through his head.

When the moment passed, Oda's lackadaisical cheerfulness returned. "Cheer up. You decided to run away from them. You decided they were unnecessary to your future growth. You understand that even meeting them would waste all of the efforts you invested over the past years. Going back to them, no matter the reason or circumstance, would not be an answer. It would simply be an escape from your circumstance."

Blade continued his silence throughout the rest of the way back to the surface. By the time the entourage emerged from the depths of the labyrinth, Blade was long gone. Any traces of his person were removed, any witness who remembers him would have long forgotten about him. The only evidence lies in the testimonies of the revolutionaries he came into contact with, who were able to escape from the city unnoticed.

The revolutionaries, and Tatsumi. Who remained unconscious for weeks after the events occurring in the city, watched constantly by a girl capable of shape-shifting.

...

{Chelsea's Perspective; Scout of the First Surface Team}

I continued my pursuit of the frustratingly emotionless man.

Curse him, making me run in this small form of a cute creature.

My body was… compressed to fit the form of a Fire-Fox pup. There was no other way to explain it. It doesn't hurt, but no method of explanation could explain how a grown woman could fit into a form more than several times less than her current size.

As for why I chose this frustratingly small form, it was the best I could come up with to ensure I am not a bloody mush under tonnes of rubble. It is also small and somewhat faster than an average person and would not allow me to be detected easily. No one would ever suspect that the small and cute little Fire-Fox pup. You thought it was an unsuspecting Fire-Fox pup? It was actually me, Chelsea!

That and I look criminally cute in my current form. Took me ages to perfect this form of mine. Invested so much of my spare time and breaks between missions just to practice in the mirror.

Back to my current circumstance. I was chasing after that emotionless freak. Sometime during the chase, he encountered the corpses of some of my comrades walking around.

Can you imagine? Dead people walking.

Anyways, he cut them down, continued running. Anytime something appeared he cut them down. Walking corpses, Danger Beasts, other comrades in the Revolutionary, and sometimes other adventurers. He didn't exactly kill the living people, but he did do enough damage to render them unconscious. Seriously, does he not know that a hit to the head with a blunt object is enough to achieve the same effect?

Getting off-topic. He met up with his acquaintance. A freak of a person wearing bandages as accessories.

Why was he a freak? I am a firm believer that some people have abilities that far surpass others, but this was on a level that just wasn't normal. It was so devilishly freaky that the moment he looked at me in my current form, he sported a shit-eating smirk that pretty much says that I might have been found out. Sure, there was no evidence that this bandaged freak could be aware of my secrets, but there was nothing to prove otherwise as well. That and he was wearing bandages even though he was not injured.

Ahh, why do the freaks have to hang out together?

But all that didn't matter. What mattered was the unconscious boy this bandaged freak was carrying. I followed them, noticing that these were the groups of people that must have been causing all sorts of trouble and nuisance for my teams when we were situated here weeks ago.

Of course, this decision came with its own personal set of paranoia. During the course of them getting to the surface, that bandaged freak glanced at my position every time and simply sneered. And every time he did I changed positions to somewhere else, only to be caught every time without any sort of visible effort. I had to check my make-up several times as well before I realized every time that my Imperial Arm is flawless in its job of disguise. It doesn't just stop working unless I want it to. I get the chills every time he looks in my direction.

Damn this living mummy, finding amusement at my expense. I would have already stormed off had it not been for the 2 things that caught my interest. It's worse that he doesn't have any openings. What sort of freak of a person has no openings in their posture or stance?

No, he does have openings. It's just that these openings are so blatantly obvious you'll assume they're traps, and that's what frustrates me.

I continue to keep that respectful distance we have been having while I tail them.

One of them disappeared while I was playing this game of… something with the living mummy. Ahh, I'm so thrown off that I can't even think properly.

Back to topic. That emotionless freak was long gone, vanished when I had taken my eyes off of him. I am still super peeved about that, considering how I was bested in a game that I should have been unrivaled in, especially since I have been trained by the infamous group of assassins, Oarburgh.

That leaves the last reason why I'm still following them. Namely, the unconscious boy.

Directing my attention to the person he was carrying, I tried my hardest to suppress nostalgia welling up in me.

How long has it been since I last saw a familiar face? Especially one from back when I was still in training. After Oarburgh was gone, I had lost contact with a lot of people. All are either dead or missing. It was a relief that I was eventually inducted as a member of the Revolution, but none of them were really familiar to me. We're all just comrades, colleagues to be even more specific.

How long has it been since I last saw him?

…

{?'s Perspective, A Forgotten Memory}

Running.

I kept running. The last group of pursuers was much tougher than I thought. I had severely underestimated their abilities. It seems they had decided that I am enough of a threat to send dolls of somewhat higher than average combat potential. An upgrade from the useless tools they keep sending and just as, if not more troublesome than them.

Kinda makes me feel important now. To think that I was considered to even be a threat enough for them to send higher quality dolls. It would not be long until they decided to send something higher on the list of disposable assets.

I can only pray whatever weapons I could get my hands on at the moment I fight them would suffice. I shudder to think what would happen if it wasn't, even more so when I realize that my entire future depends heavily on it.

Enough distractions. I need to escape further away from here. Those dolls wouldn't go down so easily. Hardly anything could scratch them. Sure they're still gonna bleed when cut, but they would just ignore them to keep their eyes on their goals. In this case: me.

Their sheer will allows them to ignore pain, their stubbornness allows them to defy death, their lack of emotions allows them to remain calm in every circumstance and their training only serves to strengthen all their previous traits.

In short, a tool with the capacity to think to some extent.

Dolls.

Cutting their limbs didn't work. Removing their heads didn't work. Crushing their hearts didn't work. They just got back up, repaired each other, and continued their chase.

The only method of killing them, I concluded, would be to liquefy their bodies or something of a similar nature. As long as every part of their bodies would be rendered too damaged to repair it back to optimal conditions. Since I lack the means for that sort of damage, I could only cut them apart every time they came.

The only good thing was that repairing themselves requires time. Enough time was needed for me to run away and recover from the injuries they dealt. It didn't help that they would eventually adapt to my form of healing and start leaving wounds that are increasingly difficult to heal.

I attempted to suppress a grunt coming out of my mouth as I painstakingly pulled out a piece of sharp metal from within my chest. One piece less from my body.

I scrutinized it closely before throwing it away. Nothing noteworthy about it. It only does its job of debilitating my healing until I could pry it out of my body.

Once my flesh closed, I gingerly moved my body and winced when every other area of my body started creaking in pain, staining my bloodied shirt. It did allow me to know which part of my body I should be working on next if there was any boon to mention.

The next time those dolls catch up to me might very well be my last, seeing how vicious their last few rounds of assaults had been. I need to get as far away as I possibly can. Yet, my body can only run so far with so many injuries sustained on my body.

Perhaps I underestimated them too much. It seems they had a plan from the start instead of just improvising their strategy after every encounter. If that is the case, I need to make amendments.

Drastic amendments. Something along the lines of getting caught just so I could better determine their arsenal of weapons. A risky move, but one that gives me the highest chance of getting away from them.

I took a moment to scoff at the irony in my plans.

The faint rustling of leaves nearby did its job of freezing my motions and placed my attention on full alert. I crouched low, making sure that my figure could be camouflaged in the surrounding bushes. I readied my weapon - a small all-purpose knife that I carried with me when I swiped it from one of the dolls who got careless in my previous battle. That doll was one of the few that got taken out really early on in the battle.

It would not do me any good against the dolls, but it does serve as a weapon of self-defense.

I waited, eyes peeking through the tiny cracks in between the rustling leaves as the knife in my hands twitched ever so slightly in anticipation. Another fight might erupt just a few moments from now. The only difference between this one and the previous few are the supposed outcomes. All previous fights are somewhat easier, utilizing the element of surprise to launch attacks that would catch my enemies unaware.

With each subsequent battle, the difficulty rises. Enemies grew bolder, equipped with knowledge of my attacks, familiarised with my numerous habits and patterns in battle. Injuries became harder to heal, and attacks are much more vicious when said injuries are known to linger.

Difficulty rose to the point where I might not be capable enough to overcome the next. Where luck becomes the only factor that determines the outcome.

My body tensed, my gaze sharpened, my senses heightened.

My knife was poised.

I calmed the approaching storm inside of my mind as I expanded my senses to my surroundings, allowing me an awareness of every movement around me.

Disregarding the trivial movements of the leaves rustling against the wind and the occasional animal sounds, a single movement caught my attention.

Careful footsteps gently landing upon withered leaves. A soft crackling could be heard as the leaves are no longer able to withstand the pressure.

Someone was moving towards my previous location.

The only oddity of the situation was why there was only one person.

Keeping my body close to the ground, I charged towards my target once they were close enough.

The flash of light reflected off the blade of my knife was directed into my target's eyes, ensuring her momentary blindness. I held back a sigh as the blade of my knife traveled through the air and inserted itself into the back of my target's neck effortlessly. Her eyes slowly lost their shine as she struggled to stanch the wound, and eventually, before her body slumped onto the ground as the blood squirting out of the ruptured artery got too excessive.

I stared at the corpse for several seconds before I-

" Get up." I barked out emotionlessly towards a particular lifeless corpse on the ground. The corpse didn't move for several moments.

Once more, I sighed as I readied my knife in reverse grip before plunging it towards the corpse.

"WAIT!" A timely shriek from the corpse stopped my knife just before it went into her chest, right above where her heart would be.

