At the eclipse of the twenty first century the infinite stratos was born, plunging the times into what many consider the second great technological revolution. Humanity, equipped with the power of gods, entered an age of golden prosperity. What many did not realize, or perhaps chose not to realize, was the looming darkness our ascension would herald.
Muddled darkness was all the young Ichika's dark brown eyes could discern past the brown cloth tied around his head. The barest hints of light and shadows danced across his peripherals accompanied by the light sounds of footsteps on concrete were the only things that clued the boy to his circumstance. Though he didn't have much time to ponder nor pity himself however as the blindfold was roughly yanked down.
"Same as the picture, features check out too. This runt's Orimura's brother alright. M will be pleased for once," a woman snorted, crossing her arms.
Ichika flinched as the overhead lights momentarily blinded him before snapping his eyes to the woman who just spoke. Her shoulder length black hair neatly framed what was a pristine face save for a single scar across her cheek while a disinterested visage painted her features.
Her eyes however made the boy shrink away instinctively. Contrasting her aloof countenance, her red eyes glimmered with restrained cruelty. There was a sadistic desire that craved suffering but was restrained by a chilling professionalism. Even the adolescent Ichika knew that he and the woman were vastly different creatures.
"You know, we've still got some time. Why don't we have a little fun with the kid? I got a brand new knife just for this kind of stuff," another woman with long brown hair cackled, a manic smile smeared across her face.
The woman narrowed her eyes however as the soft roar Ichika recognized as the sounds of an IS touching down to land interrupted whatever act of cruelty that was about to play out.
"The hell? It's too early for Orimura," the woman with brown hair growled.
Blonde hair swayed from side to side as another woman entered the warehouse, her eyes sweeping across the smuggled weapons that lined the warehouse alongside the metallic frames of two stolen IS in their inactive form.
"Idiot, did you forget our secondary objective? I promise I'll skin you alive if you ignore another briefing. We're making a deal with the Americans while we're here. The warehouse is burned after we're done here so we're knocking out two birds with one stone," the red eyed woman with black hair explained with a frown.
The blonde's gaze flipped from the two women to the obviously kidnapped boy. Had she seen this kid somewhere before? There was a spark of familiarity in the boy's features.
"I didn't realize Phantom Task dirtied themselves with human trafficking. Talk about unprofessional," the blonde remarked with a condescending shake of her head.
The brown haired woman bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood. Americans, oh so great and patronizing, their pretty little country dripping with hypocrisy.
"We don't, just a standard HVT in an operation we're in the middle of. One that doesn't concern you whatsoever," she snarled.
The blonde frowned, flicking her eyes to the stolen IS before settling back on the boy who she saw trying to subtly loosen his bindings. Shit, now she knew why she recognized the brat. This was Ichika Orimura, Chifuyu goddamn Orimura's little brother. It would be a cold day in hell if the Brunhilde herself would let her kid brother be in the hands of the world's leading terrorist organization. Was she on her way now?
"I don't like this, the deal's off," the blonde stated brusquely, turning on her heel and marching back where she came.
"Stop right there you bitch," the woman with long brown hair growled, readying at the back of the blonde's head. "Boss isn't gonna like you flaking and neither am I for that matter. Now how about you turn back around and finish the deal before you finish yourself by running away."
The blonde turned around, her cold fury encapsulated within a harsh frown. "I know you Phantom Task pilots aren't very bright, but do you realize who you're pointing that thing at? Surely you aren't so brain dead as to forget that Uncle Sam doesn't forget nor forgive attacks on its people. Be thankful that we barely tolerate you trash in the first place."
The blonde activated her IS in a flash, a bulky model with heavy armor plates and two towering howitzer pieces mounted to its shoulders. The enhanced energy field surrounding the IS shimmered as if daring anything to try and pierce the barrier. Any American insignia that was standard to U.S IS models were conspicuously missing.
The two Phantom Task pilots activated their own IS in turn. Enormous weapon systems capable of leveling buildings were pointed at each other in the ensuing standoff, three pairs of eyes narrowing in anticipation.
