Haigeki

by Xylix

His friends kidnapped by magical girls, Ranma is pushed beyond his limits to retrieve them.

6. Belly of the Beast

Author's Forward – Whew, after a long month I'm mostly through the worst of the catch up editing. Hopefully, I'll have the draft of chapter 10 complete by the time the next chapter is released with the resumption of standard progress there after.

Again, thanks to everyone that reviewed.

Beta reader: obsidian_fox

-oOo-

Chapter 6: Belly of the Beast

-oOo-

Pain was an old foe. I had trained against pain. I had defeated pain. I did not fear it. But this was not pain. This was agony.

With a helpless whimper, my fingers slipped from the silver frame bound to my head. A tiara, no different from the one Ukyou wore. I hadn't understood then, her weakness, but now it had been made real. Agony. The force of it was so great that even the briefest taste made me tremble at the prospect of facing more. Even the echoes of it held me on the ground, limbs twitching, thick drops of water gathering in my eyes and streaming across my cheeks.

But, for all the power agony held, I could not stay my hands. Slowly, fearfully, my fingers crawled their way back up to the headdress. Hesitantly, they touched the warm metal, tracing the ridges, and hoops of silver wire. Then, with all my strength, I pulled.

Silently, I cried out, my scream vanished by the clenching of my throat. It lasted a bare second. I didn't have the willpower left to try longer than that.

Curled up on the floor, I cursed myself. Useless. It was useless. Two days of erratic attempts, and I had yet to relieve myself of the tiara. If anything, my efforts became ever more feeble. That was the truth. I knew it, intellectually, even if I still rejected it emotionally. I would not remove the tiara with stubbornness and strength.

After several minutes spent recovering, I pulled myself from the floor and staggered over to the bed. Dispirited, I gazed at my prison. It was a simple room, not rich enough to be called gilded, but no stretch of imagination would deem it a dungeon.

My cell had an attached bathroom with a tub too small for a proper soak. The bed and living rooms were conjoined, the only sign of separation a short wall and a different colored carpet. The bedroom was tiny and contained a single dresser, a closet, and a European bed with a ruffled canopy. While it looked silly, it was comfortable. A bit too soft, but it was better than frozen rock.

The Institute had provided a broad selection of clothes, ranging from tomboyish to cute. Not a single garment could be called unisex, but the bulk of it was tolerable. In the bathroom were hygiene supplies and all the other things girls seemed to need, including makeup. Thus far, I had ignored the last, but I remained wary of its presence. I had no doubt that the Pretty Princess Institute would impose a dress code.

All in all, the biggest problem was the lack of entertainment. In the medium sized living room was a bookshelf filled tomes, dry texts interspersed with literature. A cabinet was filled with school supplies, and there were a pair of chairs and a desk for me to work on. If I was a diligent student, I would have had plenty to keep me occupied. Instead, I was already feeling constrained.

To absolve my boredom, I practiced. The living room was too small for serious training but, by shoving all the furniture to the side, I had enough space for slow kata and basic exercise.

As prisons went, it wasn't that bad. I had lived in worse. No, it was the Institute itself that was terrible. The looming threat of brainwashing had my nerves on end, and agony had worn me out emotionally. Then there were the rules.

I knew the first rule well. Any attempt to remove the tiara resulted in agony. Agony was nothing short of mind numbing, all consuming torture. It was a poisonous pain that burned its way into the brain and stuck. Two dozen times. I had tried to remove the tiara no more than that. At first it had been easy. Now, when I lifted my hands, they shook. When I set my fingers on the headdress, my stomach twisted. When I tightened my grip, my whole body would quiver and tears would leak from my eyes.

One day, I feared, I would get sick just thinking about it.

I'll try again. After lunch. I promised myself that. I had to promise it. If I didn't, I was sure I would start coming up with excuses to not try.

The second rule I had learned during my third, more refined, attempt to remove the tiara. External control of ki resulted in agony. It was a different agony than what came with the removal attempts. It was sharp, fast, hard, and utterly shattered my concentration. Really, the rule was pointless. The gem embedded choker that wrapped my neck already scrambled my control.

The double lock nature of the two devices tickled my pride. Unlike Ukyou, I was clearly too dangerous to be restrained by the tiara alone. But what little enthusiasm I gained from my captor's wariness was dampened by the fact the collar put a giant monkey wrench into my escape plans.

There were other, less obvious, rules. Time spent as a man would result in throbbing, five minute pulses of agony followed by a similar length periods of respite. The agony of remaining male was mild and, at first, caused no more than discomfort. However, with each pulse the agony grew worse. By the time two hours had passed it became great enough to put me on the ground writhing in pain.

Even my stubbornness had limits, which was why I was wearing my cursed form now.

Then, there was the rule I hated most of all. Don't step out the door.

It was silly how I despised that rule over all others, but there was a special sort of cruelty to it. You see, my room was unlocked. There was no guard standing outside to stop me. There were no barriers put down to slow my escape. By all rights, I should have been free to walk away.

A lie.

If I stepped out of the room, I would receive agony. The true nastiness, however, was only revealed to those that persisted. With each step taken, the agony grew worse. It pierced the brain with thirty second pulses followed by tiny, ten second gaps for recovery.

Thirty paces. That's how far I had made it before agony had knocked me unconscious.

What had followed, had been hell. Thirty paces should have taken me half that many seconds to cross, but stricken by agony it had eaten five minutes. Five minutes of disorientation, hallucination, and pain. Five minutes of crawling across the floor. Five minutes of trying to remember where I was and what I needed to do.

Five minutes. I didn't remember any of it except the suffering. It was pain, endless pain, until I had reached the edge of the door.

The scar that had left was so deep that I had yet to muster the courage to try again. Likely, I never would.

Did that make me a coward? Did that make me weak? I didn't know. But I knew if I could just get the damn tiara off it wouldn't matter. The tiara was the linchpin. While that device was welded to my head, there was little hope for escape. That was the conclusion I had reached.

So, with erratic breath and quaking hands, I grasped the headdress once again. My thumb traced the uneven surface, counting the glass gems embedded in the silver frame.

One more try. Thats all. Just one. Come on, Ranma, you can do this.

The cheers of courage fell flat. I couldn't make my fingers clench.

I closed my eyes. I won't lose, I told myself. Not to Pop. Not to Happosai. Not to the Akina, Gondul, or even Chiyo. And most certainly not to an inanimate object.

My hands curled into fists. I took a deep breath and moved to-

"I wouldn't recommend doing that," a woman interrupted with a brisk voice.

I released the tiara, unable to hide my relief. The speaker had straight, shoulder length, black hair. She wore a simple sweater, a comfortable pair of dark pants, and low heeled pumps. Light makeup and austere jewelery emphasized beauty and professionalism. She surveyed me, lightly tapping a pen against the clipboard in her left hand.

"We haven't met. I am Doctor Kamiko Ogura. You may refer to me as Kamiko-sensei or Kamiko-senpai. While it is highly unusual, I'll be taking a direct involvement in your transition here at the Pretty Princess Institute."

I stared at Kamiko. I remembered her name. This was the woman who had her 'eye' on Ukyou and Akane. I also remembered the thread of fear in Ukyou's voice when she'd dropped the name 'Ogura'. No doubt, this woman's presence meant my brainwashing was about to begin.

Not to be intimidated, I put on a brave front.

"You can go to hell for all I care, Kamiko-chan."

Agony crashed into me and knocked me to the floor. I was inundated in torment for seconds. Then, as quickly as it came, it ceased. I drew shuddering breaths, and blinked away the tears so Kamiko wouldn't see.

"In the future I expect a more pleasant greeting," Kamiko said. She scanned the room, seeming unaware of my plight. "You have rearranged the furniture. Please place two chairs on either side of the table so that we will have somewhere to sit."

I rolled up off the ground and pointedly folded my arms and legs. Kamiko waited silently for me to move. I glared at her and dared the worst.

She delivered.

Agony dragged me into the abyss. Laughing, the gang stood over my broken body and kicked and kicked and kicked. Blood poured from my mouth. Darkness threatened my consciousness, but ice cold water dashed it aside. Female, surrounded by hate, the nightmare became-

I swayed and realized that agony had ended. With my vision blurred and the room awhirl, I wondered how it was that I was still sitting. I looked up at Kamiko. Her expression was unchanged. I trembled. My mouth suddenly felt dry.

I won't lose.

My gaze turned defiant.

Kamiko sighed. "Even after two days you still try to take the tiara off. Now this." Kamiko shook her head. "Your obstinacy is becoming problematic."

Kamiko stepped forward and snagged my chin with a hand. She jerked my head up, so that our gazes met. My glare did not waver when I stared into her hawk-like hazel eyes.

"Stand," she commanded.

I stood.

Huh?

I blinked and tried to grasp what had happened. Why did I- Self reflection was annihilated by a typhoon of heaven. The elation of my first victory. The thrill of riding swirling wind to a tornado's summit. The taste of parfait won through girlish charm. Napping on a warm night under a curtain of stars.

Bliss.

I staggered. Up became down and I started to fall. A strong hand caught my shoulder and offered support. I looked up and found Kamiko. Hunger. An incredible desire pierced the fog of my mind. Bliss. I needed more.

Kamiko patted me on the head. Each touch was the beat of a drum. I shivered, every nerve tingling with pleasure.

"Good girl," she said, her words echoing through my brain as though spoken by God. "Now rearrange the furniture, please."

I surged forward, eager to do as I was told. My hands settled on the small square table. I stopped. Pain shot through my head and ran like fire down my spine. What was I doing? I stared at the smooth, stained wood that was the table's top. My eyes drifted back to Kamiko.

The tall, professionally dressed woman wasn't paying any attention. She stood, her eyes fixated on random space while her pen tapped a steady beat against her clipboard.