"PLEASE WAIT!" she yelled, panicking as she raised her empty hands upwards. "I SURRENDER!"

"Shut up." I dragged out my words, making sure to convey how displeased I am with my tone. I moved away from her, the knife still trained on her figure in the event she tries anything funny. "You're attracting unnecessary attention."

I studied her features. Long auburn hair freely flowed to her waist. Her fringes were kept neat with some of the clips within her hair. A white long-sleeved dress shirt underneath a black vest with red accents, a checkered mini-skirt, and a thin red string tied into a ribbon underneath her collar completed her outfit. What stands out was her red headphones placed around her ears, most probably to protect her hearing.

My eyes then moved to the neck wound. What should have been a fatal wound was casually hung on her body like it was painted. She doesn't seem to be as affected by the wound, judging from how both of her hands were raised instead of pressing against the wound, and how she wasn't wincing in pain at the wound.

Curious, I sniffed the air around and the intoxicating smell of roses permeated the air. A thick scent. It explains why she wasn't dead.

Perfume. Or a peculiar application of it. It was perhaps what she used to trick amateurs into thinking she was dead. I would at least acknowledge her efforts in putting up such a show. Her mastery of such an ability at a young age was impressive.

It might become more convincing in the future, should she continue to develop her skills.

The only thing that gave away her act relied on the experience of her audience. I had some experience in the craft of killing, how it feels to have my weapon hit against the body of another. What her performance lacked was the real feeling of flesh being cut, the subtle resistance of flesh as it was cut apart.

There was no such feeling when my knife sliced into her neck.

" Kid, didn't your parents tell you that it's rude to stare at a woman's body?" she teased, a foxy smile manifesting itself upon her lips.

It seems my gaze lingered on her for too long.

"..." I didn't bother replying to her. There are more important things I have to do than flirt.

With a metaphorical wheel in the back of my mind turned, I started recollecting. This girl before me seems to possess more genuine emotions than those dolls pursuing me. Furthermore, I do not recall seeing her within the ranks of those dolls.

There are several explanations for who she could be. The simplest deduction to make is that she is a passer-by. Someone who was in this location by pure chance. There are other explanations, but none of them are valid due to the evidence I have gathered from her.

Firstly, there is a lack of other dolls congregating in her location. At a minimum, dolls always come in pairs. Each covers the other's weaknesses. If you find one of them, chances are that a second one is lurking nearby. When their target is located, all of the dolls nearby would be somehow alerted and every one of them would be moving towards their target.

Secondly, she would not have needed to scream just now. Dolls are capable of communicating with each other discreetly and her scream from earlier would have been unnecessary if she was to attract the attention of her comrades. To those unaware of their capabilities, they would be assuming they are communicating through telepathy.

Finally, dolls are never patient. There are many instances earlier where she could have attacked me instead of just talking with me. There have been many cases earlier where those dolls willingly received my attacks if it meant creating an opening. They could be considered suicidal if you have no knowledge of their unnatural healing.

In conclusion, the girl before me is either a passer-by or she is a higher-ranked operative than those dolls.

However, the latter conclusion could already be disproved.

Why?

That's because the dolls have caught up to me. That and how she's looking at her surroundings with a confused gaze explained everything.

I sighed.

"I recommend putting all of your efforts into escaping." I decided to throw her a bone and clued her of her current predicament. I could see the steel in her eyes as she readied her body. One of her hands dropped into the pouch that hangs around her waist.

It seems she is no stranger to the sights before us. I can use this.

" These guys around us are after me," I noted how her eyes darted to mine for an instant before settling on her surroundings again. She seems to be absorbing every word that came out of my mouth. I was unsuccessful in withholding an amused smirk that inched across my face. It slowly twisted into a bloodthirsty grin as I readied myself for the impending battle.

"And they do not take well to outsiders that wander into their hunts."

…

{Najenda's Perspective; Captain of Night Raid; Headquarters of the Revolutionary Army}

I paced myself as I got closer to the center of the camp every soldier of the Revolution called their headquarters. Oddly, it was located right next to a nest of tamed Air-Mantas, a species of Danger Beast that many would have considered dangerous due to their aerial mobility as well as their immense size. Fortunately, it is a very neutral Danger Beasts. That is to say that it would not go around provoking unnecessary aggression and would only attack when it feels threatened. These Danger Beasts are easily found gliding around the skies of territories untouched by man, basking under the sun.

Insider information amongst the Generals within the Revolution state that the Danger Beasts were not controlled via Imperial Arm, but merely through the minimal everyday interactions between man and Danger Beast. It was a blessing that none of the soldiers were trigger-happy and started attacking them when they had first arrived to set up a temporary stronghold. It was only until one of the soldiers whose hometown at a village nearby started interacting with the Air-Mantas that the Generals developed an interest in taming them for the purpose of transportation and swift deployments. It eventually became a critical factor in deciding the location of what would eventually become the headquarters of the Revolutionary Army.

All of this happened before Imperial Arms specialized in taming or controlling Danger Beasts landed in our hands.

It was also a stroke of luck that the location of the headquarters was not moved past the Empire's southern borders. The Southern Territories was a harsh landscape of sand dunes and Danger Beasts that lies beneath. Travelers crossing those dunes are rare, and no merchant within the Empire would expand their business past those dunes. There is the occasional Oasis, but most were dominated by either nomadic tribes or bandits. It also doesn't help to know that the nation that lies within those sand dunes does not take outsiders very well. The merchants from the Southern Territories always peddle exotic goods at exorbitant prices and usually, the Nobles from surrounding lands near the border would rush to buy such goods. It was a form of their greedy indulgence.

It was now the second day of my stay at headquarters. I intend to stay at the headquarters for only a few days. While it could be taken as a leave of some sort from my mission, I could hardly relax. The atmosphere was always insufferable and people only came to headquarters unless ordered to. No one would want to return to a stressful environment to make themselves more stressed than usual.

The only relaxing moment was the travel from the Capital to my current location. Traveling from the capital requires 3 days, and this was using horse-drawn carriages. I already wish to head back the moment I arrived. However, as I seldom return to Headquarters, the other Generals wish for me to attend meetings so as to better coordinate future operations of Night Raid with the objectives of the Revolution. They also did not take too kindly as to why Night Raid had suspended all operations within the Capital and decided to lay low.

There's also that blue light pillar that had emerged some nights before my departure and the discovery that certain dangerous individuals had re-emerged onto the playing field for unknown reasons.

Ahh, how troublesome.

I fitted my metallic appendage into its usual position. Once it was properly adjusted to my body, I flexed my metal fingers and made some test punches before I was satisfied. Losing my dominant hand back when I had defected had taken a lot of adjusting, and most of the harder parts happened before a suitable prosthetic arm was obtained.

I picked up the suit that I had hung on the back of a nearby chair, draping it over my shoulders before heading outside.

When I had arrived yesterday, an escort had already been arranged and I was briefed on the venue and timing of the meeting that I was asked to attend. I was also updated on information that I needed to know before being shown towards my temporary lodgings.

I would say that the quality of sleep that I now enjoyed thus far had been ruined on my first night here. That stressful atmosphere was still present and no amount of cotton pillows or soft mattresses could fix it.

The only good thing about my stay here was how empty my schedule seemed before and after the meeting. That allowed me room to do whatever I wanted so long I would not be late for the meeting.

With a specific destination in mind, I proceeded to enjoy the sights and sounds on the way.

The headquarters of the Revolutionary Army looked more like a Fortress City now. Soldiers could be seen at every turn, merchants and civilians are also commonplace, operating businesses and jobs that are too administrative to leave in the hands of capable soldiers.

There are also several bars and brothels located at several locations. What should have been a stronghold turned into a city over time? Every now and then, a few volunteers and defectors would show up at the gates seeking asylum, and every time this happened new accommodation needed to be built. With more people appearing, merchants and small businesses started showing up, offering goods and services in exchange for gold coins. It still doesn't change the fact that tents are still in use.

At least morale was high. Unusually high.

I headed to what could be regarded as a hospital. It was located far inside the heart of Headquarters, far away from the walls. Its architecture consists of small brick houses joined together to form a large building. Hastily built, but would be capable of housing enough patients unless a full-scale war was to erupt.

I marveled at the architecture before heading through the front door. Before being assigned to the Capital as the Leader of Night Raid, the medical office had just been a bunch of tents clustered together within the camp. Back then, special tags were attached to the top of the tents to denote what it was housing. A few years later and now there are now actual structures meant to house essential services.

It remains a mystery to me why the medical bay being situated within a building when most of the barracks, offices, and posts of the soldiers and generals are still in tents that seem to break or leak every time a heavy storm passes through.

Or maybe it was just me having been away for too long that I wasn't aware of the arrangements. To be fair, I never did ask anyone nor was I bothered to. It didn't seem like a very big issue to address.

While musing in my thoughts, my legs had brought me to one of the beds. I cleared my thoughts and let my eyes wander around the room. Fresh flowers were placed at his bedside, probably by some of the nurses that tend to the patients. A pity that he wasn't awake to enjoy them. He might have appreciated it.

Comatose. That was what the doctor attending to Bulat had mentioned about his current state. According to Lubbock, during their fight against Esdeath's Three Beasts, Bulat had over-used Incursio and he was forced to suffer a backlash in the form of great mental trauma. Counting the physical trauma he had endured from his opponents, it was only natural he had succumbed to his injuries. It was a miracle, brought about by his mental fortitude and the impressive work of the doctors and countless medical personnel that had prevented death from claiming him.

