Terra Firma

Chapter Three: Level 5

September 28th.

It was the due date for whatever it was that this Grey Hound and his pets wanted him for and it rolled around far quicker than Kuroda would have liked. His mood had been foul the entire week. He'd begun mulling on it so much that he actually attended classes (much to the shock of his homeroom teacher) just to try and put it from his mind.

'So what's up?' Tetsuo asked him, sat on an old blue couch that had clearly seen better days with a can of some sort of beer in hand. He'd offered one to Kuroda but he wasn't feeling in the mood for one.

The TV was on and it was dark enough outside for the blue-white glare from the screen to light the apartment, casting long, spindly shadows. Kuroda noticed with some distaste that there were crumpled women's clothes dotted around the sitting room, and the fact that he'd heard the shower running when he'd entered while Tetsuo was sat on the couch watching the news meant his partner was probably still around somewhere. He decided to be gone before she graced them with her presence, whoever she was, and spare everyone an awkward silence.

'I said what's up?' Tetsuo repeated more firmly this time.

'I heard you,' Kuroda replied, his cheek resting on his fist, staring blankly at the screen as a fairly attractive news anchor read off reports about some strange lights spotted in the middle of the Adriatic Sea.

Kuroda however, was more focused on the time displayed on the corner. 18:28. He had a little more than half an hour to make his way to District 11 where he'd meet up with Frosty the Snow-woman and Spectacle Ninja for whatever clandestine purpose Grey Hound had in mind.

His more rebellious 'screw-you' side had half a mind to show up late deliberately, or just not turn up at all. Every time though, the thought was quashed at the memory of little Aika Tsukino, lying motionless on a medical cot in some facility God only knew where. The thought filled him with fresh resolve, and he made his mind up. Whatever the big guy at the top of the food chain wanted – whether it was whacking his big-shot opponent, sabotaging a railway, whatever – he'd do it. If only to see Aika's sweet smiling face again and to give her poor parents some good news.

He picked himself up from the couch and put on a military green hooded top. He wore faded navy blue cargo pants and a smooth plain white t-shirt. Nothing fancy in case he needed to do something dirty. He wandered over to the door before slipping a pair of black sneakers on.

'Hey, Kuroda–' Tetsuo started.

'I'll tell you later. Sorry man,' Kuroda said, cutting his friend off before stepping outside and shutting the door to the apartment behind him.

Kuroda leant against the wall and tilted his head back, breathing a heavy sigh. He checked the watch on his wrist, analogue, not digital, he always found the way the hands moved strangely comforting. It was now 6:29pm; time to get a move on.

He pushed himself off the wall and jogged down the corridor, passing every apartment on the floor until he reached the elevator, which sat next to the stairwell. He called it and waited. It was almost five minutes before the doors opened with a friendly beep and Kuroda stepped in before tapping the button for the ground floor.

'All the advanced technology in this city and elevators still travel at a goddamn crawl,' Kuroda grumbled softly to himself. 'Would have been faster to take the stairs.'

The elevator doors opened to reveal a spectacularly bored looking Yukino, who appeared as startled by Kuroda's sudden appearance as he was by hers. She was in that thick coat he'd seen her in last time. Probably wears it to sleep, Kuroda thought to himself.

'Boss thought you might need a prod to get your ass in gear. Good to see coming here isn't going to be as big a pain as I thought it would be. Let's go.'

And that was that as they walked in silence to the 11th District. Eventually they came to a stop in front of the employee entrance to a large, but otherwise nondescript warehouse that was little different from the dozens of others dotted about the district.

Yukino retrieved a keycard from a pocket inside her coat and ran it through a card reader next to the door. The pair entered and Kuroda found shelves several stories high all stacked with boxes and machinery. He didn't bother fooling himself into thinking he knew what was in all the crates or what the machines were or what they did.

He followed Yukino through the maze of shelves until they came into a small clearing at the dead centre of the warehouse. Four crates had been removed from the shelves and set in the centre of the clearing, a wireless monitor sat perched on one, and Hayama sat casually on top of another, staring at his phone.