The three women, fully immersed in their shared disdain of each other, almost failed to notice the young Ichika slowly and awkwardly wriggling towards the edge of the warehouse thanks to his slightly loosened restraints.
"Get down here Gretta and beat the kid unconscious or something. He's seen enough of this shit show," the woman with black hair ordered to seemingly no one.
A black IS perched in the ceiling rafters slammed down next to the boy. Had she been hiding there the entire time? The question fled Ichika's mind as panic flooded through his system, his small form trying to squirm away from the walking weapon of mass destruction.
"Not one to beat on kids, but orders are ordered right? Nothing personal kiddo," the woman huffed, taking a menacing step towards the prone boy.
In his panic, Ichika shuffled backwards right into the frame of one of the stolen IS with an audible *thunk*. To the shock of every occupant of the warehouse, the IS whirred to life, responding to a potential pilot's touch.
"No fucking wa-" the woman with black hair began to mutter before being cut off by the harsh buzz of her radio. A single transmission blared for all to hear.
"Mother to all stations, the mission is a success and Orimura has located your position, withdraw to the rally point time now," a female voice intoned over the radio waves.
"Fuck me, grab the kid Gretta. There's no way we're letting him go with what we just saw," the black haired woman hissed. She scowled as her gaze returned to the American who was now smirking victoriously.
"The deal is a bust, but maybe we can gain something much more valuable than two dinky IS models. All teams move in," Angela said, running a hand through her golden hair, already ruminating the potential of the captured boy.
The roof of the warehouse burst open, natural rays of sunlight invading the warehouse. Several IS without American insignia soon descended while teams of men breached and stormed in from side entryways.
"So it was all a setup?" the black haired woman tisked, cautiously eyeing the new enemies.
"Just a precaution. You didn't really think that we would trust you people did you? Don't get me wrong, Uncle Sam still values your group's cooperation with ours. However, something far more profitable has presented itself. I'm sure you understand."
"We took the kid, we're leaving with him. You can have your two IS as according to the deal so how about you fuck off," the brown haired woman snarled.
The blonde's smirk waned, growing tired of the situation. "The boy comes with us… unless you really believe you can escape with not only our organization but Orimura bearing down on you as well?"
"Do you think we can't?" The brown haired woman taunted, charging her IS's mini railgun and aiming it at the Americans.
The blonde laughed, instantly calling the bluff. "Don't worry, we still have orders to play nice. Just hand the boy over and our business is done. Run along now, or else big bad Orimura will get you. Even we recognize her power, you know."
The brown haired woman bit her lip. "What's to say we don't expose you shitbags for what you really are? All your dealings with Phantom Task, your little organization, and what about your blatant disregard for the Alaska Treaty?"
"You really think anybody would believe you? Terrorist scum, as opposed to a brave guardian of freedom and democracy," Angela mocked with a dramatic wave of her hand.
"Enough! Our mission is complete. We withdraw immediately," the black haired woman commanded with a sharp frown.
"But-"
"We withdraw or I'll kill you right here in front of the Americans and haul your IS back to base," she warned.
The two other phantom task pilots scowled, sending a furious glance at the Americans before following the black haired Phantom Task pilot in full retreat.
The discarded Ichika looked to the approaching woman with a mixture of fear, suspicion, and a little gratitude. Where was Chifuyu-nee? Wasn't she supposed to rescue him?
"Hey kid, are you hurt? I hope those terrible women didn't harm a hair on your little head. You can call me Angela by the way, you're safe now," the blonde now identified as Angela soothed, deactivating her IS and kneeling in front of the boy.
"Let me get those uncomfortable bindings off you," Angela offered, giving an inviting wave of her hands.
Ichika sat frozen for a few seconds before shaking himself from his stupor. Hesitantly, he squirmed forwards into Angela's arms, letting the woman cut the wire binding his wrists and ankles.
"Listen buddy, we're going to have to take you to our home for a bit. It's all boring adult politics and stuff. But don't worry, we'll treat you good, we're not like Phantom Task," Angela cooed, patting Ichika's shoulder comfortingly.
Ichika knew a lot about the IS, how could he not when his sister was the pilot she was. He understood what had just happened, he understood he had become someone special, he understood he had just been saved by kind people. Thus, he nodded resolutely to the woman, putting on the bravest face he could muster.
