Disclaimer: Calmly, I exclaim, "I do proclaim to disclaim the claim that I claim anything claimable in this as my own claimed claim."

Yes, that does make sense. No, I'm not going to clarify it.

Chapter 8: Tru7h and Vent Core Frog Blasting

Light and warmth were the first two things Mitsune was aware of when she awoke the next morning.

The light was familiar to her sleepy mind, a clear sign that morning had come once again. Yet this morning was quite chilly, as the previous one had been; why, then, did she still feel so warm?

When she opened her eyes, she saw the answer lying next to her, still fast asleep and breathing softly scarcely two inches in front of her.

More accurately, they were laying together loosely wrapped in each other's arms, with their legs partially intertwined between one another. His face bore no worry, no stress, no nervousness as it had so often in the past; right now, his expression reflected his natural gentleness and kindhearted soul.

Not wanting to wake him, she took the opportunity to register and enjoy the sensation of her boyfriend in such close contact beneath her sheets. 'I could definitely get used to doing this,' she thought to herself. She was, of course, no stranger to physical intimacy, having sought it out more actively than most both for personal enjoyment and "practical" reasons. However, being consistently close to one person in particular was something different entirely, and she was quickly learning that the difference was more worthwhile than she'd imagined it to be.

This morning was a case in point. She couldn't quite describe to herself how comfortable she felt right now: she was warm, secure, even a little excited, and she'd only just opened her eyes for the day! Sure, there would be a lot of difficulties ahead just to maintain the privilege of having this, but even now, it felt worth the effort. It was incredible to her mind, so used to taking the easy way out of things whenever possible and always willing to opt for a little less to reduce her own effort, that something would actually cause her to feel that way. Yet somehow, it did.

Deep down, she knew, this was only the beginning. She'd kick herself in the ass for not having started sooner, but at the moment she liked her legs where they currently were, thank you.

She could feel his breath tickling over her bare flesh, sending little shivers tingling up and down her spine. Since they had packed summer pajamas, neither had very long sleeves on top or on the bottom; practically speaking, they were skin-to-skin over large portions of their anatomy. The sensation of each point of contact felt magnified a hundredfold, such that even the smallest shifts and movements sent jolts of electric heat and pleasure lancing through her flesh.

Her left thigh in particular, she suddenly realized, was very close to an interesting part of his person indeed, close enough to feel the excess heat radiating from the area like a fresh brand drawn from a fire, hidden just beneath his clothing.

Before her mind could begin to imagine if she could get away with moving just a little closer without waking him, he shifted a little in his sleep and accidentally did it for her. She barely kept a surprised "Eeep!" from escaping her lips as she felt her leg suddenly contact what felt like the tip of something beneath his right pantleg, or more accurately a good portion of its side. Her mind already had a good idea of what it was, though the powerful tingling twinges up, around, and through her thigh from the point of contact made control over her own brain increasingly difficult. What clear thought were still making their way through it weren't helping, either; instead, they were quickly trying to calculate, among other things, just how far down his thigh hers currently was. If anything, the answers she was coming up with were almost unbelievable, even if she accounted for mental exaggeration!

Though the contact lasted only about twenty or thirty seconds before another slight shift drew it away, it seemed to her like a small eternity in her mind. Vaguely, she remembered an amusing (at the time) tidbit from a health class years ago, concerning the term morning wood. Clearly, they hadn't been kidding about it! A minute later, she noticed that Keitaro finally began to awaken.

Like Mitsune, he slowly rose to the point of consciousness with a lingering feeling of warmth, content, and pleasure, though at first the cause of these feelings was completely unknown and unclear. Within a moment, however, he registered Mitsune's presence in front of, on, and very much around him, and almost jumped out of his own skin before the memory of why she (or, more accurately, why he) was there stopped him from doing so. Then the feelings began to become more clear to him: the delightful touch of her skin on his, the warmth of her body next to him, the comfortable but thrilling weight of her arms and legs on and between his own…

…and the familiar, aching sensation of a long, thick part of him in full morning glory, angling down one of his pantlegs and only an inch away from making direct contact with her! He froze, suddenly very awake and very afraid she would notice, not realizing that she already had.

"Morning, sleepyhead!" she whispered to him with a smile, noting with amusement and interest the sudden, petrified look on his face as he began to piece together their current position.

"G-good morning," he almost squeaked out, too terrified to move a muscle in the wrong direction. With her legs scissored into his, he couldn't easily move away without his own anatomy betraying him in the process.