I straighted my body and stepped away from the table. I wasn't going to help her. I'm Ranma Saotome, not a good girl. If Kamiko wanted me to move the furniture then she would damn well have to make me-

My body shuddered. My breath flowed fast. Incredible longing filled me like a cup. Yeah, she'd have to make me do it. Just like before. Come on, Kamiko, control me. Please. Please, control me. Just one more time...

Horrible disgust drowned out the feeling that had overtaken me.

Control... me? What was I thinking? Sick horror settled in. No. I would never allow it. But... what was I supposed to do? Be a good girl and move the furniture like she asked? That was... surrender.

My guts twisted. The rules of the game had been changed. If Kamiko could use bliss, then how was I supposed to fight? And if I did, how long would it be before I begged to be controlled?

Frustrated, I grabbed the table and jerked it back. In an act of petty vengeance, I positioned the chairs so that Kamiko had no more than a hand span of space between the table and the wall. Sitting heavily into my seat, which had the whole room behind it, I shot Kamiko a challenging look.

Go ahead, bitch. Punish me for this, too.

With mixed terror and anticipation, I watched Kamiko, wondering what she would do. The hazel eyed woman had a little frown on her lips. She drummed her fingers on the table's surface. Then, without saying anything, she slipping around back, but not before using her hips to shift the table a dozen centimeters further from the wall.

I relaxed and felt a pinch of disappointment. I wondered, was that because Kamiko had ignored my sabotage? or because she had not used bliss to force better behavior?

Kamiko set her clipboard on the table and uncapped her pen. The sound distracted me from my reverie.

"We will start with some simple questions to establish a baseline," Kamiko said. "Name, please."

I shot her an incredulous look. "What?"

Agony, at least that was what it would have been if it had lasted for more than a blink of an eye. This was a mere pin prick of suffering, an assault no more damaging than a slap to the face.

"Answer the question," Kamiko said, not looking up from her clipboard.

"Ranma Saotome," I grumbled. Annoyed and rebellious, I added, "But you can call me Ranma-sama if you prefer."

My smirk wavered when an infinitesimal flicker of bliss passed through me.

"Better," Kamiko commended. "Sex?"

I paused, my chair standing still at the threshold. If I went even a millimeter further back, the legs would slide from underneath it and I would fall. Frozen at that peak, I scrutinized Kamiko's expression. Her face gave no hint of her intention.

Not that the threat of agony would change my answer.

"Male." No bliss that time.

"Favorite color?" "Red." "Hobby?" "Martial Arts." "Favorite school subject?" "Gym."

"Hmm," Kamiko hummed. She went silent while she jotted down a long note.

I glared across the table. I was pissed. Pissed from the agony, and pissed that I had suffered only to delay stupid questions.

"Excellent," Kamiko said, folding the topmost paper over her clipboard. "Now let's go over this again. For your name, we'll stick with Saotome for now. Would you prefer I use chan or kohai?"

My face scrunched at both titles. "Just call me Ranma."

That answer earned me a prick of agony.

"Formality is important to the Institute, Saotome-chan," Kamiko said, scribbling something on her paper. "And, I'm sorry, but your given name is out. The Director has stated that she has no desire for a senshi fit with a masculine name. Remember that, please, because in a couple months I'll be asking you for an alternative. If the name you offer is not acceptable, I will assign one of my choosing."

Kamiko paused briefly, then asked the next question. "Sex?"

Here it was. Kamiko had thrown down the gauntlet and I was spoiling for a fight. I leaned forward slightly, and clenched my jaw in preparation for what was coming. Agony and bliss were terrifying weapons. But, no matter how strong they were, I had to face them if I wanted any hope of victory.

"Male."

Agony hit me with an almighty fist. I drowned in fire. Vomit surged up my throat only to be swallowed at the last instant. Spots danced across my eyes. I was staring at the ceiling, and my head hurt. Belatedly, I realized that my chair must have slid from underneath me.

"You know the correct answer to this question, Saotome-chan. Do not make this harder than it needs to be. Now, what is your sex?"

"I'm a guy," I growled.

A brutal lance of agony skewered my mind, and my whole body quaked with seizures. When I came out of it, I was trembling.

Kamiko did not relent. "Your sex, Saotome-chan."

It took twenty seconds and three shaking breaths to force myself to give an answer. Even then, when I said it, the word was muffled. "Male."

Fiery wind swirled around me, drier than a desert and hotter than the sun. In the dieing embers of Saffron's light, I held Akane's tiny body. The eyes of the doll slipped closed and the last wisps of ki dispersed into the burning air. No. No, no, no! Wake up! You can't die! Wake up, Akane. It was a desperate plea that went unheard. There were no gods to answer my prayers. She was dead. Deceased. Gone... forever. All my efforts had been for nothing.

I fell to my knees, my mouth filled with ash.

Agony vanished. The sobs of a broken girl greeted me. It was a long time before I realized that it was I who was crying. I clenched my throat and tried to choke back the tears, but they refused to stop.

"Please, answer the question, Saotome-chan." Kamiko said tiredly. Despite her weariness, her hazel eyes did not reveal the slightest spark of sympathy. "What is your sex?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't answer. Agony was too much. All I had left was silence. I held onto that, feeling weak and pathetic. I should have stood and shouted my answer. I should have cried out that I was a man over and over again until, by sheer force of will, I made Kamiko bow. That was the path to victory.

Instead, I laid on the ground and cried like a little girl.

And hated myself for it.

Kamiko waited, dribbling her fingers on the desk. After a while, she spoke. "Failure to answer isn't acceptable either, Saotome-chan."

Two minutes of recovery had me feeling a bit more daring. "Guess you're going to have to torture me into compliance then," I croaked.

"Operant conditioning, not torture," Kamiko explained. She stood and walked around the table. "Operant conditioning is a behavioral modification technique. A crude one, but it serves as a foundation for more sophisticated and thorough methods. The use of punishment is nothing more than a means, Saotome-chan. If you do not wish to be punished, please display at least a minimal level of cooperation."

Kamiko stooped down next to me and placed a hand on my forehead. Tingling waves of fire and ice spread from her touch. I drew a sharp breath and tensed. Don't – Please, internally I begged for both outcomes.

"Now, Saotome-chan, answer the question correctly, or I will coerce you into doing my bidding as I did when you refused to move the furniture."

"If you can do that, why bother asking?"

"Because direct use of my magic is highly addictive and can degrade cognition. The Director doesn't want a drooling idiot, and I have no desire to have simpering puppy nipping at my heels. I will not explain myself further. This is your last chance, Saotome-chan. Answer the question freely, or answer at the behest of my magic. What is your sex?"

Disgust. It twisted my insides. Damn it. Pride demanded I keep fighting, but logic insisted that I was being stupid. Then there was the allure of bliss. My whole body quivered in anticipation. I could already feel tingles of pleasure running along my skin. Fight. Fight, so that she'll control me. One more push and I'll be hers. Bliss. I hungered for it. It tunneled my vision and made me want to wrap myself in chains so that I could never escape.

Bliss would destroy me.

It's just a word, Ranma. A stupid word. You don't even have to mean it. Yet, if I said it now, how could I refuse the next time Kamiko asked? And it wouldn't end here. There would be more, and more, and more, until I gave her everything.

... win the war not the battle...

It was easy to think it. It hurt a lot more to eat my pride and say what had to be said.

"Right now, I'm a girl," I admitted between clenched teeth. "But next time I get hit by hot water, I'll be a guy again. That good enough for you?"

"I will accept that answer today," Kamiko stated.

She paused then moved her hand from my forehead to my tiara. An electric discharge pulsed through the headdress, and a chill swept through my skin causing goose bumps to rise. Kamiko stood and navigated back to her chair.

"I added a new rule to your tiara, Saotome-chan. Any future attempt to refer to yourself as a man, directly or indirectly, will result in punishment. If you wish to avoid additional rules in the future, I recommend your obedience be more prompt. Return to your seat, please."

"Fat chance of that," I grumbled, crawling off the floor and pulling my chair upright. It galled me to do as she asked, but I'd rather be sitting as an equal than be curled up on the ground in a pathetic lump.

"I suspect so," Kamiko replied, dry humor evident. "Next question. Favorite color?"

With a heavy thud I dropped my feet on the table. "Is there a point to this?" I winced when agony hit me, but refused to budge.

"Yes, Saotome-chan, there is. I would hardly bother wasting my time otherwise. Favorite color, please."

"Red."

Kamiko didn't write anything down. "I'm afraid your choices are white, black, and pink."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "What? Are 'girls' not allowed to like red?"

"Hardly. I favor red myself," Kamiko said. "The colors I listed are a product of your tenki, the major theme colors of which are: white, black, and pink. Please choose one, or I'll choose for you."

I opened my mouth to give a retort, then snapped it closed. "Black, then," I muttered.

I grimaced a second later. Black reminded me too much of Kodachi. Should have gone with white.

"Black it is." Kamiko said, scrawling on her clipboard. "Hobby?"

"Why bother asking if it has already been decided?"

"Just answer the question, Saotome-chan."

"Martial Arts, obviously. Or did you want me to say flower arranging?" I pulled my feet off the desk and let my chair fall forward with a clatter. "You know what? I'm sick of this. Just tell me what you want so we can get this over with."

"Your interest in martial arts is entirely acceptable, Saotome-chan. Doubly so with your status as a senshi," Kamiko said. "However, Michiko has asked that you take up a fabrication related skill. Since I doubt you have any meaningful input, I am writing down, 'martial arts and sewing'. Now please restate your hobbies, Saotome-chan." Kamiko paused, then added. "Correctly."

"I like martial arts and sewing," I said with a monotone voice. A pinch of bliss came with my answer.

