An empty night above an ever moving city. The air itself was almost stagnant in moisture. Snow gently swooped down, blown by the occasional breeze in coughs. Blankets formed across the city except for the roads. Snow melted away here in a constant flow of salty water. Driving in such conditions was highly unadvised, yet many did anyway. Vehicles still clogged the veins of Tokyo like they always did. Skyscrapers cared little for the snow or the vehicles below weaving around ice patches that became more common as the night progressed. Such snow came as a surprise to many, forecasts said it would drift away or disappear before the snowflakes filled the cold air. Still, here it came hours upon hours worth.

Lights had filled the streets for the last several hours. Not a single alley could hide from the overwhelming reach of the lights. They beckoned for more land as only an empire would, ever expanding into new lands and conquering everything before them. Darkness could not escape from the light's wrath. The battle was one sided to say the least.

Further out of Tokyo, the blackness of night was far more dominate between street lamps and around the side of houses. Here the light kept to itself in warm yellows and reds dotting the streets. The city's lights flickered in the distance, always there yet never changing. Away from the lights, between the rows of identical houses and flats, a singular small park sat motionless in white. This area was sheltered somewhat from the slow advance of the falling snow. The white blanket had been much thinner here than other areas closeby. It could have easily been mistaken as frost at times, especially under the warm light of streetlamps breaking through the gaps between buildings.

Upon the park, where children were long gone with the day, two remained. Both sat on the swings, grasping at freezing metal chains. Ice hung like water dripping in stopped time. Neither swung on their respective swings. They just chatted between themselves. Whatever happened around them, would happen without their involvement. The snow, the chill, could be left to their own devices (mostly to cause delays on travel).

"He's so conflicting…" Asada spoke with a hint of anger, "Sometimes he just makes me so mad!" She proceeded to kick a metal pole, sending flakes of settled snow plummeting into the ground. These created frozen ripples in the snow beneath; a lake frozen in time. They had just begun to 'discuss' the recent arrival of Sabretooth. However, the conversation was more of a rant by Asada and Kyouji just listened blankly. It was better this way. She could vent off some steam, and he could give some advice like he'd always. A win-win for all. Well, except Sabretooth, but he was too far away and unlikely to care for such a conversation.

"It's rare for you to be so blunt…" Kyouji broke his silence at last, "h-he can't be that bad…"

With the anger still within her voice, and a slow swing, she continued, "He's just too good at what he does. How can someone be almost as accurate with an assault rifle as with a sniper? Especially for a person who is as unstable as him, it is hard to believe he just 'got good'. Hell, he wanted a 'fair fight', it wasn't at all! He clearly had the advantage when he decided to do what he did!.. What is it, Shinkawa?"

She slowed the swing to a stop. Snow stopped falling, the air became clearer. No longer the lights were partially blocked by gently drifting snow. Now, each flake of snow could share in the warm oranges and yellows.

"No, it is not just rare. This is the first time I've seen such a thing. You, talking about about someone, to this scale… You usually don't seem to care much about other people-"

"I-I actually get mad easily." A quick reply in the mist of several drops of sweet and hiding behind the reflection of the glasses. It was true: Sabretooth would be an intriguing to keep an eye on, logic was secondary to many of his actions. You had to meet him, talk with him, fight with him, to get the full idea.

"I see…" Suddenly an idea came to his head with a slight smile, "How about we ambush him somewhere? You can snipe him, I'll be a decoy. You would have beaten him without any tricks head-on. I can even get some good machine gunners ready."

"Umm… No thank you." Asada gently tilted her head forwards allowing some flakes to fall off her hair, "It's not like that… I want to beat him in a fair fight. A true fair fight. No tricks, no exploits. Just a good, old fashioned, duel."

Suddenly, Asada leapt to her feet and formed a gun from her right hand. A basic one that kids used to play games in the park, usually ones. No thought went into forming the mock weapon, it just came as instinct. She aimed it right at a large clock (though it barely classed as one anymore). The hands were long gone along with the tracking of time.

"Just you wait… I'll pay you back twice over!"

Kyouji kept his slight smile and stood from his swing. Slowly, he approached cautiously yet with the eyes of determination. He proceeded to lean closer then backed off a little. His concentration had become more cemented onto her right arm which was half covered by a jacket with rolled sleeves and a striped shirt underneath.

"Is it okay for you to do that?" came a simple whisper.

That came as a starle to her, like an electric shock that had been suddenly applied. As quick as it came, the shock faded. Asada stared at her hand, holding it upon the other. For the first time she didn't feel ill. In fact, she felt… nothing. Nothing came from her forming a gun shape in the real world. Incredible…

"I was okay…" a sigh of relief from Asada, "Not sure why though."