Mitsune almost burst out giggling at the look on his face. Evidently, he had become aware of the same thing she just had, and if the blood draining from his face was going anywhere in particular, it was probably only making matters even worse for him! But Mitsune wasn't going to let fear get the best of him like that, and she definitely wasn't going to have him shying away from sharing a part of the best of himself for fear of her reaction, either.

So she took the initiative instead.

Before he could react, escape, or get the thing under control, she pulled his whole body directly against hers in a tight embrace. A surprisingly long, thick section of her thigh now became immediately aware of something that definitely wasn't part of his leg. His whole body twitched and tensed with shock, terror, and panic, but she made no indication of pulling away, freaking out, getting angry, or acting the least bit surprised. "Don't worry about it," she said to him very simply, evoking a confused expression on his face she couldn't see. "You forget: I actually like it."

In the span of five seconds, Keitaro's entire life flashed before one eye while a hundred possible futures, almost all ending with his painful and premature end, flashed across the other. When nothing in the present matched with any of it, his brain finally registered what she was saying to him, what she was doing. Slowly, almost painfully, the terror began to diminish from his mind and body, as he began to grasp the concept that she was still holding him against herself, had not even tried pulling away, and evidently did not want to kill him for the "indisputable proof" of his "perversion" pressing into her leg. If anything, she seemed to be holding him all the closer because of it! He felt her hands running across his back, felt her squirm into, rather than away, from him, and finally allowed himself the liberty to almost pass out with pleasure from it.

She, meanwhile, felt the tension finally leaving his body as his mind caught up with her intent, and took it as a sign to continue. When she nuzzled into him, almost like a cat rubbing against someone's leg, she felt him shudder, moan, and more importantly begin to follow her lead. Within a moment, she found herself following his, as his instinctive movements started sending divine sensations all throughout her form in mad arcs and licks of pleasure. She felt his lips brushing, attaching, moving, along the edge of her jaw down the side of her neck, her mind slipping into an increased state shocked pleasure as they went. Her hips moved of their own accord, shifting forward until his thigh made contact with a point that made her whole torso light on fire. Soft, almost mewling moans began forming in her throat as her body began to respond as well…

A loud sneeze brought all motion to a sudden, screeching halt as both froze in sudden surprise and terror where they were, their gazes shifting toward the door. From down the hallway, they heard heavy footsteps approach, pad past the door, and continue straight past it toward the bathroom further down. When they heard the distant sound of a door sliding shut, they released the breath they'd been holding almost simultaneously. Looking at one another again, and seeing each other's flushed expressions, they couldn't stop themselves from bursting into fits of giggling.

"You suppose he heard us?" Keitaro asked finally, getting control of himself again.

"I dunno, but if he did, we'll never hear the end of it," she replied, still giggling.

Moaning slightly in frustration, they reluctantly decided to get up and straighten themselves up as best they could, struggling all the while to reign in their rapid heartbeats and colorful countenances. A moment later, the two enamored guests managed to escape to the kitchen together before their host could spot them.

**********

From the bathroom, Seta sighed in relief. As he'd thought, Keitaro's ki had gained strength overnight; however, the magnitude of the increase surprised him clear out of a sound sleep this morning. Though Seta knew full well that positive emotion and rest could fuel such an increase to a high degree, it had done so for Keitaro almost too quickly.

Keitaro was, without a doubt now, quite ready in the physical sense of the word. If he became any more ready, Seta wouldn't have enough time to explain what he needed to be ready for.

On a hunch, Seta noisily made his way to the bathroom at that point, as quickly as he could. Sure enough, he sensed the increase halt abruptly and subside to a degree. Fortunately, it didn't seem to spike again.

'Should've known better than to let them sleep in the same room like that, I guess,' he thought to himself. 'Oh, well…I guess it doesn't matter anymore, anyway; they'll be needing any time they can get from here on out as it is.'

He would have to start telling them this morning. He couldn't wait any longer, and didn't need to now.

Company would soon be coming.

Keitaro couldn't believe what Seta was telling him.

"What!? We have to go back today!?"

Seta shook his head. "No, not exactly. We won't be headed back to the Hinata for some time yet, but we're going to have to leave here very soon. This afternoon at the very latest."

"Why? Why now?" Kitsune demanded, looking even more disappointed by the news than Keitaro. 'Spit, we were that close…'

"I'm sorry, but we've already waited here now as long as I dare."

Keitaro picked up the odd choice of words almost immediately. "What do you mean, as long as you dare? What's going on here, Seta?" he asked as a pit in his stomach began to form. He felt the pangs of his nagging doubts reemerging; he knew this had been too good to be true, too good to last.