Kamiko smiled. "Very good, Saotome-chan. Now the final question is 'favorite school subject'. A valid answer is any of the core educational classes. No, that does not include gym. It doesn't include home economics either, if you were wondering. Now please choose the subject you find most tolerable."

I folded my hands together in front of me in a girlish pose. "But, Kamiko-sensei, how could I possibly choose?" I gushed with saccharine sarcasm. "The beauty of an equation unraveling before me, the mysteries of the cosmos laid bare, the elegance of the written word, and the great wonders of the ancient world, I love them all!" I proclaimed, spreading my arms wide. I dropped my arms, and shifted to a deadpan a second later. "You aren't going to write that down, are you?"

Kamiko finished scrawling a long note on her clipboard. "Even with my talents I doubt I could inspire such a broad range of academic interest. 'Aspiring scholar,' was the answer I recorded. Be aware that, as a senshi, you will be required to score in the upper tenth on all national tests."

I snorted. The world would end before I scored in the upper tenth. Normally I floundered in the bottom half, and only pride made me study hard enough to achieve that. "We done then?"

"With this? Yes," Kamiko answered, standing.

Kamiko stepped around the table and stopped next to me. She unclipped several thin sheets of paper and placed them on the table. I glanced down to see what it was.

Required Lines. Repeat aloud morning and night. I read down further and scowled. The opening alone was enough to make me sick.

I exist to serve the Pretty Princess Institute. The Director's dreams are my dreams. The Director wants to build a better future. The Pretty Princess Institute is family. The senshi are my sisters. I love my sisters. I am so happy that I get to work with my sisters and make the world a better place. I trust the Director. The Director is a great woman. I will help the Director build an eternal dynasty...

... It went on and on. There were five more pages of that crap. I suspected that not a word of it was any better.

"What the hell-" A sudden surge of agony cut me off.

"Profanity is forbidden," Kamiko chided. "Be sure to complete those lines morning and night, Saotome-chan. Failure to do so will result in automatic and persistent punishment."

An ugly expression crossed my face and I continued to stare at the pages in front of me. Slowly, my fists tightened. Paper crinkled. Crsshh. I tore the bundle and half. Crsshh. I tore it again. Crsshh. And again. I continued to rip until nothing was left. Little knives of agony punished my disobedience, but I ignored them while I scattered the paper on the table.

"You can forget that," I said.

Kamiko sighed. "I will instruct the girls to bring additional copies when the tiara's punishment mechanism runs for a period greater than half-an-hour. Now follow me."

Kamiko walked across the room and to the forbidden door. I paced behind her, not willing to face agony for such a minor request. When she opened the door and stepped out, I found myself frozen at the edge. A shudder ran through me, and I closed my eyes. Come on, Ranma. There wasn't anything there to be scared of. Kamiko was not vile enough to lead me out here just to torture me. With a gulp, I stepped forward.

Nothing. I opened my eyes and met Kamiko's. Every muscle remained tense, waiting for inevitable agony. That stiffness vanished slowly.

Kamiko watched me for a few seconds then turned away and walked down the hall.

"As long as you are with an escort, you may leave your room, Saotome-chan," Kamiko explained. "The button above the light switch will call someone. Do not hesitate to use it. As a senshi, most of the Institute exists to serve you. However, please remain aware that you will need your escort's verbal permission to step out of the room. Also, you must remain with your escort at all times. I do not recommend violating that rule. The punishment is quite severe."

I gave a small grunt of acknowledgment. Room service button. Got it. I'd be sure to see how far I could abuse it in the next few days. Somehow I doubted 'help me escape' was a valid request, 'senshi' or not.

The corridors were beige and boring. Two turns took us past a small desk. The girl sitting behind it snapped her paperback closed and jumped to her feet as we walked by. She made a small curtsy in our direction, which Kamiko answered with a dismissive nod. Uninterested, I switched my eyes back to the intermittent doors, each identified by numbered plaques on the side.

Was Akane behind one of them, I wondered. How was she holding out? It was hard for me to imagine Akane taking the Institute's abuse without putting up a fuss. A fuss that would be punished with agony. In two days I had suffered greater torment than ever before. Akane had been here longer than that.

How long? I didn't know. If I added my time at the Institute to the time before my rescue I got four days. But my perspective was skewed. I had fought Gondul in the cathedral. Afterwards, I had awoken in my one-bedroom cell. The time between was missing. My gut feeling was that I had been out for less than a week but more than a day. However, if I went by how my wounds had healed, I would have guessed a period closer to a month.

I assuaged my fears by reminding myself that this was a magical girl school and, as such, they had access to magic. It was hard to believe that the Institute had kept me out while my injuries healed naturally.

Either way, the missing time was frightening. The Institute had already used it to weld a tiara to my head and further chain me with the choker. And that was only the things I knew about. Had the Institute done something even more nefarious? I didn't know. I didn't sense or feel anything different about myself, so I figured I was alright. Akane, on the other hand, remained a mystery.

Was she already like Kodachi, a twisted toy that bowed and scraped for her master? I didn't want to believe it. No, I outright refused to believe it. I told myself that Akane was just like Ukyou, an imprisoned soldier biding her time until an opportunity for escape revealed itself.

It was a fantasy that rotted away into doubt. It wasn't enough to tell myself Akane was okay. I needed to know it. I had to see, with my own eyes, whether she could still be saved. I glanced up at Kamiko. I knew she would know and, as much as I didn't like the idea of asking her anything, Akane was more important.

"Akane," I broached, as we stepped into the cathedral. "Can I see her?"

Our footsteps echoed off the stone floor. Indigo and yellow light filtered through the stained glass windows and illuminated the dim chamber. The cathedral was empty, and there were no signs of the battle I had fought. The pews stood untouched and the ancient walls were undamaged. We moved through the temple quickly, exiting through an eastern pair of doors that took me into the more familiar school-like wing.

The east-wing was repaired but ragged. An entire hall remained blocked off by yellow tape, and many of the walls had fissures running through them. We walked beneath a giant hole through which I could see the second floor. As severe as it was, that the school had been rebuilt to this extent was impressive.

"You may see Akane after your first adjustment," Kamiko answered, climbing a stairwell to the third floor. "But only if you become more cooperative."

I recognized this part of the building. We were not far from the faculty offices. "How is she doing?" I pressed.

"Akane had a rough start. But, since her adjustment, she has been adapting quickly. Not the answer you desired, I'm sure."

Kamiko stopped at the top of the stairs. A pair of girls rushed toward us. Lilac took the lead, dragging behind her a terrified brownish-blond I didn't recognize.

"Yes, Naomi-chan?" Kamiko asked, sounding annoyed.

Naomi, or Lilac as I thought of her, came to a halt in front of Kamiko, and dipped into curtsy. The other girl attempted the same, but stumbled forward when Lilac jerked her to the front.

"Ogura-sensei," Lilac started briskly. "Kanade refuses to-"

"Ahem," Kamiko interrupted. "I believe there are two senshi present. Greet Saotome-chan properly. Sama or hime will do."

As much as it would have amused me to watch Lilac grovel, I didn't find pleasant the idea of making the other girl do the same.

"Don't bother. Nobody needs to be bowing to me."

"Formality will not broken. Not by you, Saotome-chan, and not by them," Kamiko countermanded. "Quickly, please, then we'll proceed to my office."

Lilac's face flushed red with embarrassment, and she shot me a glance of barely smothered murder. Nevertheless, Lilac dipped into formal curtsy. "Saotome-sama."

Kanade echoed the curtsy, her movements less graceful but infinitely kinder. "Saotome-hime."

I stared at them both, then purposefully looked away. I didn't know the correct protocol for reply. I didn't want to learn it either.

"Better but, in the future, please remember that Saotome-chan's station is above yours even while she remains in training," Kamiko lectured. She resumed walking. "My office, please."

It was only one more long hall until Kamiko's office. The room was exactly as I remembered it. Executive chair, heavy wooden desk, bronze nameplate, and stools along the wall. The stacks of paper, if anything, were higher and a bit disheveled. Even that slight touch of chaos looked rebellious in the otherwise neatly ordered room.

Sitting in one of the stools was yet another young woman. This girl had short, dark green hair, and a forest tinted skirt and vest. She rose from her seat the moment we stepped into the room and gave two smooth curtsies without prompt. "Ogura-sensei. Saotome-hime."

"Emiko." Kamiko closed her eyes and nursed a headache. "Nothing immediate, I hope?"

"It can wait, Ogura-sensei," Emiko answered.

"Good," Kamiko said with relief. "If you would take the time to escort Saotome-chan to Michiko's lab, I would be grateful."

"Of course, Ogura-sensei," Emiko said with a second, shallower curtsy. Emiko gave me a pretty but lifeless smile. "Saotome-hime. Follow me."

A quick walk down the hall and around a corner took us to Michiko's laboratory. The laboratory was at least thrice the size of Kamiko's office, but with all the angles and dangles it had only half the space. Here and there were cords, thick and thin. They hung from the ceiling and ran across the floor, forming an electronic jungle. The room held five tables, four of which were completely covered with stacked equipment boxes, and various devices. Little LED lights gleamed red and green, and bulky monitors displayed unfathomable data. Almost out of place within the high-tech labyrinth were the beakers and test tubes hidden betwixt rare empty gaps.

Of all the varied devices, the giant metal tube in far corner was the most prominent. The tube was huge and had a transparent plastic door big enough for a person. It was the eye of the wire storm with hundreds of cords pouring out of open panels. To the side of the tube was a rarity. A small, white, folding table, clean except for a small, black, rectangular container set atop it.

Along another wall was a steel bed with heavy medical equipment bolted to the roof above. Whatever the bed's intended use had been, it obviously hadn't seen it for some time. I knew this because the metal surface had become home to a dozen gizmos. Still, I didn't like the look of it. It was far too easy to envision a girl being dissected on its cold, steel surface.