"Thatta boy, we'll take care of you," Angela praised, ruffling the boy's hair. "Skunk, get over here and take the kid back where it's safe. Oh, and get your team to haul off those stolen IS, they are American property from this day onward."
Ichika was quickly led by the hand of the woman dubbed 'Skunk' by Angela . He recognized her as one of the American IS pilots that had crashed through the ceiling to save him. For some reason, he remembered a time when he and his sister sat down for dinner once and Chifuyu-nee complained about Americans. He couldn't quite remember what she said though. Ichika supposed it didn't matter and shook his head to clear the random thought. He was safe now.
"What's your name, little man?" the woman named Skunk asked with a questioning look.
"O-Orimura Ichika."
A spark of recognition flashed in her eye. "Orimura huh, that makes a lot of sense. Rest easy though, we'll protect you from now on. America extends its help to those who need it and all that."
Ichika failed to hear the soft self deprecating chuckle that followed.
Skunk led Ichika outside the warehouse where a helicopter was waiting. She waved a hand to get the pilot's attention, "captain says the kid needs immediate extraction back to the states."
The pilot nodded wordlessly and began pushing buttons and flicking levers Ichika couldn't see. Ichika was then guided into the helicopter's passenger hold and into a seat. Skunk gave a thumbs up to somebody Ichika couldn't see and closed the door to the helicopter before taking a seat opposite him.
She watched Ichika fiddle with the seatbelt mechanism with an unimpressed look. After a minute and the helicopter slowly rose into the sky, she sighed. Leave it to that woman to task her with what was ultimately babysitting duty.
"Shoulder straps come together and click in with the waist."
Ichika nodded bashfully before successfully strapping himself in. "Thanks Ms. err Skunk."
Skunk grunted in a disinterred response before leaning back into her seat. She chose to distract herself by fiddling with the metal canisters that were strapped to her belt and torso, completely ignoring the boy.
Minutes soon turned to hours as the helicopter glided through the air and despite everything, Ichika couldn't help but feel an anxious excitement at the turn of events. Captured by a terrorist orginization and saved by the American military, he couldn't even imagine what his classmates would think. Even if it was pretty scary, in the end, he was thankfully saved by the good guys.
However, as time passed and the excitement drained from his system, all that was left was exhaustion from the most climactic day of his young life.
Ichika Orimura fell into a deep sleep as he was taken to his new home, the United States of America.
At The Warehouse
"What are Americans doing here, where the hell is my brother?" A scowling Chifuyu Orimura demanded. She'd received intelligence from the Germans that her brother had been kidnapped and taken here by the terrorist organization Phantom Task. Without a single doubt in her mind, she'd forfeited her victory in the second Mondo Grosso and blazed a path to where her brother had been taken.
However, all she found upon arriving were American tier one operators and IS pilots milling about like they belonged here.
"Short black hair, brown eyes, a couple inches shorter than me, is he here!?"
"Calm down Orimura, we have no idea where this kid is. We had no intel on a hostage. Even if your brother was here, Phantom Task is long gone. Someone must have tipped them off, they barely slipped through our fingers," Angela sighed with faux irritation.
Chifuyu snapped her gaze to the blonde woman, studying her features before taking in her surroundings. Why was the warehouse's ceiling destroyed? Was there a struggle? But there were no bullet casings, no burn marks, and no blood at all. It didn't quite add up. And why was this American even telling her anything? American's were always so stingy with their secrets.
"You don't look like standard American forces or even special forces for that matter. Who are you people, your involvement here is in clear violation of the Alaska Treaty," Chifuyu growled, eyes narrow in suspicion.
"Come now Brunhilde, we're not here to pick a fight with any sovereign nation. Uncle Sam is willing to exhaust all of America's resources in the defense of freedom and democracy worldwide. You know as well as I do that we hate terrorists," Angela replied, placing a hand on her hip.
Chifuyu growled. Damned politics, damned terrorists, damned Americans. Where the hell was Ichika? "As bullshit as you people are, my brother is still out there. But don't think I'll forget about you."