Seta sighed, a look of sadness crossing his face for an instant before his expression turned deadly serious. "You're feeling better and fully rested, am I correct?"

"Well…yeah, but…" Keitaro reluctantly admitted. A part of him had hoped they could stay at least another day, but there was no denying he was feeling better than he had in years; physically speaking, he felt like he could dip an arm in boiling oil and heal it fully in record time if he had to, and not even break a sweat doing it.

Not that he wanted to!

"Good. You're going to need it, and very soon."

"What? Why?" the young Urashima asked, surprised.

But Seta said nothing further on the matter. Instead, he told them, "Finish eating, dress comfortably, and pack your things completely. Don't waste any time doing it if you can, and bring everything with you to the armory when you're finished. I'll be waiting for you there."

Something in the grave, absolute tone the normally upbeat and casual Toudai professor was using finally convinced Keitaro he was being serious. He didn't know what was wrong, or what it had to do with them, but when a man as completely reckless and adventure-seeking as Noriyasu Seta was basically telling you to get ready to run for the hills, chances were you didn't want to hang around dilly-dallying much longer if you still valued your own existence. Reluctantly, Keitaro relented. "All right. But I want to know what's going on the moment we're ready," he said.

Mitsune cringed inwardly. She had already all but forgotten the way Haruka had acted before the whole trip got started; now, she wished she'd remembered to ask about it sooner. 'This can't be good,' she thought as both she and Keitaro hurried to do as Seta had asked. She felt even more uneasy about where he'd asked them to meet him, not liking the possible implications in the least.

As though to confirm her fears, a pile of weaponry lay on the ground of the armory when they entered it fifteen minutes later. "Watch your step," Seta warned them as he added the ornate katana he'd shown Keitaro to the mix.

"What the heck is all the hardware for?" she asked, then nervously joked, "Don't tell me the other girls found out where we were already!"

"Were the case scenario only so mild, Konno-san," Seta remarked sadly. "No, I'm afraid this is only part of what we'll need before long. The rest, however, is going to take a bit more explanation."

Keitaro glanced at the pile: aside from the sword, there were a number of deadly-looking armaments large and small, from a gigantic axe to a pouch full of kunai; there were knives, ancient talismans, golfball-sized smoke bombs, and strange devices he'd never seen before, all drawn from the shelves and displays seemingly at random. 'More explanation? What about explaining all this stuff first!?' he thought hopelessly.

Seta, however, wasn't waiting to explain anything just yet. Instead, he was now moving behind a suit of particularly fine samurai armor from the 14th century, running his hand along the wall. Keitaro heard something click as it reach a point near the edge, and to his surprise an entire section of the paneling swung slowly open. "This," Seta said as it opened, "is what needs explanation the most."

Behind the hidden panel, propped on a stand not unlike one of those in the rest of the room, was one of the strangest looking suits of armor Keitaro had ever seen.

At first glance, it looked like someone had cut segments of shell out of a gigantic tortoise and used them as layered plates, somehow sewn together with something that resembled the scaly skin of a large fish or reptile, all in a humanoid shape. A closer look, however, revealed the material was unlike anything he'd seen made by man or nature. The scales, if scales they were, felt hard as diamond; how they connected to either each other or the armor itself was hidden beneath their closely overlapped pattern, but the entire system allowed them to flex easily without forming gaps. The plates felt like a combination of steel and shell, and were easily harder than both combined.

It almost looked alive, like it had been made of some mythic creature; yet it clearly wasn't simply made of shell and hide.

"What…is this thing?" Keitaro asked, simple curiosity overcoming all his other thoughts and emotions for a moment as he ran his hand over its surface.

"This, Keitaro, is the most important find I have ever made in my career, and is quite possibly the only one of its kind in the world. Basically put, it is a metallo-organic construct, a half-alive creature grown on, into, and possibly with its own alloyed metallic matrices into a specific form. It is older than anything else here by far, and yet is much stronger by far in many ways."

"You mean…that thing's alive!?" Mitsune asked almost squeamishly, not sure if she should feel fascinated or completely grossed out.

"In a sense, yes, though not in the way you're probably thinking of. Unlike a living creature, or plant, or anything else along those lines, it is not an organism that grows or acquires its own energy; instead, it feeds off, refines, and re-channels ki energy, growing itself using manmade and organic materials into a directed shape and form. Each segment of this armor consists of a part of the same organism, grown such that the pieces are separate but can readily bond to one another at will, namely at the will of the suit's wearer."