The only thing missing was Michiko. I stood beside Emiko for a minute, tapping my foot, but after that my patience ran out and I claimed the room's only chair. It was a tall stool with a thick, black cushion. I swiveled back and forth atop the stool, raking my eyes across the four screens stacked on the table in front of me. Three showed nothing but gibberish, and the last showed only a command prompt.

I met Emiko's gaze, and raised a brow at the strange expression she wore.

"What?" I asked.

"Why did you come?" Emiko questioned softly. She sounded hesitant, as though afraid of being reprimanded.

I scowled at her. "Why did I follow you?" I let out a snort. "What else was I going to do? I'd make it maybe twenty paces before I started screaming my head off."

Emiko shook her head. "No. That isn't... I wanted to know... why. Why did you come here? To the Institute. I saw you fight. You wouldn't have lost if you had kept running. You... you could have been free."

I gave a Emiko a puzzled look. Why did she care? And where had we met anyway? I didn't recognize her. That could have been a product of magic, or, more likely, it was that I hadn't bothered to learn her features.

Eventually, I grunted and answered the question. "I wasn't going to leave Akane and Ukyou to Kamiko's tender mercies. Besides, I don't plan to stick around here long either."

Absently, I touched the metal surface of my tiara. Somehow, I was going to get the damn thing off. And, when I did, there would be hell to pay.

"I see," Emiko said, then she bowed deep, the gesture more genuine than the trained curtsies. "I'm sorry."

I folded my arms, and tried to lean back. The chair resisted. Probably a good thing, because the stool's center of balance didn't have much give. "And what, exactly, do you have to be sorry about?"

"I was there," Emiko explained. She swirled her hand a few times and made a stabbing motion, as though wielding a light object. "I... I fought your friends while you faced Rin and Naomi."

Emiko was Fencer. My eyes darkened, drinking in her features. Without the armor, she wasn't as recognizable. But, now that I knew who Emiko was, I could see it. Suddenly I found myself liking Emiko a whole lot less.

"If you want to apologize, do it to Yuka," I growled. "She's the one that got hurt. In fact, why don't you apologize to everyone in my class."

Emiko recoiled as though struck. "I'm sorry," Emiko said, bowing a second time. "You are correct, Saotome-hime. The action I took was reprehensible."

I scowled again and looked away. "Whatever," I dismissed. "Just stop calling me hime, okay?"

"As you wish, Saotome-sama," Emiko replied, making another reflexive curtsy.

"Drop the sama too," I added. "And forget the curtsies. I'm not royalty."

Emiko stopped in a half curtsy, a strange twisting expression crisscrossing her face. "I... I don't. I..."

"Rules defined by the Institute are primary," Michiko said, striding into the room.

Michiko was a giant in her silver heels, towering over my small frame. She swept into the room, her lab coat billowing behind. Cold, steel-blue eyes jumped to Emiko, dismissed her, then fixated on me.

Something like relief took Emiko, and she quickly curtsied to the new arrival. "Nishimura-sensei," she said before scurrying from the room.

Michiko continued to stare, her eyes burrowing into me, opening up my flesh and examining my insides. I watched her watch me, my arm propped on the table, my hand cupping my chin. Eventually, Michiko turned away, crossed the room, and began clearing the clutter from the metal bed.

"A personality construct was forcefully implanted into XT-09's spiritual matrix. Tenki was used as a vector to crystallize its presence. Repeated transformations have caused the construct to solidify and fuse with conditioned behavior.

"Result: a permanent reward and punishment mechanism that rapidly conditions any rule defined by an accepted authority. Effectively, XT-09, Emiko Watanabe, has been rendered intellectually incapable of disobedience," Michiko explained, answering a question I hadn't asked. She then stopped and looked at me. "Clothes off. On the bed."

I stood and started stripping. I'd save agony for something more important than clothes. "Let me guess, that's what you are going to do to me."

Even as I said the words, I grimaced. If that was what Michiko had planned, I'd need to do something right now. Problem was, my fight and flight prospects were worse than horrible. The tiara gave Michiko the power to put me down without touching me and utterly crushed any attempt to flee. Even without the tiara the fight would have been hard. Michiko had glasses that could see through walls, a barrier that was all but invincible, and weapons that didn't lack for range or penetrative capacity.

Basically, no matter what I did, Michiko would have me on the ground in seconds.

Then the cynical part of me spoke up and shot down even those tiny glimmers of hope. I had been unconscious for an unknown length of time. If Michiko was planning on shoving a 'personality construct' into my 'spiritual matrix', she would have done so already.

Which led to a question that had been bothering me. I had experienced how fast Chiyo's cotton candy cocoon could transform a girl, so why did I still have free will? What was the point of this? Of the tiara? Of the entire torturous process?

"Negative," Michiko said, answering my earlier statement. "Subject XT-09 is designated a failure. Perfect obedience requires complicated rule sets. It is not practical, nor desirable, to define the correct behavior under every possible circumstance. More successful personality constructs utilize the human propensity for loyalty and devotion. These allow greater mental flexibility, but, in turn, introduce new problems, namely fanatical or obsessive behavior."

Michiko finished reorganizing the bed's contents by cramming the various devices into every nook and cranny left on the other tables. "Personality alteration is a young science," she lamented. "Greater study and experimentation is required before reliable results can be realized."

"Thanks. That makes me feel a lot better. Let's see. Do I want to be a zombie, a slave, or a zealot? Hmm, choices, choices."

I punctuated my sarcasm by crunching my clothes into a ball and tossing them onto the bed. To my surprise, agony didn't come. Instead, Michiko quirked her head and observed the pile of clothes on the bed. Then she made a small nod, and turned her blue eyes back on me.

"You, on the bed. Clothes, elsewhere," Michiko said, correcting her previous command.

"What? So you can brainwash me?" I snorted. "You can forget that."

"Not brainwashing. Brainwashing is a hypothetical technique which empirical evidence suggests is impossible. Today's procedure will be: medical examination followed by spiritual modification. On the bed. Further noncompliance will be met with punishment," Michiko explained.

I didn't move. Michiko waited a few seconds then placed a hand in her lab coat pocket. That was all the warning I had before agony sliced its way into my head. My vision went black and, for a second, I could feel nothing but fire. I caught myself just as agony faded and prevented myself from tumbling onto the floor.

Shooting Michiko a glare, I stood and stomped my way across the room. I grabbed the bundle of clothes from the bed and threw them violently to the ground.

"Is there even a point to this?" I snapped. "Or do you guys get some sick kick out of torturing people?"

Michiko blinked. "False. I derive no pleasure from punishing you."

"Then why do it?" I asked angrily. "And don't give me that 'conditioning' bullshit. I've dealt with mind changing magics before. I was hit by Chiyo's cotton candy cocoon. Hell, you just told me what you did to Emiko. So why? Why this!"

I grabbed the tiara, fingers curling through the frame in a fist, muscles tensing to yank. Terror. It hit suddenly and froze me in that position. Eyes wide, I suddenly wondered what it was I was doing. Pull on the tiara as an example? How stupid could I get?

Trembling, I released my grip.

Breath in. Breath out.

Now calmer I reviewed my words and regretted them. Not for their accusations, but the because of the ideas they conveyed. In my mind an imaginary film played on loop. In it, a light bulb lit up over chibi-Michiko's head. 'Good point!' mini-Michiko said. 'We'll start using magic right away!' Yeah. Real smart, Ranma. Next time I'm fighting Ryouga, I'll give him pointers too.

"You have a misunderstanding. I will clarify," Michiko said, not looking perturbed by my rant. "Chiyo Mori's ability is unique and contains aspects deemed problematic. Subjects exposed to the 'cotton candy cocoon' exhibit dangerous mental changes – specifically, a loyalty directed solely at Chiyo.

"Experiments XT-02, Kamiko Ogura, and XT-07, Shizue Handa, were proposed to correct this deficiency. Goal: replicate the desirable mental components of Chiyo's coerced tenki, but with greater control and variance.

"Experiment XT-02: failure, later revised. XT-02's 'neural remap' ability failed to produce the desired high-speed personality rewrite. It has since proven useful when moderated through technological devices such as the tiara, but remains short of the intended goal. Regardless, XT-02 was rewarded the rank senshi for her services.

"Experiment XT-07: limited success. XT-07's ability 'dollification' does produce the intended effects of rapid, deep, and permanent personality transformation, though conversion speed remains 15% of target. Unfortunately, the resultant personality template was flawed. Subjects converted through dollification show undesirable behavioral tendencies. As such, XT-07's use is limited to hybrid approaches and extreme punishment.

"As the XT-02 and XT-07 experiments have failed, the XT-11 experiment was proposed."

"Me," I filled in.

"Affirmative," Michiko confirmed. "Experiment XT-11, goal: replicate the successful aspects of the XT-07 experiment with a more desirable personality template. Subject Ranma Saotome was selected from a list of girls exhibiting potential. Reasons: stabilized Jusenkyou curse, strong personality, and high spiritual power. All traits, once modified, are projected to produce higher speed and more thorough conversion. Secondary consideration: the subject's personality subtype makes it unlikely that the undesirable aspects of the XT-07 experiment will recur."

I snorted out a half-laugh. "So I'm supposed to be the Pretty Princess Institute's brand new magical girl factory," I said bitterly.

If someone else had said it, I might have laughed for real. But Michiko made it sound all too plausible. The clinical way she stated my fate sent chills down my spine, and the cold, crisp logic behind it was a thing of nightmares. I was no mathematician, but I didn't need to be one to see how things could add up. Chiyo's cocoon worked fast, in hours. If I could convert a girl a day, that was thirty a month and three-hundred-sixty-five a year. Hikaru had said the Institute was, what, two-hundred something? If the Institute achieved its goal, it could double its size in a year. Triple it in two...