'Hello, hello,' the older male said with a friendly wave as he registered their presence while pocketing his phone at the same time. 'Good to see you both in good health; and you're right on time too. If this thing is right,' he rolled back the sleeve of his own coat, revealing a smooth, sleek, black digital watch, 'we're about to have our little staff meeting right about…'

The monitor suddenly winked into life. Once again, Kuroda was treated to only the vaguest outline of this mysterious Grey Hound of the Board of Directors.

'Now,' Grey Hound intoned. The timing with which he'd finished Hayama's sentence made Kuroda wonder if the two rehearsed it beforehand.

'Get used to this,' Yukino murmured softly in Kuroda's ear, 'Grey Hound likes knowing things, and I'd be willing to bet there aren't many places in this city he doesn't have wired.' With that, she took a seat on one of the crates. Kuroda suppressed a shiver at the idea that his and Tetsuo's apartment might be (and probably was) bugged and took a seat on the last crate. He noticed it was sat in between the other two, perhaps if they had to subdue him? He couldn't put it past them.

'I am glad to see you're all present,' Grey Hound spoke, his voice as deep and measured as Kuroda remembered it. 'No doubt you're wondering exactly what requires the attention of people of your calibre.' He was saying it purely for Kuroda's sake, though he took it in stride. Up until now he'd had barely an inkling as to what sort of world the two who sat on either side of him lived in, which included that of Kuroda's new boss.

He had little interest in whatever games were being played in the shadows of Academy City, or whatever ulterior motives Grey Hound undoubtedly held and furthered by sending them off on this mission they were about to undertake. All that mattered was that he uphold his end of the bargain and get Aika back on her feet. For that, he felt he might very well burn down the world to see her smile again.

Grey Hound did some checks on his end to make sure the link was secure.

And then he told them what they were to do.

-X-

A day later Kuroda was in France.

'So what are we doing here again?' he asked Yukino, who had dyed her snow white hair black so as not to attract attention.

'Did you even pay any attention on the flight?' She asked sweetly, her face bright. Unless anyone around them in the small French town could speak Japanese, the two foreign tourists would appear to be engaged in a light-hearted conversation.

Their forged passports labelled them as a Kuroda and Yukino Miyagi, and their story was that they were siblings visiting family. Hayama was lurking about somewhere close by and had stowed away in the cargo hold on the journey. When Kuroda had inquired, Yukino had brushed him off. In the end, he decided that the wiry older teen probably knew what he was doing and let it drop.

The French town was idyllic. It was colourful, the architecture was old in a way that was quaint but immediately comforting, and the countryside view was spectacular. It was then, quite difficult, for Kuroda to imagine that there was a significantly sized laboratory hidden nearby.

Or that France was preparing for war.

Grey Hound, like his peers in the Board of Directors, had known for some time that something big was coming their way, and if Academy City failed to prepare for it, the city and its inhabitants would be swallowed whole. Surveillance satellites and planes had picked up signs that nations aligned with the Roman Catholic Church were mobilising their militaries and beginning the testing of new weapons. What these were, Kuroda didn't know, nor had Grey Hound specified, but one of them was seen as such a direct threat to Academy City that Grey Hound had seen fit to send two Level 4 ESPers plus Hayama to disable the facility 'by any means you deem necessary.'

How exactly three teens – even those possessing god-like powers such as he and Yukino – could accomplish such a feat he wasn't sure. He was banking on the idea that Hayama at least had a plan or two up his sleeve, but since they'd touched down and checked into a roomy villa just on the outskirts of town, all they'd seen of him was a brief text message that simply read "I'll be in touch soon."

So, with little else to do, the two adolescents had spent the rest of the day wandering the town, enjoying the sights, and looking for any sign as to the entrance or whereabouts of the laboratory. So far they'd come up with nothing. Kuroda was beginning to think they wouldn't find anything. Not today, not without attracting attention.

'It's barely been a couple of hours, let's keep at it a little while longer,' Yukino replied, still smiling, voice still light and full of cheer. She was a good actress, Kuroda would give her that.

'You can if you want to, but the jet lag's killing me,' Kuroda said, yawning deeply as soon as he finished speaking as if on cue. 'Besides, I'm kind of new to this whole spying gig. I don't know what I'm supposed to be looking for, or what sort of things I should notice.'