"I see…"

Behind, the swings had only just drifted into stillness. A moment passed. Just a gap of nothingness for barely a second before he approached Asada, grasping both her hands into his, calling her name with some quickness. It came as abruptly as the snow a few days ago. Actually, thinking about it, a lot of events had occurred abruptly. Must have been fate stumbling along. Fate had a nasty habit of doing such things at desperate times.

"What's wrong?" spluttered out of Asada's mouth. No time for thoughts, what had to be said, had to be said. She had to deal with whatever came up next as it came (how ever that would turn out).

"I'm just kind of worried. You don't usually act like this."

Kyouji's emotionless face only stared at her. Not in an unfriendly way though, more on the cautious yet slightly creepy side. He squeezed his hands tighter. "You're always so calm and collected. Nothing would upset you, even with the same problems I have. You are strong, you know. Very strong."

Asada turned her head away, she faced towards the ground yet again. A top priority seemed to be to avoid eye contact as much as possible. Then, finally, a quiet reply. It barely reached his ears like listening for a distant car within traffic. He inferred what she said to be: "I'm not strong. Just seeing a gun sets me off…"

"But Sinon's different!" Some emotion leaked out of Kyouji at last, "The Hecate she wields so well. That is who I think you really are. Someday you, the real you, will be able to be like that. So I w-worry when you get upset or frustrated over a guy like that. I'll… I'll help you!"

During this expression of words, Asada attempted to back up a little. Something that she'd had tried to stay away from, being independent off others, came closer yet again. Asada knew she had to make doubly sure she could fend for herself. That had been a reason for all of this, right? All that came to her right now was a sharp pain on the back of her head. She'd just walked into a red pole that held up the swing. 'I don't want to be the person I am right now. If I could leave this me in the past, my life would be a better place…'

Then, out of the blue, came a tight hug. Kyouji hugged Asada tightly. A little too tightly for her liking, but she could not do anything about it. With her glasses misted up and unable to move a muscle, all she could do was wait. It wouldn't be long (thankfully). As a bonus, no one was around at this time. No one could see the events that unfolded for better or worse. Still it quickly become too much especially a faint whisper of her name ringing in her left ear. Instinct took over. Asada got as good grip as she could onto Kyouji's jacket and shoved with all of her might.

Her eyes opened. "S-sorry!"

Asada had shoved Kyouji a good few metres away. There he stood with a look of shock and puzzlement, mouth open. He said nothing. He did nothing. He beckoned nothingness around him. Yet, he was not the only one shocked by her actions, Asada was too. It all came so fast, naught could be done to prevent the urge for instinct to take over. Instinct would take over almost anyone, winning any battle thrown at it. Generally, this would lead to confusion and apologetic verses sung until the words stuck to their heads like superglue. Getting such thoughts out would take more than a few addictive songs listened to.

"I'm really happy you said that," Asada finally continued after a break, "I think you're the only person in this city that understands me but… I'm still not feeling that way. My problem will not be solved unless I fight. Can… You wait until then?"

His face fell, cap covering his eyes in darkness. No sound left his mouth. He nodded slightly.

Asada smiled. "Thank you."

Deeper into Tokyo, it was as if the snow never fell. Not a single drop or flake remained. Only the cold bitter had settled in for the night, resting under a haze of lights. Barely anyone travelled now, even with normal conditions resuming. The roads were empty as a result. Well mostly empty, the occasional vehicle passed from here to there. Someone had to keep the city running as others slept off their work. Tonight, another joined the travellers. He had his own agenda to deal with. There he went, winding through the vast road network guided by grand LED displays. Unchanging and enduring, they remained hovering above where the vehicles passed by.

The car kept going, beyond the lights and landmarks, past vast shops and restaurants all closed for the night. Murmurs and rumbles came from the engine, all muffled by some ridiculously large exhausts hung from the rear. It had the power, oh yes it did. Enough power to scream away most who dared to chase it. Still, the car hummed to itself as the ever present lights flickered upon the blue paint. At the front, most was taken up by the (trapezium) grille separated by a line piece of metal. Within the 'saloon', all were welcomed by its comfort; smooth leather covered the seats. Moreover, everything you would need on a journey was here: sat-nav, air-con and a radio. Quality above all else. Many would scoff if told this vehicle was nearly fifteen years old. 'Nothing could compare to this', he thought. A radio station had been tuned into. Voices ran through the news and headlines gradually. He paid no attention, however, as his destination was now only a street away.