... and that was assuming that, once the first 'magical girl factory' had been built, they couldn't build more.

The Institute was setting itself up to start growing very, very fast.

Which led to a disturbing question. What, exactly, did the Institute need thousands of magical girls for? But that question answered itself. In the end, there was only one reason to build an army of that size. Conquest.

Thankfully, that was still in the distant future. For me, what mattered was the Institute lacked its factory. I had time. Michiko couldn't rewrite my personality in a single day. I could escape. No, better than that, Akane could escape. I hadn't lost yet, and I wasn't seconds from losing.

That was where the 'good news' ended.

I was XT-11, a human experiment. If that wasn't enough to give me the jitters, Michiko had all but said that she was planning to modify my curse. It didn't take a genius to figure out how that would end. The Institute was a school for magical girls, run by magical girls, and dedicated to the creation of magical girls. The ability to turn male would be an unnecessary inconvenience in the eyes of the Institute. If the Institute had the power to lock my curse, it would certain do so.

And there was nothing I could do to stop them.

"Lay down," Michiko ordered.

She didn't wait for me to take action but instead pushed me down onto the icy metal bed. Warm hands poked and prodded while Michiko examined my skin through her glasses. Occasionally her fingers would play on the rims, selecting different visual settings.

The process was clinical and detached. Content to let Michiko do her work, I scanned the laboratory once more. My eyes fell on the tall tube in the corner. The tube was clearly intended for humans. I wondered what it was for.

I had a nasty feeling that I was going to find out.

"Your recovery is faster than expected even when magical assistance is accounted for," Michiko commented. "Is my speculation correct? were you trained to augment your healing with life energy?"

Michiko peered at the cut in my right breast. The only sign of the old wound was two dozen stitches and a smooth line of white that sliced through the organ. Michiko must have been satisfied because she pulled out a pair of clippers and tweezers and started removing them.

"Yeah," I answered. "Pop likes to put me through all sorts of dangerous training. If he hadn't spent so much time teaching me to heal fast when I was young, I would have spent half my life laid up in a hospital bed."

Michiko moved fast and had the last stitch out by the time I'd finished my reply. Then she went through the discomforting process of re-examining the wound a second time.

"There will be scarring, but refrain from concern. The spiritual modification process utilizes a tenki-like techno-arcane mechanism. Repeated tenki quickly eliminates superficial defects. Also, do not be alarmed by minor physical alterations. These are normal. Spiritual modification accelerates the standard tenki carry-over process. There are no known medical risks, but, for scientific reasons, inform me of any change you notice."

"Scarring was the furthest thing from my mind, but thanks for curing my worries," I retorted, not bothering to hide my sarcasm. "Is there anything else I need to know? I wouldn't want to leave here with less than a week's worth of nightmares."

Michiko stepped away from the steel bed and walked to the computer bank I had been sitting at before.

"No. Proceed to the chamber. Place any item of personal value on the table, as spiritual modification can cause the destruction of existing physical objects. The small container already occupying the desk is yours."

Hopping off the steel bed, I glanced at Michiko and noted her back was turned. With swift steps, I scurried across the lab. I stopped at the tall tube I assumed was the chamber. I ignored the table for now and instead scrutinized the open panels. There! I reached in and ripped out a small computer card. A series of glowing green lights went dark the moment I removed the component. I hoped that meant the card was important.

Since I currently had no pockets, I palmed the card, holding it so Michiko wouldn't see. With my sabotage complete, I turned my eyes to the small table at the side. The only personal item I had was a dragon's whisker, which I used to tie my hair into its pigtail. It didn't have any real value, but I had used it for years. To preserve the memento, I set it on the table. Then, curious, I picked up the rectangular container Michiko said belonged to me. It was black, plastic, and had a simple latch. I thumbed it open.

"Glasses?" I said in surprise.

Thin frames of metallic silver, and square lenses. They weren't the same, but the glasses had a style reminiscent of the ones Michiko wore.

"You showed prior interest in my ocular device. I understood that to mean a similar pair would constitute an acceptable gift. Am I in error?" Michiko quirked her head to the side, as though examining a particularly difficult question.

I pulled the out the glasses, and tossed the case back onto the table. A tap of the rims lit up a series of selection boxes. I couldn't stop a grin from spreading. Cool. Confusion followed afterwards, and I made my question verbal. "Why?"

"You prevented my death." There was a touch of affection in Michiko's answer. That emotion was replaced by clinical speech when Michiko continued. "Step into the tube and wear the glasses when doing so. They will be integrated with your tenki."

My hand settled around the aluminum handle bolted into the plastic door. I paused there, pinning the hidden component against the inside of my wrist. Looking over my shoulder, I caught Michiko's eye.

"Doesn't playing with peoples' minds bother you?" I asked suddenly. "I mean, this stuff could happen to you."

Michiko glanced up from her computer, her fingers not stopping their machine gun bursts. Her voice carried over the soft clacking of her typing. "Two years, three months, twenty-three days – for a period of that length, I lack any memory," Michiko answered with vague words. "Logic and subsequent investigation indicate that I was subject to crude personality altering techniques at the hands of the Director. The lack of memory is, most likely, a result of Gondul's drinking horn – a technique used in early modification attempts in order to reduce trauma or to remove specific objections to the Institute's methods.

"My service record thereafter contains forty-three demerits, and two severe reprimands. As such, I underwent a second re-education at the hands of Kamiko Ogura three years after the completion of the XT-02 experiment. My service record contains only a single demerit since. Conclusion: the probability of future alterations to my personality is low."

Michiko's clear, crisp statements were a hammer blow to my conceptions. I stared at her, my jaw hanging open from the shock. My eyes searched desperately for the hint of a lie. Nothing. At first I refused to accept it. Kamiko, XT-02, a victim. Michiko, another victim. Emiko, a victim. Where any of the girls here of their own free will? Was Akina likewise enslaved? How about Gondul? or, hell, Chiyo?

It was mind boggling. How was I supposed to hate people who, for all intents and purposes, were innocent? And, if I did hate them, then what did that make me? A monster. Yet, how could I not feel curdling anger when they inflicted this horror upon me?

It made me sick. The Institute was a demon. A demon that ate girls. And it was growing bigger with each girl it ate, which only made it eat them faster.

For the first time I found myself wanting to do more than save Akane. The Institute... it had to be destroyed. The cycle had to end. To let this run on, to let girls be devoured one after another, that was an evil without peer. But what could I do? I was a martial artist. A nobody. Sure, I was strong... but stronger than an army? This was a fight that wouldn't end easily. I was no hero. I had never wanted to be one.

Save Ukyou. Save Akane. Ignore the rest. That was my way.

But, when I escaped this place, would I still be satisfied with that? Could I just walk away? It was a haunting thought. Hikaru had been fighting for five years. In that time, he had accomplished very little. I could spend just as long, or longer, standing against the Institute. Even if I won, what would I do then? What the Institute was doing was ugly and nasty. The trauma it had inflicted would not heal quickly.

...

It didn't matter. Those were thoughts for another day and another time. There was no point in worrying about saving others when I was still unable to save myself.

But the question continued to weigh on me when I stepped into the tube. What should I do? What was right? I tried to distract myself from that emotional baggage. I fiddled with my glasses, tapping the rims and moving through the various modes they offered.

The basics were the same, a menu up top with quick access to features like zoom. An extended list offered more esoteric selections, like aura mode. The total number of choices were less than half. The color scheme had changed as well. Michiko's glasses had shrouded everything in orange and painted the menus in the same color. These new glasses used violet as the primary tint.

Thud. A bolt slid into place. My eyes jerked from the icons floating across my vision. There was a low hum. The tube came to life and metal plates began to glow. Pop! A brilliant blue spark crossed the breadth of the tube's interior. P-Pop! Two more electric pulses discharged. P-p-p-pop! Lighting fired off in bursts. I ducked. The jagged streams scattered above me. It was only luck that I hadn't been hit, but the animal part of my brain insisted that I keep cowering.

Bang!

Energy filled the entire tube. Blue lightning skewered me. My muscles contracted. I jumped. Thunk! My head hit the side of the tube with a heavy crack. Skull throbbing, I flopped to the ground.

Smoke, ozone, and the scent of cooked flesh choked me. I coughed, and coughed some more. In the haze that filled the tube, a blue illumination grew. Yeah. Real smart, Ranma. Steal an important component. What could possible go wrong? Oh. Except the whole cooked to death by lightning thing. But better fried than girlified, right?

The looming threat of electrocution ended when the life drained from the tube. The pale glow of the metal plates faded slowly, and sparks continued to jet between the gaps of seconds. Grunting, I pulled myself to my feet and leaned against the tube's interior.

I put on an arrogant smirk. Show time.

Thud. The door unlocked. Air hissed, and smoke spilled out into the laboratory. It dissipated quickly, revealing Michiko. She jerked open the transparent door and fixed me with her steel blue eyes.

If I had been a lesser man, or perhaps a smarter one, I would have surrendered the card right then. Instead, I gave a Michiko a wry grin, and wobbled the component between my fingers. When I had her attention, I gripped the card in both hands and snapped it in half.

Agony followed.

Cats. Cats everywhere. Chewing, biting, mistaking flesh for the meat strung around my limbs. I tried to beat them back, but Pop had tied me too tight. I thrashed and rolled. Cats were knocked aside, but they kept coming. Hunger drove them. They darted in, screeching and scratching as they sought to find their fill.

I begged. I begged Pop, who I knew sat on the other side of the basement hatch. "Please," I cried. "Please, Pop, please. Let me out. I'll do anything. Just let me out."

He never answered.

Agony persisted, and as the cats devoured me, I found no release. The neko-ken did not come. The nightmare was unending.