Yukino's eyebrow twitched. Whether it was from amusement or irritation he didn't know, and he didn't particularly care either. He turned smartly on his heel and waved a farewell before sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans and strolling back in the direction of the villa. Yukino didn't say anything as she watched him leave. Instead she shook her head with a frown of disapproval etched onto her sharp features before clicking her tongue and resuming her tour of the town.

-X-

The villa was a modestly sized country home about fifteen minutes walking distance from the town. Situated by a river with nothing but rolling, lush countryside stretching for miles around (with the exception of the town), it was truly a paradisiacal setting.

Only thing it needs is a cute girl in an apron to welcome me home and it'd be perfect, Kuroda thought to himself. He wondered how his classmates were doing back in Eiri High School. He'd never really been a part of any circle of friends (mostly owing to his reputation as a mercenary of sorts) but he never had much trouble fitting in either. He recalled a love confession from an underclassman at the start of the summer holidays. What was her name again? Ah, Mayumi, that was it. Lovely little thing.

Sadly his extra-curricular activities led to the both of them attracting the attention of a particularly nasty group of Skill-Outs. Mayumi hadn't been harmed in the ensuing conflict, but the aftermath had traumatised her so much she could barely speak. Kuroda grunted sourly at the memory. I did go more than a little bit overboard. Now that I really think about it I'm pretty lucky no one died.

He felt sorry for Mayumi, more than her friends – who still gave him the stink eyes, assuming correctly that he was the root of her current instability – would ever really know. During the two months they'd been together, he'd come to like her a lot and genuinely looked forward to their time together. Unfortunately though, he also knew from various experiences that life liked throwing the odd sucker punch or two, and poor Mayumi just couldn't have dealt with it.

Guess that means the only way I'm ever going to keep a stable relationship is if I meet someone in the same line of business I'm in now. Kuroda thought to himself sourly.

He reached the door to the villa and searched for the key, taking it out of his pocket only to realise with a start that the front door was unlocked and slightly ajar. Frowning, Kuroda took hold of the handle and pushed so that the door swung open as silently as he could manage.

The main hall was dark, and there was no sound indicating that someone was nearby. That meant whoever had broken in was long gone, or that they were hiding.

'Okay,' Kuroda muttered under his breath in his native tongue, 'let's play hide and seek then. Ready or not, here I come.'

He stepped outside and made sure there was no one close by. It was a silly precaution to take, what with the remoteness of the villa, but he was fairly certain that people outside Academy City wouldn't take to ESPers displaying their powers openly too well. Once he was certain, he raised a leg and brought it down on the earth, channelling his power through the blow. His arm and leg movements were more symbolic than anything, but they helped him shape and visualise what he wanted to achieve.

What he wanted now was a tremor.

The ground shook and trembled. If he applied a bit more power he could split the earth itself, but that would raise even more questions than a localised earthquake would. He kept the tremors going for a minute before he got results. Sharp, quick footsteps echoed from within the villa and Kuroda smiled thinly at his success.

'Gotcha,' he murmured as he worked out the path the intruder was taking and calculated exactly how much force he could expend inside the villa without wrecking anything vital.

Needless to say he was surprised to hear the faint whistling of incoming projectiles and he leapt to the side as several blurs of movement sliced towards him. He was concentrating too much on moulding his power, however, and one of the objects opened a thin gash on his cheek. A small line of blood trickled down his face, which Kuroda wiped away with the back of his hand, frowning at the injury and the light stinging that followed it.

'Nice reflexes,' a voice called from within the house in French. The footsteps, previously hurried, were now slow and measured now the tremors had ceased.

'I assume that little shake was your doing?' the voice asked. Kuroda raised a brow. He was fairly good at English, but French he had no real knowledge of, thus the meaning of his oncoming adversary's words escaped him.

'Ah,' the voice said, understanding the lack of a response, 'you cannot understand me, I see how it is. Well then, let's try… Japanese?' he said, switching languages like a gifted linguist. The suddenness took Kuroda by surprise.