A small car park. It only just qualified to be called a car park like a child passing a test by a single mark. Every space had been reserved, the only way to make sure all the spaces would be taken by customers not random strangers wanting to shop around. Extremely carefully, the car pulled into a space beside the metallic gates that had begun to close. They shut with a gentle clang. Rough grunts from the engine ceased. Only silence now remained, returning to its reign over this small district against the distant tides of noise.

A person exited the vehicle, locking it behind him. He stared at the other vehicles around him. Though ranging vastly in sizes, colours remained constant: greys, blacks and whites. "I'm not one to talk then, ey? A royal blue blends in rather well, better than expected to say the least."

The figure continued to the front doors. He span them around while walking through. Here it was, the hotel (a semi-grand one at that). Not a single piece of dust dared to settle upon the spotless floor. Every part was as clean as could be. Even so, some still moped up and cleaned. This was all futile, of course, as filth would come back the next day. A vicious never-ending cycle. Stepping on the floor now? Would that be rude after all of their hard work? Probably.

"Welcome back, sir."

He pulled back his hood, catching some of his wavy brown hair. Parts sprung up here and there, just a mess all over.

"Thank you," he nodded slightly, "oh yes pass this onto the chef tomorrow: I request a traditional English breakfast, please. All of the usual stuff included. Sausages, bacon, beans etcetera. That alright?"

"Of course sir. To your room?"

He thought about this for a second, hand to chin. "Yes. Same time as yesterday."

"Very good sir. Anything else?"

"If you get a package sent to me, send it up to me as soon as possible. No delays."

He began to walk away as the woman at the front desk leaned forward a tiny bit and asked on last question: "Could I confirm your ID first so we can deliver it tomorrow?"

Without hesitation, he turned to the deck. His shoes formed darkened puddles upon the chequered floor. Whites became brown. Blacks became even blacker. Slush had clung on when approaching the hotel only to lose all of their strength and collapse onto the floor. Where this Slush came from was a mystery, only that it clung on in the shadows and in the cold. A wallet unfolded in his hands, it faced the woman. In black, it read his information clear as day including his name. In a flash, the entire thing was gone (now resting in his jacket). "That all?"

She nodded. "Have a good night sir."

He smiled in return. Then he left the marble floor for a carpet. The muffled squelching finally ended. Ahead, two rows of a dozen lifts tiredly sat. He chose the closest one on the right, pressing an up button. A lift came and went with him onboard. It plowed upwards.

Thus, the woman behind the counter was alone again for now. It was not long until a worker came with many cleaning utensils. She quietly gasped, dropping a sponge in the process. "Did someone just walk on MY perfectly clean floor just after I cleaned it?"

"Yeah, yeah," mumbled the one behind the desk, head on desk, "That new visitor. Even asked for breakfast delivered up to him."

"He the one in the Evo?" The sponge had been picked up, replaced by a fine silky towel placed on where a small puddle of water now slept.

"Yeah. saw it as soon as it entered the car park. No music though, that was odd. Would have expected some basey music. Finish up here, I'll lock up."

They both nodded at each other.

Far above, near the top of the hotel, the lift finally stopped. The roof was only a few floors above not like it mattered. The view at the corridor's end glistened like a perfect night sky. Lights from skyscrapers were stars gently hung in patterns and swirls. Streets below became the arms of a galaxy, dominating the view. Lastly, but definitely not least, Mt Fuji far in the background yet barely visible. Its deep black silhouette camped beneath the navy blue (though mostly black by now) sky. However, to him, it was only the background. A wallpaper to be plastered around a room while not noticing it until parts begin to fall apart.

A door opened. Lamps upon the celling slowly awoke from their slumber. A luxurious room stretched out across from wall to wall, all perfectly clean. The furniture could wait patiently for their temporary owner. He entered, closing the door behind.

"What a day…" he grumbled placing a jacket onto a hook. "I'm just not cut out with this kind of stuff… Time for a cuppa."

He dumped a small bag onto a chair near the door and proceeded to pass through the entire room. Instead of sitting down onto the sofas, he walked through another door beside the glass wall. A small kitchen, perfect. He checked the inside of a kettle with his one eye, there was enough water to boil. It screeched into life. Then, to find a cup. One had been lying to dry for a while beside the sink. He grabbed the grey cup by the handle, gently placing it beside the kettle. Now, to add the rest: a single teabag, two teaspoons of sugar and some milk (which nearly split).