Currently, his Imperial Arm, the [Demon Armor: Incursio], sits within the armory. The Generals are still befuddled over who the next wielder would be. Naturally, any wielder of Incursio would be a key military asset; capable of matching against countless men, able to cloak itself from view, and the armor could evolve itself to remove its existing weaknesses as well as boost existing abilities. They can be considered a one-man army and could help turn the tides of any battle, especially those that are proven vital in the coming months.

The only issue is the nature of Imperial Arms. They wouldn't just accept any compatible person it comes across. Researchers from the Advanced Research Foundation had once provided a theory. They claimed most Imperial Arms are semi-sentient and telepathic in nature to draw compatible wielders towards it. Anyone else it deems as unsuitable would suffer rejection mostly in the form of death. Autopsies conducted indicate that the deceased usually experienced intense mental stress and physical pain prior to their deaths, resulting in the failure of their mental capabilities. Those that do survive the rejection are seen to have developed abject fear towards the Imperial Arm as well as behavioral changes that could be concluded as schizophrenic. Those that recover are seen to have only done so due to prolonged distancing from the Imperial Arm. However, there are cases where subjects that had been declared as recovered broke down once they laid eyes on said Imperial Arm.

Considering what had been discovered about Imperial Arms, many of the Generals are highly apprehensive towards having volunteers testing their compatibility.

Incursio, in particular, has been known to be more selective in choosing its wielder. The only known safest method of testing compatibility involves the previous user. Since the current wielder would be attuned to the Imperial Arm, they can be used to find out the next compatible wielder. However, Bulat is currently in a comatose state and could no longer cooperate in finding another suitable wielder. There was also no particular person that he had mentioned was suitable to inherit Incursio. The only method left to the other Generals would be to wait for whoever Incursio had called to make their way to the Imperial Arm.

"Ah, General Najenda. I see you're a bleeding heart as always."

I snapped my head towards the source, directing a deadpan stare as I did so.

"At least I'm not a cold-blooded doctor."

"A sharp tongue as always." The head doctor of the Medical Office mockingly grasped his stomach as though he had been physically stabbed by words, even going as far as to make an exaggerated reaction.

I ignored his reaction completely, unwilling to humor him. He took it in stride and did not complain.

Several moments of silence passed between us, and it was broken by a recurring question.

"Is there no way to wake him up faster?"

This was not the first time I have raised the question.

The first time I remembered asking this question was when one of the Doctors gave me a verbal assessment of Bulat's condition. They had claimed he was in a comatose state due to mental trauma, and waking him up would be next to impossible unless the person himself wishes to wake up.

Ever since then, this question has plagued my mind endlessly during my stay. Concerns regarding a trusted subordinate that has fought by your side through countless hardships are the hardest to rid yourself of. It's worse when you don't want to rid yourself of this feeling that dwells inside you.

All that remains is an emptiness that slowly eats away inside you. Emptiness stemmed from the knowledge that one of the few people whom you placed your trust in to watch your back is no longer there to do that.

"Not unless you want to impede his recovery," The Head Doctor answered swiftly, as though he was used to such questions and already prepared standard answers for such occasions. "However long that may take."

In conclusion, it is up to Bulat when he wants to wake up and return to active duty.

Letting out a sigh, I moved my prosthetic arm towards my pockets and fished out my cigarette box. Having a smoke now might help soothe my mind against the oncoming headaches that would be brought about by the upcoming meeting.

"I would prefer if you smoke elsewhere. There are designated spots to do so after all. These are patients after all and fumes from cigarettes would be detrimental to their recovery. That and we don't want you to start a fire in a patient's room."

"I'm sure my smoke might help him wake up faster. Familiar scents and sounds have proven to work against coma patients."

"There are other patients in the room." One simple sentence quashed the other rebuttals I had come up with. Annoyed, I scowled before placing them back into my pockets.

The doctor simply chuckled, seemingly pleased over his victory.

"For the foreseeable future, he would be kept in the Medical Office and kept on life support to aid his recovery. Whenever he wakes up, I'm sure the higher-ups would send word."

"I was there when they announced his condition to me. I don't need you to tell me things that they had already mentioned." I withheld the urge to declare my victory as my sharp remarks elicited a genuine flinch from the doctor this time.

I kept my eyes on my subordinate's resting form. His expression looked really serene, lacking any form of the usual edge that he carried on his face. Every one of my subordinates has their personal method of readying themselves for a fight. There are multiple signs that they exhibit that serve as a trigger for when they need to be ready for anything.

Bulat would tense up his brows, Leone would ball both her hands into fists, Mein would fiddle with her hair, Sheele would acquire steel in her gaze, Lubbock would adjust his gloves, Akame would use a word.

All of it would last nothing more than a second and would smoothly transition them into a combat-ready state. Having been accustomed to those expressions of theirs, it was rather disturbing when they lost it completely. Even when they rested during breaks on some mission, their expressions never differed too much from their usual ones. To have that edge completely removed from their faces is something I would never become familiarized with.

The good doctor remained silent as I brooded. Choosing no words that would break apart whatever thoughts I have formed within the confines of my mind.

"A part of me wonders if things would have been different if I had played my cards better," I spoke up after some form of silence starting to permeate the surface of the room. "Especially since Bulat had to be removed from front-line duties after his most recent assignment."

"Untimely, I would assume." The doctor replied, analytical and cold.

"Very much so. Ever since I had found out that I had stirred a hornet's nest, I couldn't help but wonder if there had been options I could have taken to better secure Bulat's safety. Granted, he was not injured by who I was referring to, but his combat abilities were a valuable asset that would have made things easier. Maybe then he might have been alive and I would have one more man out on the field that I could utilize."

The doctor said nothing as he continued staring out at the blue sky past the open window, listening to my ramblings and complaints.

"Najenda. Do you know why I am now the Head Doctor?" This cheeky old man dared answer my questions with another.

I turned my gaze towards him once again. The answer was just too obvious.

"Because there wasn't anyone left with the medical knowledge and experience that you possessed," I replied with the most practical answer. There has been an abundance of reports from front-line teams and even within headquarters that reflected the lack of adequately trained medical personnel. More often than not, they are always the first casualties in any sort of conflict on any occasion. Soldiers are expendable on the battlefields, but doctors are a rare breed. It takes more time to train a doctor than to train a soldier. Give anyone a gun and a direction and you have yourself a soldier. Doctors, however, can't be trained that way. Doctors needed to learn about everything crucial within the human body. They needed to know what must be done in any specific situation and usually, such knowledge comes from the experience attained when being trained under a much more experienced doctor.

"You're not wrong. Every other doctor died off in some battlefield out on the frontlines while I was part of the lucky ones left that didn't die due to a stray projectile or being caught in an ambush with a sword stuck in my chest as the only outcome," The doctor let out a sardonic chuckle as he continued his long string of words. "However, you aren't completely right either."

His eyes throughout this conversation had been affixed to the blue skies outside of the window. An expression akin to melancholy washed over his features as he remained inside his thoughts for several moments before his mouth finally moved, and formed words in a tone so soft that I would have assumed that he had been contemplating whether or not to say them.

"It's simply because, throughout all of the countless fights against the numberless soldiers sent by the Empire and having seen countless soldiers sent my way to receive medical aid dying to something as minor as an infected wound simply because there hasn't been enough equipment or time to treat it, I had not lost hope." I leveled my gaze towards the doctor, who had now decided that whatever sky he had been looking at moments before no longer concerned him as he turned to face me.

Without giving me a chance to retort how cheesy his answer sounds, he continued on. "Back when we first met, I was still relatively new. I was young and wanted to be part of the Revolution. Sure, it was nice knowing we were doing what we considered right, but what I wanted more than that was the action.

I wanted to be at the heart of the action, to be fighting lines and lines of enemies and acquire glory for myself. I am from a family of doctors, people who spend their life honing the art of saving people. Sure, I picked up a thing or two from them and made a living as their assistant, but that was never what I wanted. I wanted action, not being stuck in a building all day checking up on people's injuries, monitoring their conditions, dispensing medications, or just conducting surgery. Sure, I did get a bit of action when the occasional patient with wounds more serious than others arrived and we were literally racing against time to save him, but it was never enough. I wanted… more."

There was a sort of nostalgia in his eyes now. Perhaps he was reminiscing about his past, or perhaps he was thinking how different he had become.

"I knew I could never acquire that if I was stuck in my hometown, so I ran away from home. The third son of a family of doctors, I won't be missed by anyone else but family. So I ran away to join the Revolution. It was still the early days of the Revolution and many things were still lacking. I was placed under some of the more experienced doctors and learned everything that I could.

At some point, I received what I wanted and was posted to an outpost on the north side of the Empire. The people whom I accompanied were capable people. Whenever enemies came and they had to fight, they were never afraid. They fought knowing it could be their last but fought anyway. Whenever a stray bullet hits, they would still cry in pain, but they kept fighting. Even with their bodies littered with cuts and blood spewing all over they never let themselves rest.

'Nothing could stop them' was the kind of thing I thought of whenever I saw them fight. Don't be mistaken, they're still many people dying every day, but they never let that get them down.

Of course, they all died in the end. I received news of the collapse of their outpost, how they had been crushed by troops the Empire sent their way. I didn't know how they felt at their last moments, and I would never know. All I know was that the atmosphere that they had was what kept them going.