"How frightening, do you really have time to be taunting me though? Poor little Ichika Orimura could be being tortured as we speak," Angela scoffed.
Anger smoldered within her and Chifuyu resisted her lesser instincts to put the woman in her place. She took a shaky breath, then another one. And with a look that could freeze hell over, Chifuyu rocketed into the sky with her IS, easily shattering the sound barrier as she flew.
Angela released a hefty sigh and tiredly ran a hand through her blonde hair as she watched the Brunhilde soar into the distance. But a smirk soon crept itself on her features as ideas regarding the boy flew through her head.
"Watchdog to all teams, business is finished, all teams prepare to head out," Angela commanded through her radio. Her tiredness slowly disappeared as her mind wandered back to boy wonder who was now on his way stateside. This could actually make the history books. The boy could at least, she doubted she would ever be in any book.
She secretly hoped the higher ups wouldn't do anything too radical with the boy. He was admittedly a cute kid, might even be a heartbreaker when he grows up. Though the kid also seemed a bit naive, but in a kind of funny way. Just the type of guy her younger sister would be all over.
With a small chuckle of amusement, she reactivated Bulldog, her personal IS and ascended into the now darkening sky. Two additional IS for Uncle Sam in of itself was a tremendous gain. The real victory however was the boy. To think, it was possible that a male could pilot an IS.
She did feel a passing inkling of pity for the boy before promptly tossing it aside with a snort. She wasn't going to fool herself, the boy was essentially abducted twice today. But she supposed she wouldn't let it bother her. She did this sort of stuff all the time, she was a patriot after all.
Ichika slowly awoke, groggily wiping the sleepiness from his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the sun shining brightly through the lone window to his left. He idly deduced that he'd managed to sleep through the entire night into next morning.
"Ah, so the little man finally awakes," the woman Ichika recalled as skunk remarked, placing a metal canister at the apex of a little pyramid of similar canister she had stacked.
The previous day's events rushed through Ichika's head, his kidnapping followed by his subsequent rescue. His childlike mind quickly shrugged it off however, immediately focusing on the present.
"What's that?" Ichika questioned, pointing at the metal canisters stacked precariously on the night table that was beside the bed he was laying in.
"Huh? It's a pyramid of course. It's actually the 28th I've made waiting for you to wake up. You're a real deep sleeper kid, I've never known anyone who could sleep through touchdown with how loud our birds are," Skunk said with an annoyed scoff.
"Ah… sorry I guess. But I meant what are those metal thingies?" Ichika asked, pointing closer to an individual canister.
"Oh! So that's what you were asking, knew you wern't that stupid kiddo. Are you interested? These are my darling creations. Inside of each canister is a healthy dose of Dichlorodiethyl Sulfide cooked up by yours truly," Skunk preached, swiping the top most canister on the pyramid and presenting it to Ichika.
She sighed at Ichika's blank look. "I suppose you ignorants refer to the chemical agent as mustard gas. You know, the stuff that causes permanent eye damage, burns the skin, and makes breathing a big no no."
"Wanna hold one?" She offered, holding the sleek canister out in front of Ichika's face who immediately recoiled.
"Come on you big baby, it's not going to go off or anything… probably. Even if it somehow does, I always keep one of those state of the art gas masks with me. Though I suppose I only have one and if it came down to it, well... I'd be sorry for all it'd be worth. Besides, Dichlorodiethyl Sulfide isn't totally lethal. Trust me, if the organization let me keep my more dangerous agents on me while stateside, I would."
Ichika looked at the outstretched hand holding the gas canister, then to the woman, then back to the canister. He needed an adult, a real adult.
"Stop scaring the kid you psycho," a voice spoke from the doorway entering the room. It was the blonde woman who had saved him. Angela, Ichika recalled.
"That's rich coming from you Watchdog. Don't forget that I've been around longer than you, I still remember the stuff you did when you first started. Also, I'm not crazy, I'm a chemist, there's very much a difference," Skunk retorted. The two women briefly glared at each other. It reminded Ichika of those nature shows where two predators would stare each other down. And he was the meat in between them.
"Whatever, just put that crap away, I've got to talk to the kid," Angela concluded with a sigh.