For a moment he paused to think. 'Everything from the last few weeks comes down to tomorrow. It seems that it will not be as simple as putting a bullet in his head. I need more information! Anything to give me the upper hand against the so-called Death Gun. Really should've chosen another name. People like something exotic in villains' names. German, Roman, Greek. 'Omega Glock'... 'Alpha Exterminator'. Huh, not bad, not bad. What about-'

Suddenly, a high pitched whistle. The water had boiled. It was poured into the cup, mixed in with the rest with a spoon. "Not my problem though. I'm not the bad guy in this story. Moreover, I don't want to change my ingame name. Sabretooth is perfectly fine for now."

He removed the teabag from the cup, carefully lifting it with a teaspoon and proceeded to drop it into a bin. A homemade cup of tea was now ready. Not for drinking yet however, still way too hot. For now it was placed on a little mat beside one of the sofas. It had time to lazily cool down. A laptop was suddenly thrown onto the cushions, bouncing off and opening. The screen burst into light blue (luckily not the blue screen of death), fans started up. Still alive even with a few hiccups due to age. This had seen a lot over the years yet it was quite unbreakable. Hitting it against the wall a few times wouldn't break it.

A buzzing came from the laptop. He shuffled over towards it. An app had appeared on the screen, dominating it entirely. Using an embedded mouse, he hovered over a green button and pressed it gently. A tab opened, someone was on the other side.

"Talk to me Seijirou, I need information and I need it now." He began, blowing onto his tea before and after speaking.

Seijirou adjusted his glasses before answering, "I've told you before, I don't know how he knows. No one knows who he is! This 'Death Gun' probably has contacts in and about certain places. I'll keep investigating… Anything from you since last we spoke?"

"I did have an idea… A bit far fetched, but I have experimented with this idea and it seems to hold up: from a building within Gun Gale Online, you can see everything in the plaza. And I mean everything. Including personal data used to sign up for a tournament. Some exploit. For arguments sake, let's say the 'Battle of Bullets' tournament. Such an exploit is still majorly unknown thankfully. After this is done, I'm sending a report to prevent such things again. Plus, one to your manager how you need better people for this. Need a larger division for VR related affairs. It BLOODY be read."

Seijirou wrote some notes down onto a small piece of paper. Nothing else around him could be seen except a darkened wall behind him and the paper he just wrote on. "I-I understand what you mean, Honda, but these things do take time to process and be accepted through the council."

Honda sighed heavily, "So, what? You'll let other innocent people die before further action can be undertaken? Suit it yourself. I'm going to fix all of this with or without you. Just get what I need and leave the rest to me. This conversation is over..."

He went to click a red button with a lying phone at its centre before Seijirou panickly grabbed some sheets of paper and showed them at the camera. Honda did nothing. "Something of use to you that I have found. If we can resolve this as peacefully as possible, it is yours. We have a deal?"

"Ugh, fine! We do, until I get them papers. Then, I'll vanish. That's a promise." He finally backed down, slumping back onto the sofa. Honda (and Sabretooth) were slaves to themselves. So unpredictable yet predictable in the right circumstance. Seijirou had started to learn that. Keeping him on a leash would be the safest option for now. There were too many uncertainties to consider, but at least with him under control, some had closed off.

"Wonderful! Anyway, I'll send some files over right away so you can look over tomorrow. This time tomorrow, you'll be a hero. Goodnight, Honda. You'll need it."

The connection was cut. This left a lonely Honda lying and staring at the roof above. He tapped the cup. Still a little hot. "I'm no hero. Never was, never shall be" he muttered to himself. Deep breaths came and went as the seconds ticked by. Many others wouldn't have been able to sleep after all of that, many questions and mysteries still swirled around his head like a whirlpool. They'd would have been kept awake in trying to answer such questions: "Where did he get those files?", "Who is this Death Gun and what does he really want?" or "When will this tea cool enough so I can drink it?". However, he was very much unlike others. These questions were kicked to the back of his mind as he sipped the tea until none remained. He had decided the sofa was his bed for the night, so went to sleep upon it. No questions there.

So, as an email blinged upon the laptop, Honda was already fast asleep. On the opposite end of the room, an AmuSphere sat patiently for the night to pass. It sat there, silently and facing the window. Its view would wow many yet it never muttered a word on it. The AmuSphere had only one job for tomorrow, and it knew what it was: to help Sabretooth. A blue glow of excitement emitted from the AmuSphere only to fade soon after. It stared at the skyline, waiting for sunrise and to get to work. Many hours would pass before then, it knew that. It could wait, it knew how to wait for the sunrise.