"What do you mean?" Keitaro inquired.

Seta looked at him directly. "What I mean is that the innermost layer forms a sort of bio-interface between the organism itself, its non-organic armored growth matrices, and the person wearing it. Like I said, it is not alive in the traditional sense, but lives through the influence of a human in a semi-symbiotic relationship. Each person generates ki energy, as you yourself know quite well. You can think of the suit as an armored amplifier powered by the excess ki energy you generate. It stores it, magnifies it, uses it to repair damage to itself almost automatically, and allows its wearer to control their own ki to a degree far beyond what they normally might think possible. On its own, the materials of the suit themselves are nearly indestructible; I've already seen this thing get hit by fifty-caliber rounds in both the plates and the scaled connections between them without so much as a scratch, and I suspect they could stop a heck of a lot more than that just as easily. It's true potential, however, depends on who is wearing it. A regular person, untrained and not particularly powerful, might find that they become stronger, faster, perhaps even capable of a few things not otherwise possible. Someone trained in a ki-cemtered martial art, on the other hand, would find themselves capable of considerably more; their skills would become far more potent, more powerful, more precise in their control and range. Motoko, for instance, might find herself surpassing the level of her older sister with relative ease while wearing this suit, and her sister is one of the most powerful and skilled warriors alive today.

"Imagine, then, if someone with both great skill and unusually powerful ki were to use this? Someone whose natural talent for both generating and controlling their own physical, mental, and spiritual energies was beyond that of a normal person? Such individuals are rather rare, but perhaps two or three exist at any given time. In the hands of such a person, this suit shows its true power in spectacular and practically unstoppable fashion, creating a perfect warrior capable of either incredible acts of heroism or catastrophic destruction. All such individuals are capable of the latter, and there has been at least one point in history when one such individual wrought such hellish power against the world using such a suit as this. Originally, in fact, there were two such suits, and that person managed to single-handedly destroy almost the entire ancient turtle civilization I so often search for and study the ruins of."

"On his own?" Mitsune asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes…very much on his own, and by his own hand. He was quite strong, and quite evil; had not another been able to stop him, he might have destroyed quite a few more civilizations as well. That other used the very suit you see here, and he all but destroyed the other suit with its wearer in the process; ever since then, the suit has been used, protected, and hidden by others like him for a time; some of these you might have heard about, for they often lie at the source of heroic legendary figures today. Ever since that first time, however, all that know of this armor have either tried to use it for good and protect both its existence and usage, or have tried to gain possession of it and use it as the other suit was used: for destruction."

At this point, he looked Keitaro in the eye pointedly. "That's where you come into this, Keitaro. You see, it is only once in perhaps a hundred generations that an individual comes along with both the power to truly wield this suit to its fullest extent, and the strength of character to wield it properly in the process. Trust me, there are quite a few people even now that might be able to use its true power, and of them fewer still know of its very existence. It is one such individual, in fact, that is the reason we must soon leave. He is quite strong on his own, and has many resources at his disposal. He seeks this very suit, though he only suspects I might know where to find it; be grateful he doesn't know I have it, or we'd be dead already! But he feels the suit can wait; even if someone were to wear it and face him, he'd be able to overwhelm them. Even some of the more powerful martial arts masters of today wouldn't stand a chance, with the suit or without it. If he gained the suit, of course, he'd be practically unstoppable."

"If he's that strong, what are we supposed to do about him?" Keitaro asked.

"Like I said," Seta calmly replied, "that's where you come in."

Keitaro Urashima, two-time ronin and oft-downtrodden girl's dorm kanrinin, blinked in surprise. "You can't be serious," he said, his mind unable or unwilling to accept what Seta was implying.

"I am very serious, Urashima-san."

"But…I'm just a…a…"

"Just what, Keitaro? Just a regular guy, using what skills he has to deal with a chronic case of bad luck as he tries to live as close to a normal life as he can?" Seta asked. "Let me ask you this: how many 'regular guys' do you know that could do all that you have done, in the manner you've done it? I, for one, could not, even though I possess many of the same skills and a fair proportion of the same luck! In your place, I might last a short while, but not long. A few days ago, you deflected a multi-ton vehicle full of people out of your path using your ki, even caught unawares and in an already-overtaxed state of being; I doubt there are many who could pull off such a feat with full rest and a lifetime's worth of training, let alone with little more than an instant to prepare themselves. Naru can hit you through walls with a full-strength hit; you could drive someone twice your size through the side of a mountain if you did the same! There are very few at that level at their very peak, Keitaro, yet you proved yourself to be as much to over fifty eyewitnesses, and that was at your lowest point. You're not just a regular guy, not by the half."