This was how the soldiers were like back then. Everyone thinks that they were right and that they would win. I never knew if it was genuine or just false hope, but they didn't seem to care either way. This is what's lacking in the soldiers after that."

His hands still gripped onto the clipboard that he had been holding in his hands, threatening to fall onto the ground below once the doctor wavered just enough to loosen his grip and let go. However, just as swift as that moment of wavering came, it dissipated. A fire burned within his gaze as he looked me in my eyes.

"With or without, hope is infectious. I had only been fortunate to have not lost my hope when the entire battlefield is filled to the brim with soldiers that reeked of hopelessness. From the soldiers fighting on the battlefield, enduring for days against enemies that just seem to have no end, to the next patient rushing into my tent to receive treatment. None of them had any semblance of hope left within them. In their minds, it would have seemed as though being dead or alive, fighting for a cause that seemed to have been doomed to fail from the very start, never really mattered. The only thing they cared about was whether the person who sat next to you during meals would still be alive long enough to grab a quick smoke. And that's not forgetting the iron smell of blood, the foul stink of rotting flesh and sickness, and the intoxicating smell of burning embers and smoke all mixed together to form a series of wretched scents that threatened to tore a hole into the stomachs of every person standing there as the feeling of nausea washed over them. Some of the newer ranks would have already given in and hurled whatever meager amounts of food that had eaten." The doctor sat down on the chair in the corner of the room and reminisced about the days back when the Revolution had been just initiated and lacked all sorts of supplies and manpower on every front.

It had been the days where most of the capable minds of the current top brass have still been under the payroll of the Empire, and the number of soldiers dying on each battlefield that needed to be won was measured in the tens of thousands. These days, their numbers can barely be considered enough to start a nation in any part of the world, but in the days back then mentioning their current numbers itself would have been enough to inspire hope in the soldiers lacking them.

"Without hope, the next bullet or arrow aimed at you is almost certain to kill you. Without hope, the next clash of swords would surely end in your chest being sliced open. Without hope, whatever injuries you sustain would definitely claim you. Without hope, the next time you close your eyes would be the last." A small smile graced his lips once the last of his words left his tongue. "And hope only came, when we slowly won battles. Hope slowly came when more and more capable hands took charge. Hope came when more and more sympathized with our cause. Hope finally came, when most of the Generals within the Empire sided with us. Hope arrived, when we heard your name and how you had survived against THE infamous Esdeath."

At some point in his speech, he had made his way to the door.

"Playing your cards better would definitely have given better results. However, don't forget that we don't expect you to always have the best course of action. Bulat is an example of this. He could very well have been dead, and yet he isn't. He isn't well-off, but at least he's alive with hopes of recovery."

He paused at the door, one hand on the handle as he turned his head towards mine.

"And as long as someone's still alive, even if it's an inch from death, then it falls on me to snatch him back. Every single soldier of the Revolution fights their own battles. You're not the only one."

With his words said, he moved out of the door towards the next room, resuming his rounds. Naturally, I wouldn't allow him to leave in peace. At least, not without having my say in it.

"Yeah yeah. Why don't you buzz right off, Pendleton? Won't wanna take up too much of your time."

With a slight dismissive wave of his hand, he closed the door behind him and left.

Left alone in the room, I brooded once again. While what Pendleton had said might not necessarily be the full story, he did bring to light the important things he wished to convey.

Morale is high.

Breathing out one last puff of smoke that I had fished out somewhere within the conversation, I watched as the light at the end of my cigarette died out, having nothing else left to burn. With no more intentions of staying any further, I tossed the remains of the cigarette into the bedside bin before moving towards the door.

"Have a good rest." I made my farewells before moving past the door. I allowed myself one last glance before closing the door. Without any more words required, I moved towards the Generals' Tent.

…

{Najenda's Perspective; Captain of Night Raid; Headquarters of the Revolutionary Army}

My trip had been silent, just me brooding within my thoughts. My footsteps became a rhythm, and before I was engrossed in it, I found myself just outside of my destination. One glance at my surroundings was all I gave upon entering. Most of the current occupants are those who are usually in attendance at every meeting. While a few notable names were absent, I would assume that they would eventually be notified of the contents of the meeting.

An unofficial rule had been to have only the Generals that would be relaying urgent or sensitive information present themselves in the meeting while the rest would send their adjutants or trusted subordinates in place of them for meetings. Unless it was of the highest importance or if it pertains to them, those that would sway the direction of the Revolution, most generals would seldom attend.

Seeing that I have been requested by name to attend, and the fact that the only other subordinate that I have with me now lay comatose in a hospital bed strapped with life support, I had no way of avoiding this meeting.

I sat down at one of the empty seats around the table, puffing another stick of cigarette that I had forgotten when I had lit while waiting for the meeting to start. Slowly, different people started filing into the room. While some of them are familiar faces, most of the other Generals attending were not so.

As if to emphasize how much of a stranger we were, most of them stiffened the moment their eyes landed on me. For whatever reasons, all of them became uneasy after this, evident by their change in posture as well as the way their eyes constantly shifted around every time I catch them looking in my direction.

I suppose that my stint as the Captain of an assassination unit does bring about some form of benefit, given that my very presence seems to be capable of unnerving people now.

By the time the embers at the end of the cigarette flickered out between the thumb and index finger of my prosthetic, almost everyone that should be in attendance was now present. The minute-taker begun furiously scribbling in his sheets of paper as one of the younger Generals decided to take the helm and proceed to commence the meeting.

First on the list had been a brief run-down of various numbers. Supply of food, people joining our cause, win-loss rates on various confrontations across the Empire as well as the villages willing to lend aid and resources to our cause.

I zoned out for the most parts, deeming that these figures are of no concern to me. I am made in charge of a unit of men wielding specialized Imperial Arms for the purpose of earning gold, sabotage, as well as the assassination of key figures that might prove to be detrimental to the success of our cause. Whatever minor happenings around headquarters are of no direct concern to us. Those are problems that others will be handling.

'...One of our forward camps located up in the North has mentioned weird happenings around some of the towns and villages."

News of some interest reached my ears, and I shifted my attention back to the topic at hand. I strained my ears as I listened in.

"From the latest reports, most of the villages around the borders have been discovered missing. Entire villages of people have up and vanished. What's left were some signs of life, but no trace of where these villages have disappeared to. It was more frustrating that even their houses were missing. Even some of the structures made from clay are missing. There had been no signs of destruction from Danger Beasts or any mass migration of any sort.

In nearby towns, similar to the villages, entire populations of people have disappeared as well. However, in contrast, the buildings were left intact. None of the scouts sent from these camps to investigate reported any conclusive findings as to what had happened prior to their disappearance. As of now, these towns have been reduced to Ghost Towns.

In all of these incidents, it has been reported that the last time the forward camps have confirmed people living in those places ranged from 3 days to at most a month for some villages."

I narrowed my eyes at the news.

Odd. Everything from these events points to the meddlings of an Imperial Arms user. Any other sort of method outside of Imperial Arms seems pretty much impossible. If it had been employed by methods outside of Imperial Arms, there would be some sort of sign. Bloodstains, burnt-down structures, signs of a scuffle, or something simple as survivors.

While I had been brooding, the meeting had moved on and the conclusion to such cases was to keep them in view while investigations had been launched. Preferring to be left to my thoughts, I stared at the table that I had been seated in front of. Instead of zoning out, another piece of information came to my attention.

"Units stationed in Thiriom have announced the successful completion of our mission. However, we did suffer a large number of casualties and deaths as compared to normal, most of which were from adventurers. All remaining members of the teams dispatched to the city had made a successful retreat and will be arriving at headquarters within a week from now."

Curt and straight to the point. My eyes lingered over to the source of the voice. I was unsure of her name, only recognizing one of the newer Generals that came into our ranks after my long-term assignment in the Capital had begun. I took a glance at her features. A fair complexion coupled with a face not too displeasing to look at. Golden locks of hair cascade past her shoulders as her aquamarine eyes glanced around the room. Upon closer look, her tanned skin seems to come with some less noticeable scratches and scars.

"Moving on. Najenda, any reports you wish to make?"

With the permission of the head speaker, I stood up from my seat. I calmed my mind as I made my report.

"All activities of Night Raid within the Capital have been discontinued and we were successful in the elimination of Esdeath's Three Beasts. The Imperial Arms of the Three Beasts have been successfully retrieved. However, one of our members has been critically injured, resulting in his current comatose state. He has been taken off the unit to allow him to recover in peace." In one breath, I summarised the current situation of Night Raid. Already I could see some tension lift from their shoulders when told of news that would bolster our forces.

"I see. Thank you, Najenda." He was about to move on the next when I gestured that I wasn't done.

Confused, most of the eyes around the room directed themselves to me. I stared back at every single one of them, making sure each and every one of them has their attention on me before making my announcement.

"Earlier I mentioned that Night Raid has ceased activities in the Capital. Allow me to elaborate further. This decision was made before the assassination of the Three Beasts."

I looked at some of the key figures in the room, mainly some of the veterans who had defected before me.

"Simply put, the [White Phantom] has resurfaced." I could see some of the eyes within the room widen in shock before they hardened their gaze.

There was a stillness in the air as those words left my mouth. I gave myself another second as a good measure to seek unspoken permission from the occupants to continue. An unnecessary gesture, but I prefer to be polite and hate having to repeat myself again simply because someone had been drifting off.