'Who are you and what exactly are you doing in my villa?' Kuroda asked, narrowing his eyes at the figure that emerged from the doorway. He looked to be around Kuroda's age, appearing slender, with unhealthily pale skin and lank maroon hair that fell just above his shoulders. He was clothed in what looked like almost gothic garb, with a midnight black cotton shirt, dark, faded, ripped jeans, thick, black boots and an even thicker black leather coat which was positively adorned with chains and skull imagery. His eyes, however, were what most caught his attention: red irises formed around a long, vertical slit of a pupil, much like a wild animals'. Contacts, obviously, clearly done to unnerve an opponent, Kuroda thought.

The Western assassin – for that was all he could be to Kuroda's mind – chuckled darkly, it was an awful, tinny sound which grated on Kuroda's senses and almost immediately he decided he didn't like the youth.

'My apologies,' he mocked, 'I am René Wight, and you are Kuroda Makoto, Level 4 ESPer of Japan's Academy City.'

Kuroda frowned at the usage of his identity. Clearly this René character had done his homework, either that or Grey Hound and Academy City's touted 'security measures' were even less effective than they believed; which only soured his opinion of the mysterious individual even more.

'Might as well have strolled into town announcing who we were on a loudspeaker if a day's all it takes for you to identify us,' Kuroda muttered sourly.

René chuckled, 'It was more effort than you think, but your Academy City's arrogance at its admittedly unrivalled technological superiority opens up far more holes than it closes.'

Kuroda didn't reply as he lowered himself into a combat stance, legs shifted apart and fists raised defensively. He knew all too well that some ESPers thought their powers granted them almost god-like status, which had seen some of them abruptly knocked from their pedestals whenever a lower level ESPer (or, occasionally, a particularly creative group of Skill-Outs) took them down in a duel.

'I take it you're here to kill us,' Kuroda said, not taking his eyes off the strange individual before him. He'd thrown something at him earlier, the cut on his cheek was proof of that, and until he knew exactly what René's trick was he wasn't going to drop his guard for a moment.

A loose grin spread across René's face, and he tutted like he was scolding a child, '"Kill" is such an evocative word, I'd much prefer to say that we're here to remove you.'

No sooner had the words left his thin lips when a shadow passed over him. Kuroda reacted immediately, rolling to the side as something large smashed into the ground with unnatural speed. As he hopped back onto his feet he realised he was going to have little time to relax as even more objects, mostly vehicles, but a few household items he recognised from the villa, such as the dining room table and a variety of chairs, were hovering precariously above him, far too many to avoid, he realised with a sudden chill.

Thrusting his hands onto the earth, he channelled his powers, imagining the shape he wanted to create and moulding the earth as he willed it. In seconds a thick, rigid layer of ground rose up to enfold him, and no sooner had he formed it when he felt the impact of an unholy amount of force and Kuroda was hard pressed to keep his shield intact by supplementing its strength with ever more earth.

Finally the attacks stopped and Kuroda warily lowered the shell, feeding the ground more or less back into its original shape. René stood with his hands folded and raised an eyebrow in quiet approval before slowly clapping his hands.

'Well done,' he said, sounding almost genuine, 'I can count on one hand with fingers still left over the amount of people who have survived an attack from Seryna up there.'

Taking that as a prompt, Kuroda snapped his head up, and his eyes fell upon another youth, this one younger than him and René by at least a year. She wore a thick, grey hooded jacket that looked a size or two too large for her which concealed her face from her nose downwards and plain, unassuming trousers. Her hair was short and dyed bright magenta, the only thing about her which really stood out, and her sea grey eyes seemed to hold no feeling whatsoever.

None of that, however, explained exactly what she was doing hovering in mid-air, staring blankly down at Kuroda as three more cars circled around her. A sudden chill froze him as he realised he knew what he was looking at, but never expected to see outside of his home in Japan.

'It can't be…' he breathed, disbelievingly incredulous.

René smiled widely and he threw his arms open dramatically, 'Ah, the coin finally drops for our esteemed guest! You are right! Allow me to introduce myself once more: I am René Wight, by your standards in Academy City, a Level 3 ESPer developed in secret by a collusion of Western nations.'

He then threw an arm up to indicate his comrade, Seryna, if Kuroda remembered correctly, and his grin grew even wider, if that was possible.

'And that is Seryna Tasckird, who bears the prestigious rank of Level 5.'