Mitsune did a double take, finally realizing where this was all going. "Hold on a sec, Seta, are you telling me Kei-kun here is—"

"—destined to be a hero in mythic battle gear, destined to fight great evils and win? Yes, Kitsune, he is. I believe," Seta said, pulling out the upper section of the suit from the display and handing it to him with great respect, "this armor was made to be your size, Keitaro. If you accept it, then try it on now."

Mitsune's jaw dropped. Keitaro looked at the segment of the suit in his hands, vaguely registering its surprising weight and warmth; he looked back up at Seta, then at Mitsune, then back to the suit. "What happens if I don't?"

Seta frowned sadly. "If you do not…then you, I, and Kitsune here will either be among the first to die or among the last of many. And that depends on how long and far we can run, keeping it secret and hidden as we would have to keep you, and how much luck we have on the way. If you do accept this, and accept it now…then we have a good chance of surviving, along with many others besides ourselves; if you fail, the result will eventually be the same as if you had chosen not to accept, though perhaps such fate would be delayed and forestalled by your actions. Either way, I cannot make the choice for you, Urashima-san; I will support you as best I can either way, as long as I can. All I can guarantee you is that they are coming for you even as we speak. By now, they will know exactly who you are, and who you know as well; they may already be on their way here. Trust me, they will stop at nothing to find you and kill you if they can, and if they cannot find you they will go after those you know to get to you. That, at least, Haruka and I have been able to hinder them from doing for the moment, but that will not be the case for long; in the meantime we are not safe here, and you least of all."

Keitaro's breath left his lungs very slowly, a chill going through his entire body. Had it been only him that was on the line, he might have chosen not to get involved with such a thing as this, to escape on his own and draw away whatever malevolent forces wanted to cease his existence. But if they knew who he was, none of them would be safe; if they couldn't find him, they'd go after his friends, his family...even Kitsune. Seta knew more about this than he did, and might have ways of putting off the inevitable; but if they truly sought to find and kill him, they would have no qualms about using those he cared about as bait, or torturing and killing them to get his whereabouts from their lips, whether they knew them or not.

Keitaro Urashima hated fighting, no matter how good he was at it. He knew he was powerful, but would rather die than abuse it willingly and cause others needless harm. He would, however, fight to his last breath in a heartbeat to defend those he cared about the most if he had to. If he put on this suit, this relic of some ancient civilization that possessed the potential to destroy their very existence if he didn't stop it himself, then a fight would be inevitable, and just as inevitably they would be caught in the middle of it; he silently prayed that whatever it was that the heavy hunk of material in his hands would allow him to do, it would at least help him protect them all as best he could.

After a long moment, he decided, and spoke.

"…alright. I'll…I'll wear it. I don't like it, but I'll do it."

Seta let out a sigh of relief, as did (a little more quietly) Kitsune. "Then take off your shirt," he said.

In spite of the stark seriousness of the situation, Keitaro was abrubtly taken aback by the absurd instruction. "Huh!? Why ?"

"You won't need it under the armor; it works better that way," Seta replied.

"Oh, right, if you say so I guess…" Keitaro glanced nervously at Mitsune, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about stripping in front of her. "Uh…"

Mitsune face-palmed and rolled her eyes. "I'm not gonna run screaming from the room just because you're taking your shirt off, Kei-kun," she said, chuckling as his face colored slightly.

She watched as he removed his shirt carefully and quickly. She'd only glimpsed at a portion of his chest days earlier, and had seen only a part of his muscularity…and his scars. Now, she had an unobstructed view, and the sight was truly astounding.

Seta whistled in a falling tone at the sight. There were literally dozens of fading but visible scars all over his small, well-built frame; though the most recent gash had faded considerably, it still stood out the most among them. Each told the story of a serious injury he'd been through, and the stories they told were even more numerous and grim than she'd ever imagined. Yet the surface across which they told their tales was strong and solid like an unbroken rock standing in the face of a hundred storms.

"I've had some pretty bad scrapes over the years, Keitaro," Seta commented, "but I think you've already borne twice as much in the last six months as I've had in my entire career, if not more!"

Keitaro looked down at the marks, as though for the first time. "I've…never really given them that much thought, not until just lately. They all just…fade away after a while anyway. There's a lot of them I can't even see anymore. They're not that bad; I mean, I can heal them fast enough, so…" He scratched his head, feeling a little more self-conscious about them now than he'd ever been before.