I trembled on the ground, my body curled up in a ball. I don't know how long I held that position. The line between agony and reality had become blurred. Even as the white light of the laboratory burnt its way into my eyes, I felt as though I were still stuck in a dark pit, my skin slowly being stripped to the bone.

Michiko bent down next to me and pried the broken fragments of the card from my feeble fingers.

"I am required to punish direct defiance," Michiko reminded. She placed the broken card in her pocket, and removed a silver hex-angular device with the same hand. She held it cupped in her palm, tiny needles facing out. "Hold still."

Even while caught by the echoes of agony,I did not back down. With a numb, spasming arm I knocked Michiko's hand aside. The device skittered across the laboratory floor, bouncing and rolling over dozens cords before finally getting stuck facing up at the forty-five degree angle. I coiled my body and jumped.

It was an inelegant attack. I hit Michiko in the stomach with my left shoulder. The two of us tumbled to the ground in a heap. I stumbled and struggled to rise to my feet.

Vomit poured from my mouth, the acrid liquid burning my throat and leaving behind a sour flavor. An icy chill swept through me even as sweat soaked into my clothes. My limbs shook. So wild were their movements that it was all I could do to stand. My balance was distorted. The Earth itself seemed rise and fall in continuous, erratic waves. Poisoned meat. I was burning with it. It was hard to breath, and every part of me hurt. Still I walked. I couldn't stop, not with the burden I was dragging behind me. A doctor. I had to find a doctor. Because if I didn't, Pop, invincible Pop, would die.

I was on my back, staring at the ceiling. Rectangular tiles divided it into blocks. Detached, I started counting them. One... Five... Eight... Get up Ranma. You've got a fight to win. I tried to focus, but my mind skittered after every thought. I rolled over and rose to my knees. Even getting that high was hard with the room whirling around me so fast that I couldn't tell up from down.

Hands seized my legs. They pulled. I fell. Belatedly I added strength to my limbs, but by then Michiko's knees were digging into my shoulders. She was light. I should have thrown her off, but my consciousness faded into the ancient past. Pop. He had gotten better all on his own. For all the fear I'd felt then, I had cursed him a month later when he started my poison resistance training.

Cold metal pressed against the back of my neck. Sudden numbness restored a fraction of my lucidity. I tried to stand, but my limbs refused to obey my orders. My arms wouldn't move. My hands wouldn't move. Not even my fingers would move.

I turned my neck, my head the only limb that still functioned, and caught sight of Michiko. She straightened her lab coat then grabbed a flaccid leg. With heavy tugs, she dragged me back into the tube. Once, I was inside, she rolled my body over and propped me upright. Still dazed and utterly helpless, I watched as Michiko removed the broken computer card from her pocket. In an effortless display, she joined the two pieces, silver sparks repairing the damage I dealt.

Michiko gazed down, eyes as cold as ever. "It is natural to resist. Doing so does not make me angry. I do not hold your actions against you. I request the same, kohai."

Michiko reached near my feet, lifted a pair of glasses that I hadn't noticed had fallen, and affixed them to my face. Then she shut the tube's door.

Minutes crawled by, but, even with growing awareness, there was nothing I could do. Eventually the metal plates glowed again. This time they shed no sparks. Pain followed – haigeki, mixed with the oozing presence of shuken.

-oOo-

What is 'N'? N^2 + 4N - 12 = 0. The question was printed in white block font on a dark screen. In the upper right-hand corner the remaining time counted down. Five minutes and thirty-two... thirty-one... thirty seconds.

I frowned and sketched an answer with a mechanical pencil. Then, key by key, I pecked out the answer: '-6,2'. I stopped to double check. Yep. The numbers were right. The smaller one was first and there were no spaces. The stupid machine didn't like deviations.

With a touch of trepidation, I hit the enter key. The screen flashed and displayed the word 'correct'. I relaxed. Sometimes I wondered if bliss rewarded me for being right. I wasn't sure. If it did, it was so subtle that it was unrecognizable. The agony of an incorrect answer, on the other hand, was much more apparent.

Agony, I had come to truly hate that feeling. So much so that I had learned to avoid it. If that meant putting in a bit of effort to answer the computer's questions, then so be it.

Besides, it wasn't like a bit of studying was a bad thing.

I leaned back in my chair and stretched. Menial study activities had filled the last few days, the only real nastiness being Kamiko's lines. I hated those lines. The shameful experience had been burned into my memory. I had tried to hold out, to not say the words, but agony had proved the victor. With secret shame I had read all five sheets, my voice a bare whisper.

Then, in the morning I had done it again.

And again.

And again.

It never became easier.

Beyond that, there had been the decided lack of brainwashing. A week spent in the Institute had done little to turn me into an obedient robot. I knew the cause. Kamiko-'sensei' was too busy to be playing nurse-maid to take care of poor little me. On top of that, the Institute refused to place me in a normal class due to unnamed 'concerns'. Heh. How untrusting. Surely they didn't think I was a flight risk?

So, what did a powerful, wealthy, magical girl school do with bad girls like me? They made them study. The Pretty Princess Institute, I had concluded, was a villainous scheme concocted by the Ministry of Culture. Read this chapter by one o'clock. Complete the computer generated test, and finish the review by three o'clock. Nag. Nag. Nag. I had done more schoolwork yesterday than in a typical week at Furinkan. The Institute even had a magical girl ronin tutoring me, four-to-five every day. If it wasn't for the occasional bouts of torture, Michiko's science experiments, and the constant samas and himes,I would have suspected the whole Institute was being orchestrated by Hinako-sensei.

Beep! With a synthesized squeal, the computer warned me I was on my last three minutes. If I didn't want to face the agony of being too slow, I'd have to answer the last question.

You are attending a formal ball while representing the Pretty Princess Institute. What are the proper armaments? A) Weapons are inappropriate. B) Weapons should be clearly displayed to show the Institute's military strength. C) Any weapon is acceptable, as long as it compliments the selected dress. D) Weapons should be present, but hidden.

"Who comes up with these?" I muttered to myself with a low chuckle.

It wasn't the first odd question I had encountered, but it was definitely the strangest.

I hit 'b' for the sheer thrill of it. A flicker of agony punished my choice. To my shock, when the computer fed me the correct answer, it wasn't 'a' but 'd'. Girls at the Pretty Princess Institute were supposed to be packing heat while at formal balls.

... that was... kind of cool ...

Ha! Drop the gender requirements, the pesky brainwashed slave issue, and the whole diabolic organization of evil thing, and I would have been tempted to send the Institute my transfer papers for that question alone.

Beep! Beep! The computer squealed twice then flipped into review mode. I had an hour and two minutes to get all the question I got wrong, right. After that, the computer would direct me to read a chapter related to the subject I fared worst at.

But I didn't start my review. Instead, I stood and walked across the room to my bed.

The bed was destroyed. The wooden frame had been shattered into short sticks and piled in the center of the of the room. Hardback books joined the mass, their crumbled pages torn out and gathered at the bottom of the heap to serve as tinder. My fire pit was complete.

I had started working on it this morning. It had not been easy. My schedule was jammed full of studying tasks, all of which were enforced by persistent agony should they be avoided. I had scrounged for minutes in order to pull it off, all the while knowing that there was a time limit. My tutor showed up at four and she would put a sudden stop to my plan.

I had seventeen minutes. If I took any longer the damn machine would start punishing me for being behind. It was more than I needed. I had been seconds from setting my plan into motion thirty minutes ago, but the computer's squeals and agony had proved too much.

I sat and gathered my tools. First, a rod hacked from the bed's frame. The rod was split down the center so that it had a rounded side and a flat one. Next to the rod was a board. It lacked a groove, a fact I would have to overcome with superior technique.

Gripping the rod in my right hand, I settled in position. I pinned the board with both legs so that it's length stretched away from me. I set the tip of the rod against the wood and pushed. The first stroke was long and heavy. It crossed the length of board then drew back. Back and forth. Back and forth. My motions quickened and the distance shortened. Speed, force, and friction all three conspired to create heat. Glowing carbon dust gathered at the rod's tip.

I stopped and inspected the ember. The light did not die. Certain that it would last, I lifted my fire board and, with a delicate motion, moved the ember into a paper cup. I breathed. Oxygen flowed over the tiny speckle of carbon, teasing from it white smoke. I breathed again, harder. The paper burst into flame.

With graceful swiftness, I touched my torch to the tender of my fire pit then tossed the burning remains into the fire.

Orange tendrils lunged upward from their paper bedding. The flames bit deep into the treated wood, growing taller and stronger as they fed. I watched with glee, and, when the fire was strong enough, I tossed a pile of frilly dresses on top.

Whomp!

"Dresses burn so pretty," I joked in a cutesy voice.

I enjoyed the sight for a moment longer then slapped my game face on. I glanced across the room and at the bathroom mirror. A terrified girl looked back.

Perfect.

I strode over to the call button and mashed it half a dozen times. I threw open the door a second later, took a moment to school my voice, then cried out, "Help! Fire!"

An instant later Carrotcake zoomed around the corner, already transformed into her orange and brown seifuku costume. She skidded to a stop a few paces away, her eyes growing wide.

"Eh?" she questioned. Her gaze shifted to the smoke billowing out from the door behind me. Panic settled in. "Eh? Eh-eh-eh-eeeaaa!" she shrieked.

Arms flailing, Carrotcake started a crazed dance. She dashed to and fro as though it were her that was on fire. While Carrotcake descended into hysteria, I shifted my profile and narrowed the door. I wouldn't want her to get ideas.

I snorted. Yeah. Like Carrotcake was going to notice anything.

"What do we do? What do we do?" Carrotcake asked, begging from me an answer. She screamed again, "Eeaaa! Fire! Help! Fire!"

Keh. Keh. I didn't have to fake the coughs. Burning the dresses had been a lot of fun. Breathing the fumes... not so much. "Please!" I cried. I tried my best, and failed, to match the sheer terror in the other girl's voice. "Please, you have to give me permission to step out."