"Based on what limited intelligence my team was able to gather, he seems to be operating with partners or subordinates of his own. Most of them are new faces that we have no prior information on. Fortunately, most of them have distinct features, which allows for easier recognition. However, All of them are troublesome to deal with and every one of them, even the weaker members have been able to evade our attempts at capture. My brokers have informed me that some of their members have moved their operations to other cities outside the Capital, leading me to believe that they aren't just a ragtag group, but an established clandestine organization that could span from a few cities to the entire Empire."

I reached into my suit and took out several wanted posters, all of which had been sketched by Lubbock, and passed them around the room. Most of these have been sketched based on first-hand encounters that my men had with them. We are uncertain of their true names, even though some of my men did mention their names. However, we are uncertain if those were their true names or simply aliases made up to throw us off our trails. To play it safe, we decided to leave their names out.

"These sketches had been obtained from some of the scuffles that we had with them. This one," I gestured to one of the wanted posters. A man of snow-white hair had been depicted on the image staring back at her. "Is what we believe the [White Phantom] currently looks like.

Fortunately, there have been no sightings of the [Black Death] within the Capital as of now. However, I would not discount the possibility that she could have simply evaded our detection. These 2 have been known to work together intimately on numerous occasions, so much so that if one of them was seen, the other would be nearby. Despite this, I do have other news that might interest you more. More accurately, the organization that I mentioned."

I paused as I looked around the room. All eyes had been on the respective posters that I had passed around the room.

"I have reasons and suspicions to believe that this organization that the [White Phantom] has been seen to be colluding with, might have been founded by former subordinates under Duke Gerald Mystil Watkins, possibly even the Duke himself.."

Once I had said my piece, most of the occupants stared at me with a myriad of different emotions. The veteran and higher-ranked officers within the room that served longer than others back in their time of the Empire held shock-filled, some even somber expressions, while some of the less senior ones simply stared at me in confusion.

"One moment please, Najenda."

There had been a palpable silence as they processed this information in their heads. Moments later, the head speaker motioned to one of his adjutants in the room and proceeded to whisper instructions in his ear. The adjutant race out of the room, eyes filled with urgency. The silence continued up till he returned, escorting various personnel in tow.

All of them wore standard robes fitting their noble status. Amongst the new attendees, I could briefly recognize many of the various nobles who had once served within the Imperial Court, either during or before Honest's rise to eventual power.

Seats were arranged for them around the conference table and everyone simply brooded in their thoughts as they waited for this procession of events to end.

It was only when everyone had been seated and briefly did the head speaker turned his eyes back towards me, silently motioning for me to continue.

"As I was saying, I believe that this clandestine organization that the [White Phantom] had allied himself with had been founded by former subordinates of Duke Gerald Mystil Watkins, or possibly by the person himself."

I was about to continue when one of the newer occupants in the room raised his hand in question. I gestured towards him and he returned a polite nod.

"How can we be so sure that the duke and his subordinates are responsible? From what little we know, the last information we had of him was that he was effectively removed from power by Honest."

I took a closer look at the one questioning. This man could be described as having aged like fine wine. The various wrinkles on his face are a clear indication of the achievements he accumulated in his time as the Prime Minister before Honest. Despite being of age, he lacked any air of frailness that usually accompanied people of his age and carried himself like any other person would in their prime. The healthy glow on his face was also not missed, perhaps better evidence of his good health away from the stress of his former position.

I glossed over the information that I had inside of my head before making my reply.

"From what little information I had gathered, both during and after my time in service to the Empire, the duke had assembled a personal unit of trained men that he would call upon to do his bidding. He would gather people of various skills that had caught his eye and would assimilate them into his personal unit. Such assets would be from all walks of life and from every corner of the Empire. The only commonality that we found out from our reports was that the identities of every member of his personal unit are wiped from any sort of records. There had been no papers or documentation that would help with uncovering their identities. It was also frustrating how we do not even have any sketches of their appearance to use as a reference. Any sort of information we did uncover from the [Imperial Archives] was proven to have been falsified. Any reports of their activities detailed only their involvements under a common alias to denote each of their members. While we were able to figure out their numbers and some of their prowess, we are unable to find out anything about their identities.

Fortunately, I've had a great honor and fortune to have spoken with the Duke himself on formal occasions. Mostly just small talk during banquets and ceremonies where everyone was gathered. From those little interactions I have shared with the duke, it was evident that he would come off as fiercely patriotic and loyal to the previous Emperor, both qualities that would be instilled into any aspiring Imperial Soldier during training. While it may seem like he was just some muscle-headed brute, the reality was different. He was well-versed in the political arts wielded by members of the Imperial Court. Wordplay, schemes, reading between lines, thinly veiled proddings. All of these become weapons that he carries with him at all times. His quick wits only served to sharpen said weapons. I won't be surprised if the rumors of his were over-exaggerated just to throw people off."

I paused once again. Catching my breath and slowing my pace.

"After my first encounter with the [White Phantom] and his allies, I had placed my men on active watch duty. Other than priority missions, all members of Night Raid were to observe the Capital for any signs of anomalous activities. We had also launched investigations of our own, working with some of the local scouts in the area to obtain information that might tip us off about their whereabouts or even plans.

All this eventually leads to an event that everyone should be familiar with. The [Blue Pillar Incident]. While dispatched for a priority mission, two of our members encountered them." I pointed to the sketches that Lubbock had drawn laid bare on the table for everyone to witness.

"We had encountered 2 members of the organization who had arrived a step earlier than us. Both members of Night Raid had given chase, with one of them being almost successful in her capture of one of their members. However, it was revealed that he was in possession of an Imperial Arm. One which had been able to let him live despite being stabbed by the [One-Cut Killer: Murasame], and go on to cause a ruckus and draw attention in the form of a pillar extending up to the sky made entirely out of blue flames. It was only due to the assistance of another member of their organization that my operative was able to escape unscathed.

We had one of our operatives skilled in pursuing targets to hunt them down later on. She had informed us that the trail had gone cold and that the other member that we had been hunting down had disappeared without so much of a trace. Any other attempts to discover their positions were fruitless. It was unpleasant, but we had to conclude that they were skilled. To the extent that we only find people with such skills amongst skilled hunters or assassins. While this may be a leap in logic, I believe that there is a possibility that, given the display of their skills, how they were able to vanish from right under our noses and bypassing detection to the extent of keen animalistic senses at the same, they might possess skills that are equal, or even better than most members of Night Raid.

And when it comes to assassins of better quality than the ones in Night Raid, there are very few I can name. Remnants of the Empire's [Elite Seven] and [Group of Terror], Honest's [Four Rakshasa Demons], the upper echelons of the now-defunct [Oarburgh], the twin leaders of the Eastern Nations' [Shadow], the personal assassins serving the Warlords of the Western Kingdoms, and the Duke's dissolved personal unit are the only few notable people capable of matching them in terms of skills. The Empire wouldn't have too much of their resources squandered on us, seeing that we are not even registered as a serious threat to them yet. The Western Kingdoms are still embroiled in their war against each other and would not be engaging against us in this period of time, and the Eastern Nations would not be dispatching their own personal kill squad after already forging good relations with us. The only possibility that I could think of are either survivors from [Oarburgh] or simply the Duke's men. Whatever's the case, I am certain that they possessed skills that I do not think mere hoodlums, criminal organizations or even the mafia would possess."

There were numerous mutterings throughout the conference, but I took note of how every member present seems to be absorbing every bit of information that I was providing.

"Perhaps I should enlighten those who are unaware of what we're talking about." the former Prime Minister, Chouri spoke out to clear the doubts of those present. "Duke Gerald Mystil Watkins was an influential noble within the Imperial Court during the rule of the previous Emperor. He possessed significant clout within the Court and was fiercely loyal to the previous Emperor, Due to this, he was given explicit permission to assemble his own personal unit of men. They were to operate as a covert unit due to the nature of their work. While it was unknown what their exact purpose was, those who are aware of their existence knew that the Emperor was always behind most of their actions. Most of their members were drawn from all corners of the Empire, be it from slums, underground syndicates, military units, or even villages. Any personnel with skills capable of capturing the Duke's eye would be drafted into his unit. All of them answer only to the Duke, who answered to the previous Emperor. Everything regarding the unit was kept unknown, and anyone who was privy to even the minimal amount of information regarding his unit had to be of certain rank within the Palace or told of them from the Emperor's mouth. Even I, the former Prime Minister, only heard of this unit through rumors and was eventually told more about this unit through the previous Emperor once I had gained his trust.

It was a pity that I was never told of anything outside of the line of work they do, so forgive me that I have no other essential inputs to give in regards to their identities. I do have some knowledge of the skill sets they possess, but this information would be outdated. For all we know, some of his men could be seated within our ranks as we speak."

Perhaps it was his attempt to lighten the mood, but his soft chuckle at his joke did not garner any sort of humor from those present. Instead, everyone present began regarding their peers with scrutiny as they began thinking of reasons to trust their comrades they had been fighting alongside for the past few years.

"However, what I can provide with certainty would be the eventual fate of the Duke.

As everyone present would have known Honest rose to power as the Prime Minister after the infighting brought about by the Dukes. Under the excuse of corruption, he had all of the Dukes trapped and stripped of whatever political powers and military might they had once commanded and called for their execution or banishments soon after. It was also around this time that the previous had succumbed to his failing health, leading to the eventual coronation of the current Emperor.