Mitsune felt almost ready to cry, looking at the proof of his last year of hell literally in the flesh. "But it isn't right, Kei! I don't care who you are or what you've done, no one deserves all that, and you least of all."

"She's right, Keitaro," Seta said gravely. "Whatever else happens, that—" he indicated the marks of injury, "has got to stop. I don't care how good at healing you are; nobody can survive that forever, not even the strongest among us. It is indeed incredible that you have made it this far as it is, and that only further convinces me of all I've just told you. Regardless, however, I think even you realize you can't keep letting that happen."

"I know, I know I can't, but…" Keitaro sighed in frustration.

"No buts! We're not gonna let you turn yourself into chopped suey anymore, okay?" his girlfriend mock-scolded him before drawing him into a tight hug. "I know I'm not gonna let it happen. Not now, not ever. Okay?"

Keitaro sighed again and returned the hug. "Alright. In that case…I'd better put this thing on."

Releasing him, she helped him get the top half of the suit on. It was fairly weighty, but not overly so. Surprisingly, the inside layer of the armor was lined with a soft, spongy material coated with a soft, almost furry material; it felt almost gel-like beneath the surface, but resilient, kind of like a camping foam with hair.

"Huh…" he said, moving around in it a bit; as soon as it had fully seated on his form, it felt significantly lighter than it had in his hands. "It feels…kinda comfy."

The pants were next. This time, his objections were a bit more understandable, so Seta and Mitsune agreed to turn away to allow him a little more privacy to change his pants for the armored breeches. "Remember, Keitaro: the suit works best with direct skin contact. So wear nothing between it and your skin."

Keitaro blanched. "Isn't…partial contact enough?"

"Nope."

Mitsune giggled at the thought of her boyfriend going commando behind her. Keitaro, meanwhile, was trying not to go beet red as he did. When the armored pants went on, he felt the edges of the two pieces of armor contact each other at the waistline. To his surprise, they all but sealed together seamlessly right before his eyes, forming a continuous layer of unbroken protection that no amount of pulling seemed to be able to break, yet which easily came undone at a touch if he willed it to. 'Damn…this thing really is alive or something,' he thought to himself.

A moment later, Keitaro gave them the all clear to turn around again. When they did, they saw that he had donned not only the pants, but the boots and gauntlets as well. These, too, had sealed themselves at the seams. All that remained now was the helm, which he now held in his plated, gloved hands. Mitsune blinked to herself. Not only did the armor fit him perfectly, but it radically enhanced his overall appearance in many ways. The boots were thick-soled, making him look taller than he did in his normal shoes, which were quite flat; the placement of each piece of plating conformed to his body like a glove while accentuating it in all the right places. Each joint was open and flexible, but not at all unprotected; he already looked formidable, almost intimidating, like a warrior out of a lost age wearing square-rimmed glasses. The material of the shirt went up his neck to the base of his skull, covered in the same hard scales as the rest of him. As he put the helm on his head, the only thing not completely covered was his face, which was neatly framed by the slightly visor-rimmed open front.

The moment the helmet sealed itself in place, she felt a strange sense of…something, like a soft but powerful glow, emanate outward from him. It was like his presence expanded itself, the essence of him somehow filling the room around her.

Then again, maybe she was just getting a bit giddy. Either way, she thought, he now looked like the combination of badass powerhous and sweet-natured hotness she had recently seen in him, and she liked it.

Seta grinned. "So, how does it feel?"

Keitaro turned his hands over, flexing them experimentally. "I dunno…it's strange. It feels…almost weightless, from the inside. But it's almost warm, like…like it was a part of my body, only it isn't." He touched a nearby wall, reacting with surprise at the light contact he made. "It's almost like I can feel the outside surface, as in through the material itself…I can't explain it."

Seta nodded. "The suit is charged through your excess ki in an even, consistent manner, and functions on that basis. In other words, so long as you are wearing it, it is like a part of your body, a sort of tough second skin. When you channel your ki for any purpose, you'll find the suit will increase both the strength and level of control you have in the process. The weighlessness is partially it supporting its own weight through the energy it's absorbing, and partially due to the increase it gives to your natural strength. For example…" He went to the center of the room and, showing considerable strain, lifted the massive axe with both arms by the handle, nearly toppling sideways as he hefted its bulk. "Try…holding… onto...THIS!" he said, tossing the massive thing about a foot and a half over to Keitaro.