Carrotcake gave me a wild eyed stare. "Of course you can leave! Quick. Quick. Get out before you burn! Eeaaa!"

I smirked and flung myself from the room, slamming the door behind me. I fell back into the role of a frightened girl a second later and rushed into Carrotcake's arms. I pulled her into a tight hug and worked some tears from my eyes. I was about to start bawling but Carrotcake beat me to the punch.

"So scary," Carrotcake sobbed. "What are we going to do?"

I patted her on the back, my hand slowly climbing higher. I paused when I reached her neck. Fear. My body trembled. My teeth clenched. I tried to calm myself by dragging a long breath.

It helped. A little.

With my fingers poised above Carrotcake's fourth and fifth vertebrae, I channeled ki. Agony. My concentration splintered. Ki wavered from the loss of focus and shattered altogether when massive, disruptive resonance rippled through my aura. But, for the barest moment, I formed a needle of raw spiritual force and stabbed.

My vision went blank. My knees hit the ground and a heavy weight slammed into me. I staggered, but remained upright. Burning pain dragged me back to awareness. A painful oval was pressed against my neck, the gem of the choker jettisoned its heat into my skin.

Blinking, I realized that my arms were holding a soft feminine package – Carrotcake, struck unconscious from the pressure point I had triggered.

Relief filtered through me. It worked.

I adjusted my grip and threw Carrotcake over a shoulder. My smirk returned. Permission to step outside? Granted. Escort? Secured. I was good to go.

Starting a quick jog down the hall, I took a moment to gloat. Faking Carrotcake's voice badly, I said, "Where do you want to go, Saotome-sama?" I switched to my cutesy voice. "Why, I'd love to take a long walk outside." "Of course, Saotome-sama, your wish is my command."

Maniacal laughter was impressively hard to resist, but I did my best.

Brrring!

The thunderous roar the fire alarms suffocated all other sound. My escape was no longer hidden. But chaos and confusion would reign for some time yet and would serve as my shield while they lasted. With no more time to waste, I turned my jog in a headlong dash.

I swerved at the intersection of halls, sparing the observation desk a glance. Empty. As I thought. Only one girl manned the fort, and it was the same girl that was on call. Elation died two steps later. A girl in green entered the corridor to my left. I cringed, prayed, and jumped. My body flew in a low arc, passing over the lip of the observation desk before crashing to the ground behind it.

My eyes shot back. Emiko flashed by, her clothes transforming into steel plated armor.

She didn't see me? No way. The thought was absurd. I had jumped straight across Emiko's vision, and the speed I had been moving would have attracted attention. Yet, impossibly, she had kept running.

Which meant that Emiko had ignored me.

Why?

A question with too many answers. Emiko's orders could have left no room for my presence. She might not have recognized who I was... or maybe, just maybe, Emiko was letting me escape.

There was no way to know. But I squirreled away the incident for future reference.

I rolled to the side and tucked my body under the desk's lip. I dragged Carrotcake closer as I did so, effectively hiding the two of us from view. Once neither of us could be seen, I pulled out my glasses. I should have been wearing them from the start, but their existence had slipped my mind.

I cycled through the selection list and flicked on aura mode. The lenses lit up and painted my presence in violet and green. Violet stood for 'magical girl'. I had tried to change that, but after half an hour I had given up.

Looking at myself I scowled. My body was covered with the oily stains of tenki's corruption. The contamination had been creeping forward all week, aided and abetted by Michiko's modifications. How long now before it swallowed me whole? The progress of purple might have been a meaningless metric, but to me it held a fearsome image. I was becoming a magical girl. Soon I would be one forever.

I didn't like the idea, especially since I would have to use tenki one more time when I came back for Akane.

I tore my gaze away from myself and I swept it across the hall. My caution was rewarded. A violet specter was approaching at a brisk pace. Spurred on by paranoia I checked Carrotcake vitals. She was out and that wasn't going to change anytime soon.

Brrr- "Rin!" - ring! Kamiko's shout could barely be heard over the fire alarm.

The violet shape approached the desk. The wood above me bent slightly when Kamiko placed her weight on top. There was a vague murmur, the sound drowned out by the ringing of the alarm, then the violet specter stepped away.

"Rin!" Kamiko shouted again, striding down the smoky hall.

I waited until Kamiko was ten meters away before vaulting over the desk, Carrotcake in tow. Swiftly and stealthily, I slipped by while Kamiko's back was turned. Once I was around the corner I resumed my dash to the cathedral.

As I ran I glanced from side to side. Most of the rooms stood empty. But, in a few, the ghosts of captured girls haunted me. Their silhouettes showed a spattering of color, greens and blues all drenched in violet. I forced myself to ignore them, each time wondering: is that Akane? Don't stop, Ranma. You don't have time to look. Escape first. When I was free, when the tiara was torn from my head, then and only then would I be able to save her.

I burst into the cathedral without further trouble. Once inside, I took a sharp turn toward the heavy oak doors and skidded to a stop.

Th-thud. All sound was drowned out, the ringing of the fire alarm reduced to a distant buzz. For two seconds I could only hear the beating of my heart.

My path was blocked.

Deep below the seal emblazoned on the granite floor lay a giant wolf. Though buried in the earth, its glowing specter shined through, cast in deep red by my glasses.

Gondul's steed.

Th-thud.

It was asleep.

My heart slowed and my breathing resumed. Whew. Got scared over nothing there. How stupid of me. Relaxed, I stepped forward.

"I can see you, human, and I know that you see me," a deep voice said. The words rumbled through the hall, echoing off the walls until they gained an omnipresence.

The wolf stood. It set its padded paws upon the earth and pushed. Step by step it rose. The beast ascending through stone, dirt, and clay as though they were naught but air. The wolf's phantom head breached the granite floor. Then, with one last lunge, it jumped free.

I flicked aura mode off just in time to witness the wolf solidify. Misty flesh made of silver light gained definition. Transparent skin thickened into a coat of gray fur. Legs and limbs gained mass and muscle. Vapor turned to matter as the beast stepped from the realm of death into life.

It was huge. The wolf towered over me, its body rising halfway to the cathedral's ceiling. It straddled both sides of the aisle, leaving no room for escape. More fearsome than that was the wolf's spiritual presence. Sakki. It coated everything – a deadly, choking air that threatened to press me to the ground.

But I did not waver.

"Uh, Carrotcake and I were just... uh... going for a walk. So maybe we could grab a doggy treat while we are out?" I offered.

A low rumble, like distant thunder, sounded from the wolf. It prowled forward, snout dipping so that the beast's nose was only slightly higher than my head. It breathed in, the currents of air dragging at my clothing.

"I smell the smoke on your clothes. I hear the alarm. I know who you are, Ranma Saotome. You fought the Chooser and lost. Now the moon queen claims you as hers."

My eyes darkened. "She can claim all she wants, but I don't kneel. So what's it going to be? You wanna fight? Or are you going to get out of my way, mutt?"

"Mutt," the wolf growled. "Do not mistake me for a dog, mortal. I am Garmr, son of Fenrir, litter-mate to Skoll and Hati. My brothers swallowed the sun and the moon, and my howl heralds Ragnarok. I serve the Chooser only so that my fur may be painted crimson and that my jaws never lack for mortal flesh. I. Am. No. Dog."

The great wolf, Garmr, tilted its head to me. "You claim no master, girl, but all I see is a defiant slave. Fight me if you dare." Garmr's lips pealed back revealing rows of yellowed teeth as long as daggers. "Yes. Fight me. Show to me the strength that stopped to the Chooser. Drench me in your thirst for blood. Crush my bones and tear my flesh. If your strength is true and your hatred boundless, I will gladly abandon that fool, Gondul, who chains herself with honor."

"Down! and stay there," a woman barked.

Before I could process the words, agony slammed me to the floor. Blackness crawled through my vision and my senses reeled.

"You will strike no deals, Garmr!" Kamiko shouted. The woman stormed into the room. "Saotome-chan belongs to the Institute. Is that clear? Or do I need to call the Director?"

"You threaten me with the moon queen?" A deep chuckle echoed off the walls. "I tremble in terror. That false goddess is nothing to me," Garmr gloated. He swooped his snout in close, his jaws hanging wide so that they could devour a tiny human in a single bite.

"You speak those words, demon. Yet you do nothing," Kamiko challenged.

Hmph! A gush of air escaped Garmr's nostrils. The great beast turned and trotted back to the emblazoned seal. The wolf's form dispersed into silver mist before sinking into the ground. Before the beast vanished into the earth, Garmr turned his head and delivered parting words. "Take her if you wish. What I seek is a warrior cloaked in death, not a pretty bauble to be paraded before men of account."

With that, Garmr became one with the stone.

Kamiko crossed the hall at an angry pace. I glared up at her from my place on the ground, not daring to defy a second dose of agony.

"Gondul I understand, but why the Director puts up with that beast is beyond me," Kamiko grumbled. Kamiko stopped next to my prone body and met my gaze. Her annoyed expression quickly turned to one of exasperation. "Spare me that look, Saotome-chan. I'm not in the mood. Up, and follow me. The Director will have to sort out today's punishment."

Kamiko turned away and marched toward the back of the cathedral.

I stood and shot Kamiko another glare. Damn. So close. If not for that stupid dog, I would have been long gone. Feeling petty, I dumped Carrotcake's unconscious body between the pews. Mild agony told me I had let Kamiko stray too far, so I scrambled to catch up.

From the cathedral we entered a part of the building I had not been in before. I gazed at the rich halls with curiosity. Antique chairs and desks were placed in tiny alcoves. Paintings were set on the walls, each depicting grand estates and alien landscapes. Crystal chandeliers provided light, glowing with little candle-like flames.