As a duke, Gerald was stripped of everything he owned. His unit of men was dissolved and sent back to where they were from. The Duke himself was to be banished to a city on the borders but met his demise on his way there. There had been many speculations surrounding his demise, with some still believing that he survived his ordeals. While I wish to be hopeful, logic dictates that a man of his caliber wouldn't have been allowed to run free, given how meticulous Honest had been in weeding them out."

Within the confines of my mind, I silently thanked him for his explanations despite how reluctantly I am to give them to former politicians who are only good at power plays within a political setting. The last thing I want is to have them bringing politics into places that have no use for them.

"Whatever's the case, we have to move forward regardless of his involvement. Should the duke be still alive, I presume that negotiations are not impossible, given how the duke would no doubt be furious about the current state of the Empire. For a man like him, I would not expect that he minds working with us. A mutual goal is something that brings like-minded people together, unlikely as they seem. Even if negotiations are impossible, the Empire would most likely have to deal with one more enemy in the coming days.

Of course, all of this requires establishing friendly relations with one another. Something that I'm sure has already been done given the incidents my team has had with them in the previous days. All that's left is to have our dear nobles within our ranks open up negotiations and fight for a favorable deal."

I am pretty sure I'm gloating.

Perhaps it was vengeance against these good-for-nothing nobles, who would do nothing but criticize and wag their stubby fingers in our faces as we fight tirelessly on the frontlines, all because they think they are in the right to do so after contributing their valuable resources for our war efforts. Of course, it would only be right to push them towards the impossible task of negotiating with en

"I'm sure all of you are much more well-versed in politics and negotiating than us soldiers who only know how to fight wars."

Do not forget to smile. Not too condescending, but smile regardless.

Already I could see reactions from the nobles seated across the room. Wry smiles, irritating signs. The list could pile on endlessly.

"I'm plenty sure that you're just as skilled yourself, which is why we're counting on you to maintain friendly relations before we get to do our job of negotiating." Chouri's experience in politics was not to be trifled with. One does not get to be a Prime Minister for long without a firm grasp of the cards they can play within the political battleground known as the Imperial Court. "I'm sure that you're plenty capable of defending yourselves against them before we even get to sit down at a table to talk peace, given your remarkable experiences of commanding armies on battlefields and your current position."

The bullet I shot out somehow made its way back to me. However, with those words directed back at me, I could see spirits lifted as more and more of the occupants began looking towards me with expectant eyes.

Wait, what?

I reassessed the scene before me, before coming to the realization. Unintentionally, hope has spread. Some of the veterans within the room were breathing signs of relief while the juniors are discussing future plans amongst themselves. All of them now possess renewed vigor that was not present before.

How troublesome. I am never taking any advice from that whack doctor ever again.

"Fine. Only if you could get his men on our side."

He merely gave me a wry smile.

Finishing my report, I sat back down as the meeting continued, this time with the nobles in attendance. It was somewhat of a good fortune that the nobles in attendance wished not to trouble us and simply sat quietly in their seats, brooding over matters that they found troubling from our reports.

The rest of the meeting went by without a hitch and soon enough, the head speaker adjourned the meeting. I got up from my seat and was preparing to leave when I had been called.

"General Najenda. A moment of your time please." I turned towards the speaker. The former Prime Minister, Chouri seems to have some things that he wished to address to me.

"I wish to convey some advice. Should you ever meet with members of this organization, do prioritize your own safety over everything else. I have heard several unsavory rumors back in my time concerning their line of work. It wasn't any better when the loyalty the Duke expressed could border upon fanaticism. There is no doubt that that trait of his has been spread amongst his men. I fear, in the worst case, even reason might not be enough to convince them of our cause, though I would like to be hopeful for a better alternative." he seemed anxious somehow.

"Of course. I fully intend to exercise caution even without your warnings. However, thank you for your advice regardless."

"That's good enough for me. It would be a shame if the wheels of the Revolution lost their momentum by losing someone of your caliber and experience at this point. Another piece of advice for you, just as a precaution. Evaluate those who you can trust. The duke's unit utilized their anonymity as a weapon. As far as I know, his unit was like a specter. You might not see him, but he could be watching you from somewhere closer than you think. It would be foolish to think that they are not doing the same even now."

I allowed those words of his to find their way around my head before nodding to him in thanks. He smiled before moving away, followed closely by a blonde no taller than my shoulders. She glanced towards me and gave me a curt nod before moving after her principal.

That lady must have been the well-known flower that the former Prime Minister raised. His daughter, who had decided to pursue the way of the spear instead of acting like the common noble lady of her standing.

Whatever. I let out a sigh as I moved towards the exit and allowed the cool wind to coil itself around my body, sapping away the heat that I had on me. It was the only thing stopping me from grumbling in discontent.

…

{Najenda's Perspective; Captain of Night Raid; Headquarters of the Revolutionary Army}

I continued my leisure walk around the place, ensuring that new sights and facilities here are not missed. I would say that I had a great time if it weren't for the nagging pieces of information the meeting had brought me. Migraines are the least of any concerns and some medication might fix them easily.

"General Najenda." One of the soldiers nearby walked up to me and grabbed my attention. He panted, trying to capture more air before he delivered his orders. "You are being requested for a test."

"What kind?" I inquired. Tests would usually be something basic like a medical check-up. However, I had made the mistake of thinking that all tests are harmless and had made the mistake of having my body tested with some enhancing drug.

Sure, it improves my physical abilities, but it comes with the side-effect of being asleep for 2 whole days.

"Compatibility Test. One of our teams retrieved an inactive Imperial Arm from one of their assignments and the generals have agreed to have every soldier tested to ensure that we do not miss out on having extra firepower."

Harmless. Perfect.

"Lead the way." I gave him a curt nod and was led through the entire camp before arriving at my destination.

"So. What kind of Imperial Arm is it?"

"It is an organic-type Imperial Arm in the shape of a human. Not much information about its activation is known, especially since it isn't like any of the previous Imperial Arms that we gathered. Most of what we know about it comes from records detailing its abilities and first-hand reports from previous wielders as well as bystanders. From what was gathered, it had been mentioned that this Imperial Arm possessed the power that could end battles decisively. Most of the reports detailed its overwhelming abilities in combat, as well as complete mastery of every weapon that has existed, although it does prefer using the weapon that it carries. It was described as a one-man-army. Able to overturn battles on its own. Some of the guys even joked that it might give Esdeath a run for her money."

"I'll rather not put my money on that possibility. The last thing we need is to get her so fired up that she comes seeking a challenge. I would rather not lose such a valuable resource to that demoness."

Having been one of the scarce survivors of Esdeath's battles, I had come to experience just why she was feared as a monster on the battlefields. All who bear witness to her fights and survive would agree that her prowess in combat is unrivaled, perhaps matched only by the [Great General], Budo. This is also not counting how skilled she is with her Imperial Arm. If her combat abilities could earn her the unofficial title of [Undefeated], then the mastery of her Imperial Arm would make her a living disaster. While such a feat may be exaggerated, it does reflect certain truths. Similar to how helpless you would feel when faced with the wrath of nature, such feelings would also be invoked when faced with Esdeath. It would seem as though she can outperform any sort of skill that you have painstakingly mastered.

A natural talent when it comes to all affairs related to the art of war. That is how I would regard Esdeath.

I was guided towards one of the supply stations. A green tent with a symbol denoting its purpose. even before I had entered, a crowd had already been formed before the entrance. Something inside must have sparked everyone's attention. It does not make things easier for me when I realize that I had to push through the said crowd to get to my destination. In the corners of my vision, I could already see the wry smile on my guide as he realized the difficulty of pushing through.

"DON'T BLOCK THE ENTRANCE!" Someone from within the tent shouted to the group gathered before it. With the clear authority emanating from his voice, all of the soldiers gathered stiffened before parting to both sides of the entrance, clearing the way towards the tent. With my path no longer obstructed, my escort hurriedly guided me towards the entrance before this temporary established order faded as everyone's curious nature kicked in.

Hovering near the entrance of the tent, a man clad in white robes was busy polishing something grasped firmly within his hands. There wasn't any fervent zeal within his eyes, nor was there sort of mild displeasure. There was only an impassive stare at the object of interest.

Soon enough, his eyes landed on me before they lit up. He placed the object down onto a nearby table, perhaps where it had been found before he moved towards me. He stared at me for several seconds, and I stared back. I couldn't discern any of his emotions or thoughts. Instead, he wore the same impassive stare. Many questions are popping into my head, as I wonder what he was intending to do.

My next few moments were spent wondering what was weirder: The man before me sporting horns at the side of his head behind where his temple should be, or the above-mentioned man with horns at the side of his head suddenly kneeled down in front of me. As he kneeled, everyone around us started making an even bigger commotion, drawing almost everyone in the vicinity who had not been here before.

Great. One troublesome matter after another.

…

{Third Person's Perspective, Within the Imperial Arm}

"Can I assume that this is everyone?" Michael asked, his eyes scanned the room as he took note of all the individuals gathered within it.

"Yep. Pretty sure everyone that we could contact has already gathered here." Alim cheerfully quipped. "The only ones not here are those that are those who blatantly ignored our invitation, those that are just too far away, and Tatsumi."

Michael directed a brief nod towards Alim before he turned to face the small crowd of people that had gathered. Having been unable to draw Tatsumi in like usual, Michael had decided to call for a meeting with the rest of the others that loiter in this space.

"Then, let's commence the first official meeting between us without Tatsumi. For starters, I do apologize for organizing a meeting like this at this point in time when it's clear that something like this is long overdue. I would also like to express my gratitude for humoring my selfish request and taking what little time you've had out to attend this meeting, as well as agreeing to have Tatsumi guided to me should he arrive in this world."