Reacting without thinking, Keitaro's gauntlet-covered hands caught the slow-moving battle ax in mid-air effortlessly, though it looked easily big enough to knock him over. He could feel the weight of it as his armored hands gripped the handle, but found that he could support it quite easily, even one-handed. "What the—?"

Seta laughed heartily. "That axe was once used by a Korean general a little over 800 years ago. He was said to have been so strong, that he could punch the support pillar at the corner of a large structure and make the rafters on the roof shake. It weighs about a hundred pounds, and by all historical accounts he was one of those rare individuals capable of using it effectively. I found it during an expedition five years ago, and debated even bringing it back with me at the time, for obvious reasons! You can bring it along if you'd like; you'd probably be able to use it quite well with that armor. However, it might not be the most effective weapon I can give you at this point, at least not for today."

Keitaro looked at him, holding the thing casually near the head with one hand. "What about that sword you were showing me?"

"That is mine, thank you, and I'll be using it," Seta remarked huffily. "Besides which, it is only a two-body blade. If you're going to use a sword," he went toward the compartment again, reaching around one of the blind edges to grab something in the corner, "I've a better one for you to use."

If the armor had been unusual in Keitaro's eyes, the weapon Seta now brought forth was downright bizarre. It was in the form of a katana, or at least looked vaguely like one in terms of the blade and handle, but it was at least six inches longer than he might have expected. The handle and sheath seemed to be made of a similar material to his armor plating; in place of a pommel, two curved prongs like those of a sai sword hooked in the same direction as the tip. It resembled something he'd once seen, though he couldn't remember where. Carefully putting down the axe, he took the sword from Seta's hands and examined it closely. He felt the same odd feeling of connection when he touched the thing as he did when he put on the suit, like it was a long-lost extention of his own physical body. He drew the blade, and promptly saw his own reflection across it's length. The pattern along the blade was the most intricately beautiful design he'd ever seen, a work of art in and of itself. He didn't need to test the edge; he could feel the perfection of the angle's molecule-wide vertex through the blade itself, feeling it as though it were a tooth or a nail grown from his own flesh.

"…wow," he breathed. "Does this…"

"Belong with the suit? Well, I can tell you that it was made by the same hands, but I found the sword well before the suit itself. You see, they were hidden separately in very different places, so as to limit the chance someone with the wrong intentions would find and use the two together. If the suit is the ultimate channeling device of ki, the sword is the ultimate weapon for the same purpose. With it, even a regular person could quickly learn to blast their ki at will through the blade."

Keitaro sheathed the sword, his face lost in thought. "How do you know all this?"

"Partly because I've been studying it in secret for much of my career, and partly because I've worn it once before myself! Believe me, I probably don't even know the half of it to this day, for all I've learned. But what I do know is this: there are those who want that suit and sword, and not just the one I told you about, either. He's just the biggest threat among many. Most of them do not get along very well, and none of them like us at all. They have ties to the criminal world as deep as any mafia, and they have substantial manpower to accomplish their ends. Some know of the existence of either armor or sword, or both, and the others suspect something exists to their effect. They all know I know where they were hidden, but they do not know I already have both. What they all know is that I've been looking for someone that can defeat them all, even the worst of them. By now, they've figured out for themselves who you are, and are hunting you actively; if they don't know where you are yet, they will soon. Without that suit on, your ki will be detectable to them as it is to me, and they will be able to sense it from miles away; with it, the excess will be absorbed and stored, meaning you will be far less visible to them when at rest, but far more so the moment you use it to any truly significant degree."

"You mean, they can feel where he is right now?" Mitsune asked.

"Maybe not at the moment, but they will once they are close enough. I'd say that with the shielding effect of the suit, if they come within a quarter to a half-mile and can sense ki like either he or I can, he'll show up like a neon light in the dark."

"Lovely…how long do we have?" Keitaro asked.

"If we're lucky, we'll have a few hours head start to work with. If we're not, we'll be having company very shortly."

Mitsune looked pale. "They're coming here!? Now!?"

Seta nodded. "Just a question of how long before they arrive, I'm afraid. Even if they don't know we're here, they have plenty of people to patrol a large area, and they'll be doing just that soon enough if they haven't started already. The road here is pretty straightforward for miles, so the moment one of them takes it we'll be spotted fairly quickly. That's why we must get moving, now. I don't know about you, Keitaro, but I do not want to see the repair bill I'll get if they catch us here!"

Seta moved to the other side of the room. "Mitsune, you should be armed as well, and preferably with something you know how to use."