Skunk grumbled unintelligibly under her breath before halfheartedly packing away the canisters into her belt and numerous other pouches.
Angela sighed and brought a chair to sit across from the boy's bed before taking a seat in it. "First of all, I'm sorry for sticking you with this crazy woman, Ichika. She may be weird, but she's capable when it comes to the job. Since we already know your name, it's only fair you know both of ours, take it as a sign of trust."
"This nutcase is Emily Kӧnig, though you know her as Skunk. We call her that because of the… abstract form of warfare she likes to employ. Truthfully though, it's because people always avoid her because of the gas she's always packing."
"That's not true at all! Don't listen to her Ichika, I choose not to mingle with the ignorants who are incapable of understanding me or my chemistry," the now named Emily stated defensively.
"Also, I didn't know we were just throwing names around, Angela Wyler," Emily added with a tisk.
"Come on now, it's not like we really exist. We haven't in a long time."
Emily shook her head. "Why do we even have aliases then?"
"It's tradition, you know that."
"Well you're not the one who was named after an animal known for shitting out gas!"
Angela shook her head in exasperation and gave Ichika an apologetic look. "Whatever, just call me Angela and we'll get along swimmingly Ichika."
"O-Ok Ms. Angela."
Angela glared. "Drop the Ms."
"Yes Angela."
"Better."
"Get on with it and tell him what you're going to say," Emily huffed.
"And are you sure? I've got an idea what you're about to do…" Emily added quietly so that only Angela heard her.
The blonde nodded subtly to her companion.
"I'm sure you understand your precarious situation, right Ichika?" Angela asked.
"Umm, I guess I saw you guys doing something secret and you don't want anybody finding out. So… I kind of have to be in America right now? I guess that means I won't be able to see Chifuyu-nee for a while," Ichika said quietly with a sad look.
Angela pursed her lips. "That's… basically right. But you skipped over a very crucial part. Remember back at the warehouse? You bumped into that IS and it glowed with light, it started up when you touched it."
"But that would mean…"
"You're the first and perhaps the only male who is capable of piloting the IS Ichika Orimura."
"No way…"
Angela leveled the boy with a serious look. "You have a few options going forward young man. First, you can 'disappear' into a very special witness protection program indefinitely. I wouldn't recommend this however, you'd leave our care if that happened. There is a second option, one that took quite a bit of effort to iron out, but we've thought up something satisfactory."
"What is it?" Ichika asked with wide eyes.
"Well, you'd come with us," Angela said, motioning to Emily, who had remained silent during the explanation, and herself. "Sign a couple papers, swear a few oaths, and you do what we do. You would become an American for all intents and purposes and you would be a part of an organization that fights for freedom and democracy around the world."
Emily raised an eyebrow at the final part of that sentence.
"Kind of like special forces, real cool guy military stuff. We aren't technically part of the U.S military, but we work in tandem with them. It's a warrior's lifestyle, you'd be like your sister in that sense," Angela continued.
Ichika's eyes lit up at the last part. Angela smiled, hook line and very much sinker.
"I'd like to do this," Ichika said determinedly.
"I'll warn you, I can't guarantee you will be the same person if you choose this way of life, probably forever. And if you fail to meet our expectations… you will immediately be sent to the special witness protection program."
Ichika's eyebrows scrunched up as he considered his future. He wanted to go home, he wanted to have dinner with Chifuyu-nee and laugh about the dumbest stuff. But he needed to fix the situation he was in by himself. His sister wouldn't always be there to help him, yesterday was testament to that.
He remembered asking his sister one time what a witness protection program was because he heard about it on t.v. She had told him it was like a prison in of itself and that she hoped he never had to go through anything like that. Chifuyu-nee was almost never wrong, that's probably what made her so strong.
Ichika didn't want that sort of life, he wanted freedom. If giving his all for these people who had been nothing but kind to him and their country, then he would do it. If America was his key to freedom, he would take it.
"I'll do it, I'll fight and become strong like my sister."
"I see, I suppose I should say welcome to the team then," Angela congratulated with a grin, giving Ichika a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"Welcome to FOXHOUND."