A few discontent grunts here and there across the meeting room, but overall no one was heading for the door. Michael inwardly let out a smile at their responses, gloating at this tiny victory.

"As I'm sure most of you are already aware, the current wielder, Tatsumi has begun to accumulate a sufficient amount of experience with this power. It won't be long before he starts using more and more of it to fulfill his desires, as most of us supposedly did."

A dangerous line was crossed as several snarls of discontent and borderline anger could be heard from most of the other occupants of the room. One of the biggest silent rules amongst all of the habitants of this space was to never knowingly bring up another's pasts, or more specifically, their past life.

All of them were copies of a person that had once used this power and eventually died after living their life. Everyone resembled said wielder of the past down to their bones. Experiences, memories, personalities. Their pains, their heartaches, their rise, and their falls. Everything was in their heads and is a part of them.

This was exactly why none of them wished to accept that they are the said person they represented. They aren't those people. Those people were inherently wrong. They can't be them.

"Tatsumi has yet to realize how scary of a power he has inherited. All of us at some point were aware and all of us never really cared. Our respective situations at the time of our crowning never allowed us to care. We would rather use this power to burn down the world itself than care for what would happen to us by using more of this power." There were some frowns here and there, but all of them kept silent. All of them had accepted that this power would be used as a tool, uncaring of what repercussions would eventually find their way to them. By the time they actually cared, it was already too late to do anything but laugh at the irony of their actions and the outcomes that they have written and sealed for themselves. "Tatsumi is different. He lacks the drive that we all shared when we were crowned. If he finds out its true nature before attaining for himself a goal, he might very well abandon this power."

"That's something I wish to raise. I fail to see why abandoning this power would be considered a bane to him. If anything, you are trying to have him constantly court death by having him practice using this power. The way I see it, you're just using him to further your schemes. We may all see some part of ourselves in him and thus sympathize with him to some degree, but none of us are sympathetic enough to be willing to intervene in his decisions. The dead have no right to influence the living, and couldn't anyways. That is until you stepped in and took the reins." Al began throwing accusations. His voice wasn't raised, but it was said in a way that everyone present could tell that the person was clearly displeased, evidenced by the look of annoyance currently marring his face, a stark contrast to how he usually acts. "You decided that it's much better to have him utilize more and more of this power. You opened that door for him and ruined all of the necessary steps that he needed to take in order to be crowned. Are you truly not afraid of tempting a demon?"

Several glances were directed to their conversation, but most of them kept their silence.

"If that demon were to intervene, it would already have the moment we made contact with Tatsumi. The fact that it didn't, and without any sort of warning whatsoever, leads me to believe that it somehow condones our actions."

Someone within the room snorted.

"That, or it just hasn't been triggered yet." Michael turned to the new speaker. Unkempt hair tied to the back into a ponytail, yet strands of hair still poke out here and there. His attire doesn't give any point as well. Clothes that seem to have multiple rips and tear in some minor places.

Tatsumi had described him as wild and feral when he had been escorted to Michael for the first time. It seems that in the time from their meeting to the present, his attire had only become more damaged than before. It was only a relief that the damage to the clothes was not on the level of a wardrobe malfunction.

If someone were to describe him as an animal, the most fitting one would be a hungry wolf. There was this intensity in his eyes that cows any who looked towards him.

"It might be unable to act. That demon might only be able to act when the users are already crowned. The very fact that Tatsumi was able to use his powers without being crowned was already something that is outside of everyone's expectations." his voice seems to get rougher the more he speaks. Should anyone paid too much attention, they would have realized that some of his features are changing subtly.

"Now now. Let's not make any sort of conjectures here. What we do know is that he hasn't made any big moves as of now. None of us can be truly sure of its intentions, and none of us have anything that counts as concrete evidence." Alim's claims were enough to clear any form of theory-making that could have spawned.

"Yes, but that isn't why we're meeting up. I wish to brief everyone present on future plans that I have with Tatsumi's growth, as well as to clearly identify your stances, moving forwards. After all, I can't smoothly progress any sort of plans without having first cleared away any sort of obstacles that could have been prevented."

"And what plans do you actually have?" The current speaker was Luna. Having remained motionless still and silent in the corner of the room, everyone was briefly startled when she spoke up, fully caught off-guard with her words. None present expected her to be present, let alone speak.

"This might sound either stupid or crazy, but I intend to pass on my [Inherent Arts] to him."

The silence that followed after Michael's words was sudden. All noise seems to have stopped, as though even the world itself seems to be unable to comprehend his actions. No one moved. No one talked. Even the background noises stopped. In some ways, time seems to have stopped.

"Ever since I had intervened and saved Tatsumi's life, I found out that Tatsumi seems to have been using what appears to be common techniques from my Inherent Arts. It's still very subtle, and only I myself can pick up on it, but the very fact that he was able to use my Inherent Arts is in and of itself mysterious." Michael paused to assess the looks that appeared on everyone's faces. Some were wary, some were curious, and some were… unreadable. "I've conducted minor tests, and all of them yielded positive results. He's learning them at an incredible rate and he isn't even aware of it. I want to continue teaching him and see how far he can grasp my Inherent Arts."

"B-But… that should be impossible." Someone from within the small gathering exclaimed. Michael squinted his eyes to get a careful look at him. Dull features, with nothing of particular note. However, something about him feels off to Michael. There was this strange tension within his lax demeanor, putting any viewer on edge. "Our Inherent Arts aren't something that can be so easily taught. It doesn't just require an insane amount of hard work to fully master it, it also requires an absurd amount of intuition and talent to be able to understand it sympathetically. This is why every Art that we develop is tailored to the user and you can't fully replicate it. So how? How is he able to do all this?"

"I'm uncertain of the exact reason. Perhaps it had something to do with his undeveloped Inherent Art, or it's just simply because of his unique circumstances. Whatever's the reason, it just felt like he would be able to master it." Michael's response doesn't help with quelling the mystery, but everyone was more willing to accept this than an actual answer.

"I might have a theory. Unfounded mostly, but a theory I think might be worth considering." Alim voices his thoughts

"My first impression of Tatsumi was that he was awfully shy. However, over time, that doesn't seem to be the case. He isn't just shy. He has no idea of the world around him. From what I observed, he has been observing his surroundings as though it was something new. He's treating everything around him as though he isn't a part of it." Alim continued. "My best guess is that he's treating things around him as though it is a show, and because of it, he is more willing to accept anything that comes his way. This makes him extremely vulnerable, and impressionable."

"So you're saying it is due to a different state of mind?" Michael inquired.

"Essentially, yes. As for what caused it, I'll say that the death of his friends seems like a plausible option."

"I see. So a defense mechanism that was developed to cope with the death of his childhood friends." Michael summarised. "Unexpected, but we'll work with it."

Michael dispelled what thoughts he had been on. "I will now be detailing the plans that I intend to follow as I embark on this endeavor."

He paused, gauging the reactions of the occupants within the room before he continued.

"I hope that you guys will cooperate with me in the coming days."

...

{Tatsumi's Perspective; Within the Imperial Arm}

An endless swirl of unadulterated chaos envelops me in an endless black void as I drift around it, motionless. I was supposed to be unconscious, yet my mind and is actively seeking out clues in regards to my surroundings.

My eyes could not capture any light, and I wondered if they were even opened. My nose could not detect any scent, as though it was blocked, yet not. My ears could not pick up any sound, as though there was cotton stuffed in them, but with the usual sensation, that cotton would cause when you stuff them into your ear. The faintest of sensations were only picked up by my touch, but they were so faint that I thought of them as sensory hallucinations. My mind was fuzzy, capable of thought but limited.

With my senses rendered useless, there was no perception of space. Directions are muddled; Up was down, and it was also left, right, forward, and backward.

However, I felt no alarm about my situation. It was the place that I had been in whenever I was asleep, before eventually being dragged to where Michael and the others were. It is one of the few places to which I have been accustomed due to the sheer number of times I was sent here. There was nothing that I could do except wait, so I let my mind drift towards whatever it wishes to go.

I bumped into something. Not physically. I am not detecting any sort of touch with anything. It was more like… as though my entire existence scratched against that something else. It was a sensation I had never felt before.

There was a moment of peace as I waited for something to happen. Then, I bumped into that something, physically this time. Something bumped into the area where my stomach would be. Pain shot through my body as I slumped forwards in pain. Nothing I did can make this pain subside, and I could do nothing but moan in pain.

Many things occurred after. My eyes could see. My ears could hear. My nose… still can't pick up any scent, but I assume it was because there wasn't any scent to be picked up in the first place.

My senses have returned.

"Oh my. To be feeling pain from just this. You're weaker than I assumed."

Someone was talking to me. My eyes looked towards the said speaker, and I flinched upon laying eyes on this person.

Standing right in front of me, was an exact carbon copy of myself. He looked like an older, more mature version of my current self, with no eyes in their sockets. There was only a black spot at the spot where his eyes were.

"This should be our second time meeting face-to-face. The first time we met you were weaker. I was surprised how during the time in-between the previous meeting and this one, you've grown only that little bit stronger."

He's now rambling.

Second time meeting? I thought back to my past experiences within the Imperial Arm.

That's right, I have met him before. In fact, he was supposed to be the first person I met within the Imperial Arm. Back then, there were some strange things happening around us, and I paid more attention to that than him in general. Our meeting was also frustratingly short.