"Umm…I'm not really much of a fighter at all, Seta," she said, suddenly quite taken aback and afraid. "Hell, I don't think I could swing a sword right to save my life! The most I've ever done is shoot cans with my older brother's air rifle, and that was when we were kids!"

"Were you any good with it?" he asked.

"Umm…good enough to win a bet with him, once. Though he wasn't really that good of a shot to begin with."

"That's good enough for me." Seta opened a second secret compartment on the opposite wall, and both Kitsune's and Keitaro's jaws nearly dropped to the floor. If the entire room had been an armory of ancient weaponry, the compartment he now revealed was its modern, heavily laden counterpart. Handguns and grenades of every variety hung alongside rifles, shotguns, and even a small grenade launcher were mounted along the sides and back. On the floor were holsters, bulletproof vests, and freshly stocked boxes and piles of ammunition for everything.

Keitaro stared for half a moment. "Holy shit," he said.

"Hey, when you need to take on the powers that be, you might as well be armed to the teeth to do it," Seta remarked, pulling one of the medium-sized handguns and a holster. "I'd recommend taking whatever you can use and carry. I reserve only this Jericho for myself."

For the next few minutes, the group proceeded to pick weapons to their liking. Keitaro figured he'd be able to handle the bigger guns more easily with the suit on, so he picked one of the biggest he could find (a Desert Eagle Mark XIX, according to Seta; all Keitaro knew was that the bullets it used looked enormous). He attached a holster for it on his right hip, and tied his new sword on the left. To this, he added a decent-looking Remington 870 12-gauge shotgun, which he hung by a strap over his shoulder. Mitsune asked if any of the guns were better for a beginner; Seta gave her a pair of Glock 17C pistols, saying that they would be the closest thing to beginner's level guns he had. Both she and Seta put on the more modern bulletproof gear. Seta took his own sword, pistol, a clip of hand grenades, much of the equipment he'd laid out earlier, and, almost as an afterthought, grabbed a box of small explosives as well. All took as many extra clips of ammo and shells as they could comfortably carry.

When they were finished, Mitsune couldn't help but think they were either about to go to war with a small army (and likely win) or look like the most well-armed bunch of chumps on Earth, but she was glad at least two of them looked like they knew what they were doing. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, she couldn't help but admire the extra bit of tough coolness Keitaro's new gear seemed to give him. Hell, she doubted any of the Hinata girls would seriously dare take on someone that looked like that, even someone like Keitaro!

As they moved toward the front door, bags in hand and weapons loaded in their holsters, the sound of a telephone ringing made Seta (and subsequently the other two) freeze in their tracks. They heard it ring once, twice, then silence; a moment later, three rings, then quiet again; finally, one ring, then a cut short half-ring, and silence.

Seta checked his watch, and swore under his breath. "That's our cue to get moving now."

"What do you mean?" Keitaro asked.

"It means our friends are alive and well, and that our uninvited guests are on their way here. I'm afraid I'm going to have to drive a little less by the book than last time. Move!"

A.N.: Aaaaand there's the shotgun, folks! And it's the boomstick of the bunch, but not the only one. I picked the other guns a while ago; Seta's is a tribute to Spike from Cowboy Bebop, and though I'll be calling it by that name, it'll be in a configuration closer to its direct manufacturing descendent, the Magnum Research Baby Eagle (it's the same frame made by a different group, and uses a barrel and other parts meant for the bigger .45 AE rounds since the .41s the Jericho 941 was originally designed to shoot didn't catch on). The most specific research I did in my choices were the Glocks for Mitsune; I needed something that was a bit easier to handle, get ammo for (the 9x19mm cartridges are very common), and that didn't kick back, since Mitsune is the only one of the three without a great deal of experience to work with yet isn't exactly the sort of person I could see shying away that easily. Keitaro gets the bigger guns, as he will now be able to handle them the most effectively (to give you an idea, if you've ever seen RoboCop's main handgun, that's pretty much what I gave him); I also gave him the shotgun (I settled on the Remington 870; the ammo capacity is high, pump-action is definitely a must, and the stocks look decent where the ones on the Benellis look asinine in one way or another), at least for the moment.

Other things to note: title inspired by Marathon and Halo; next chapter will start right after Seta, Keitaro, and Mitsune left days earlier and focus on Haruka and the other ladies, and more besides, but be warned that I might be taking slightly longer with it as I've had quite a few new ideas to work in since the original version was written; and most importantly, be patient, for Keitaro and Kitsune will most certainly be getting busy with each other, but in good time.

Thanks for bearing with me so far.