"So you finally recalled." he mused from where he stood."It's insulting when I am not even remembered by myself. Seriously, shouldn't that be a more impactful event than anything else your dull life's ever experienced?"

I was now confused, and it doesn't help when the earlier pain was still present.

"H-how?" I managed to utter a word. It was hard to do so when I'm unable to breathe properly.

"How? Assuming you're talking about me reading your mind, it's cause I'm you. Of course, I'm able to know what you're thinking." he nonchalantly answered, as though it was the simplest fact that anyone would know. "And that leads to how there's another copy of yourself."

"Simply put, I'm just a copy. A copy of how you'll even become based on predictions and estimates made by the power itself. As for why I'm even made in the first place, who knows? Whoever controls this space has bad taste if he had to make another copy of an existing person." he continued.

"S-so, you're s-someone I'll eventually become?" I could now breathe properly somewhat. The pain is still there, but I could now ignore it if I were to take my mind off it.

"Huh? Are you really that dumb? As if you could ever become someone like me." His answer doesn't really enlighten me in any way. Fortunately, he does explain instead of leaving people in doubt. "I am made from estimates and predictions of what your future growths would lead to. Any data obtained and analyzed would be grossly overestimated. That is why I am simply someone whom you can never hope to become, nor can you dream of becoming."

His condescending tone is starting to irk me, but I'll keep those thoughts down for now.

"Acting all high and mighty now huh? Think you're above these meaningless arguments? What a hypocrite." Not a second later and this copy of myself starts to further grate on my nerves."

"So why am I here?" I asked, irritation being more evident this time. "And where am I?"

"How would I know?" He's really useless, isn't he? "In my perspective, you just appeared before me. Things are boring here and I need fresh entertainment, so what better candidate is there to fill the role of the jester than my amnesiac self."

Amnesiac? What?

"What do you-"

"So it is true. You really don't remember anything." My current copy of myself was all of a sudden serious. While he was still overbearing and condescending, he seems to have this glint of seriousness within his eyes now. "This complicates many things."

He stared at me as he went through whatever was inside of his mind. We maintained eye contact for several moments, before he closed his eyes, letting out a huff of frustration. His earlier statement somehow answered my question even if it was not intended to.

Amnesiac? Did I lose my memory?

To be honest, a lot of my childhood memories had been blurry. A lot of them were just glimpses of light, fragments of memories with no clear indication with each other other than the fact that I have experienced them all at one point or another.

"Whatever. That's not important right now."

"What? How is that not important? I have missing memories." I exclaimed at his casual dismissal of a severe condition.

"People forget things all the time. Not that big a deal." he shrugged. "Besides, we have more important things to deal with."

"And what can be more important than that?"

"This power we possess. I am still no closer to figuring out what kind of purpose it has, nor its true potential." he started closing the distance between us. "I have no idea how much time we have, nor when we'll ever meet again. I'll brief you on what I know, and you'll brief me on what's going on in reality outside."

He reached his right hand towards me.

"So, do we have a deal?"

There wasn't really much to think as my hand completed its journey towards his.

---

Proofread by: An Exile

Many thanks to my proofreader for his help with this chapter.

Firstly, a bit of news and updates.

I officially started university. That means I have to plan my time more carefully.

Anyways, what a crazy year 2020 has been. The covid-19 pandemic essentially put brakes on all of my plans. While things are getting better, do keep yourself and your families safe. I had been at home mostly, thankfully, and wasn't bearing the risks of contracting the virus compared to the others in fields considered as essential services. It would be great if everyone could just work from home. It was also bad enough that my university enrollment has to also be pushed back for one semester.

In regards to story-making, I have decided to go with slightly longer content in each chapter for this fanfiction, simply because of the time constraints that I will be experiencing in the future. This means that I would be pushing for more content and even hopefully, not too long wait time for each chapter.

This chapter had become longer than I thought, as explained in the previous chapter because of a mistake on my part for not properly judging the pacing of my current arc. I was also working on a couple of other projects on the side. Some of these are original stories, which I would post on RRL, Wattpad, or AO3 when I produced my final draft. Others are fanfiction of other series. I've had an inspiration of sorts these couple of months. I might be posting these drafts into a plot bunnies bin, which I might publish at some point. I realized that some of the authors that I follow have their Plot Bunnies Bin and I thought that this might be a fun way to toss around ideas that may or may not go into my stories, as well as to experiment on some character developments that I was always uncomfortable about. Though it might become time-consuming, I think it could be fun. What do you guys think?

I now have a proofreader. Someone following my stories approached me a while back, willing to help me proofread my chapters, which is a great help.

I would be using my bio as a place for my readers to monitor my story's progress. I'll try to keep them up to date on a monthly schedule.

Secondly, let's talk about this chapter.

I essentially gave more details to Tatsumi's backstory. I felt he deserves to have some sort of twisted past, else it would be bland. The canon version of Tatsumi has too bland of a backstory which I didn't really like.

I have also officially introduced Chelsea! She's part of Oarburgh initially, but since Oarburgh was eliminated by the Elite Seven, she is inducted into the ranks of the Revolutionary Army, which I am sure would be unwilling to let an Imperial-Arm-wielding mercenary go so easily. Now comes the part that plagues me with headaches. I intend to introduce her as an acquaintance to pre-amnesia Tatsumi. Being aware of how he's like having spent a decent amount of time together yet unaware of the circumstances that lead to his amnesia. A definite love interest, cause I like her as a character very much, but it'll take some time before romance blossoms… at least that's my intention as of now.

Now, at the start of the story, there was this fight against the Danger Beast that Tatsumi had to face before subsequently passing out. I know that it was done badly, but what did you all expect? Some treasure of immeasurable fortune? Somemore plot devices to introduce the lore? This is a labyrinth, a nest of Danger Beasts all gathered together in one spot to co-exist and form an ecosystem of some sort. There wasn't going to be anything else down there in the first place.

Now, I'm sure many of you notice me switching between first and third-person perspectives. It is no coincidence. This is only due to me not having any clue whether the first-person perspective was a good idea for side characters which I might not bring back into the story and also for my OCs, whose personalities are still a work in progress. While I have already fully expanded on their backstories and personalities, I am not confident bringing out their personality in the first person. Truth to be told, I still have a ton of reservations about how I portrayed Hikari, but I just let it slide and kept going with it. In my opinion, first-person perspectives are there to show the uniqueness of the character while the third-person perspective is there to inform plot developments. I was fortunate that I did not expand too much about Hikari in the first person, not until later chapters at least. For this chapter, I took a very wild gamble. Writing the first person for a side character that I may or may not bring back. If possible, I would like your feedback on whether this is a good idea. If it turns out great, I will be trying my best to write first-person for Blade, or even Manic, whenever we get back to the actual plot. Hopefully, I have captured some weird quirks in his personality, and what kind of impression this side character gives you.

There's actually another detail I kinda want you guys to know about. As the Akame Ga Kill Universe is really vague in manga and anime, I won't be giving last names to any of my characters unless their name carries weight. It's weird giving names to fictional people that aren't my OCs. And speaking of OCs, this story is literally turning into an OCfest. Not my intention, as I want the story to be placed solely on the main cast. However, I need OCs to keep the story going else recurring characters will screw up my story eventually.

Let's get to the main topic: Tatsumi's power. Long story short, Tatsumi's power is just too unpredictable for me to balance. There's a ton of details about the power that shouldn't be there but it is already there because of stuff I said or things I already wrote. I might have written myself into a corner. But fear not. I have already finalized the image of what this power is supposed to be. The image is already in my head. You guys can come up with your own personal theories and I'll tell you if you're right or wrong.

Now, back to Tatsumi's power in the story. I won't admit nor deny that I know what I am doing. The entire setting of Tatsumi's power is an experiment for me. Let me say it like this. Tatsumi's power will undergo significant changes with his mastery over it as well as his recovery of past memories. It was clear at this point he has amnesia. I plan to experiment with something in regards to this Imperial Arm.

So he will be… well… undergoing changes. (Uncertain of my words here.) If you're wondering why this is so hard for me to say, it's because for the entirety of this story, I was paving the way for a unique kind of story development. So if you're looking for a classic shounen troupe in this story to enjoy, I might ruin your expectations somewhat. Oh, I'm not saying that you won't like the story. It's just that my future story developments might be too unique. I don't think anyone I work with even heard of such an idea as well, though they like it a lot. I'll explain what I'm doing in future chapters. I can't wait to hear your thoughts about them.

Also, a round of clarifications about the differences between Knights and Soldiers, seeing as how I have been using the term interchangeably. There are definitely differences between the two. The most common would be status. Knights are soldiers who have achieved some sort of accomplishments in battle or related fields and are awarded merits accordingly. Rewards ranged from status, hence the Knight Noble Rank, to land. There are a ton of other kinds of knights, but the common point to note is they are all of higher standings than the common rabble that are addressed as Soldiers and usually they are in a position of leadership to lead Soldiers. Nobles would also have knights as their vassals to bolster their military.

One last piece of news. There are going to be some changes. Firstly, I will stop labeling perspectives from the next chapter onwards to challenge my ability to write without them. I will try my best to make each scene easier to recognize who's perspective it is. I will also be changing the first and third-person perspective switching in one chapter and make it such that each chapter would be either all in first person or all in third person.

That's all. I can't promise too much for when the next chapter comes, but I'll rush it out whenever I have free time to write. Now, back to gacha hell and school work.