In less than a minute Kamiko was pushing through a pair of broad double doors and into a small antechamber. A pretty young woman stood as we entered and curtsied us both.

"Ogura-sensei. Saotome-hime."

Kamiko strode up the secretary's desk and leaned against the dark wood. "Jun, please inform the Director that Saotome-chan burned her room to the ground in an attempt to escape."

The young woman, Jun, gave me a shocked look, which I answered with a smirk.

"Now would be a good time."

Jun's attention jerked back. "Of course, Ogura-sensei. Right away," She said quickly. The secretary made two more curtsies before slipping into the room beyond.

Kamiko ignored me and pattered of her fingers on the wood. With nothing better to do, I took a seat. The chair was stiff and uncomfortable. I glanced through the magazines laid out on the low table. Boring, boring, and even more boring. I peered at the inattentive Kamiko. A perfect chance to test a theory. Casually, I plucked a small pen out of its cup. I held it between two fingers and...

...put it back.

I frowned and tried again. Reach. Grab. Contemplate nailing the back of Kamiko's head. Return the pen to its cup.

Momentary confusion twisted into a cocky smile. So that was it. Kamiko's defense was an aura of non-violence. But, how could I use that to my advantage?

Whatever plans I may have conjured up were put aside when the secretary slipped back into the room.

"Ogura-sensei. Saotome-hime," she greeted again. "The Director says that Saotome-hime is to wait inside."

I stood and strolled to the door to let myself in.

"Not so fast, young lady," Kamiko snapped. "Some ground rules first. You are to speak only when spoken to, and are to stand to the side in a dignified manner. Is that clear, Saotome-chan?"

"Yeah, yeah," I replied. I winced when a knife of agony skewered me.

"Ahem." Kamiko's stern gaze made it clear that this time she would not waver.

I grit my teeth. "I understand, Kamiko-sensei," I repeated with faux politeness

"Better, Saotome-chan. We'll cure you yet. Now go. The Director is waiting."

-oOo-

The Director's office was huge. An enormous mahogany desk dominated the center of the room like a physical manifestation of authority. Behind it was a single towering stained glass window depicting the now familiar crescent moon entwined by silver vines. Light poured through it, shrouding Artemis with a halo of power. Flanking the window were a pair of tall shelves stuffed with hundreds of musty old books and ancient knick knacks. The rest of the room was complemented by a museum of antique arms, armor, and art.

The Director's eyes flickered to me and dismissed my presence. Keeping Kamiko's demands in mind, I stepped to the side and stood quietly. While doing so I fixed my gaze on the elderly gentleman sitting across from Artemis. He was old, his face wrinkled by folds of fat. He dressed in a dark suit and had shadowy eyes that flickered with a strength unrelated to the battlefields I walked.

"Unacceptable," the older man spoke. "Not the kidnappings or the assault on Furinkan. Those won't make the evening news. Open warfare in the commercial district is unacceptable. This goes beyond what the Prime Minister can tolerate."

"Representative Yoshida," Artemis said. "We have been over this many times. By law, the Institute is responsible for the care and management of magical girls. It is our sworn duty to arrest such disruptive elements wherever they may be found. The battle in the commercial district, while regrettable, did not exceed our mandate."

"I am well aware of the Institute's authority, Director Silvervine, but this is political matter. The pressure this incident has caused is enormous. The media is playing blurred pictures of the rooftop battle and that is to say nothing of the rumors that existed before. The Japanese people are starting to ask hard questions."

"Then answer them," Artemis replied scornfully. "A woman out of control and the brave young girls that risked their lives to stop her. Such a story will suffice. The masses are easily swayed."

"The Minister demands something more substantial than a tale about black hearted terrorist," Yoshida retorted.

They were talking about the fight between Gondul and Chiyo, I realized. I contemplated interjecting that the 'woman out of control' had been me, and that it was the Pretty Princess Institute that had flattened an entire building. But, because of Kamiko's orders, that wasn't going to happen. All I'd get out would be 'Aaagh!' before the tiara constricted my throat and rendered my screams silent.

Oh well. They probably wouldn't have appreciated my wit anyway.

"You want a parade," Artemis said with disgust. "Your Minister is a fool. Acknowledging a mistake will only grant it more power. Better to deny everything."

"Director Silvervine, be that as it may, the Minister has made his decision," Yoshida replied.

"My head will not be on the chopping block for this, Yoshida. Be sure to inform him of that."

"Your concern is misplaced, Director," Yoshida replied. "A simple show will suffice. Something to let the people know that we understand their concerns and are acting on them."

"A slap on the wrist then," Artemis clarified. She paused in thought. "I will play your Minister's game for now. But, in turn, I demand that my budget be untouched and my authority left intact."

"Officially the Institute's rights will be curtailed and its funding reduced. Unofficially, the controls on the Institute will remain blind and toothless. As for your budget, I have slipped in a rider that increases reimbursements for your distributed personnel. It will more than make up for any shortfall," Yoshida said.

"A gambit that will ensure that more of my girls are working for other branches of the government."

"Of course," Yoshida admitted. "A useful selling point. But it also sets in stone future funding increases."

"My core staff has already been stripped bare, Yoshida. Allocating more girls will only make things more difficult. But it seems I have no choice in the matter," Artemis said. "I assume that none of this is free. What do you want in exchange?"

"Make the Suihen corporation your main supplier," Yoshida answered.

"Their prices are exorbitant," Artemis shot back. "However, I am willing to pay them if my increased funding more than covers the difference. Is that all, Representative?"

"For now." Yoshida stood. "Try to be more discrete in the future, Director Silvervine. The Minister and I can work around the occasional hiccup, but your enemies are numerous and eager to see you fail. Don't give them excuses."

"I have already talked with the parties involved. It won't happen again." Artemis's words were grim. "What effect has this had on the Nerima bill?"

Yoshida grimaced, "Dead and buried, I'm afraid. If things clear up, I might be able to revive it next year, but it'll be a while before we have the wind at our back." Yoshida gave a slight bow to the woman across the table. "It has been a pleasure, Director. I will send my secretary tomorrow to iron out the details."

Artemis rose. "Of course, Representative. You are welcome to visit the Institute any time. Will you need an escort out?"

"No, I can manage that on my own."

Yoshida turned to exit, but veered when his eyes landed on me. The old politician stopped in front of me and swept my body with an oily gaze. With an aged hand he reached out and grabbed my chin. I smacked the arm aside.

Yoshida took a moment to nurse his arm but did not step back. I could see a bruise forming on his thin skin. He looked back at the Director, ignoring me entirely.

"A new one for your collection?" Yoshida asked.

"Yes. I have special plans for her. But she has been making a nuisance of herself as of late." Artemis warned. "I apologize for the use excessive force, but do not touch her again."

Yoshida looked at me with renewed interest. "Tomboyish," he commented. "And rebellious. Violently so." A subtle, but sadistic smile touched old man's wrinkled face. "You'll be a fun one to play with after you break."

"Did you not hear me the first time, Representative? That one is mine." Artemis said. "Saotome is not a toy for you to play with. The secretary I provided fills that role. If she is not satisfactory, I can have her replaced."

"Disappointing," Yoshida murmured. He looked away and spoke up. "There is no need, Director. I am content with the way things are."

The Representative gave me one last slimy look then removed himself from the room. I watched him as he left, not even trying to disguise my disgust. Happosai, in his petty crimes and shallow lechery, was an infinitely better man than the politician that had left the room. That the Institute dealt with Yoshida only served to damn it further in my eyes.

"Sit," Artemis commanded.

I sat in the chair Yoshida had abandoned. While I moved, Artemis lifted a decanter of deep amber liquid and poured it into a crystal snifter. The volatile scent of alcohol teased my nose as the Director leisurely returned the decanter to its place. The cuffs of Artemis's dress passed over the desk, somehow leaving the papers below undisturbed.

Artemis settled back into her chair and took a sip. She rolled the brandy in her mouth to savor the taste.

"In the future, refrain from hitting a member of the Diet, no matter how much Representative Yoshida deserved it," Artemis said, lounging back in her seat. "But that is neither here nor there. You tried to burn down my school. Explain."

"I tried to escape," I retorted.

"A problem of yours that will be corrected," Artemis said harshly. "And I fail to see how that justifies the destruction of my property."

I snorted. "You expect me to care about your property? Maybe if you start respecting my rights, I'll consider respecting yours."

Artemis swirled the liquid in her crystal cup, dark amber fading into orange as the liquid thinned against the snifter's walls. "It seems to me that we have set off on the wrong foot. You have seen the worst of the Institute, but not the good."

"What? Imprisoning nut cases? Demon slaying?" I shook my head in disgust. "Sorry, but the world worked fine without you."

"I am not speaking of something as simple as cleaning away an infestation of vermin," Artemis proclaimed.

The Director stood, her queenly attire empowering her with an air of authority. For a moment, her eyes and posture pressed into me, making me feel as though I were a child no older than seven sitting in front of the principle. Then she turned away. Artemis strode across the room, her long garments sliding over the floor as she moved.

Artemis stopped at the wall to my left. There, she reached up above a shield bearing a coat of arms and pulled down a talwar. Shhing. Artemis unsheathed the curved blade then rolled its length in the light. The steel shined like a mirror, tainted by splotches of red that ran from tip to hilt.

"Exiled from Atlantis, my ancestor came to the moon and, with this sword, slew the demon god Ginmusaboru. In death, he passed this blade down to his daughter, Serenity the First, to remind all his descendants that every nation is forged in blood and iron. That was the truth those days. It is the truth today. It will be the truth forever."

Artemis resheathed the sword and returned to her chair, setting the weapon on her desk with a heavy thud. "You are, I am sure, aware of the state of this world. Humanity greedily consumes every resources, swine at a trough, breeding and devouring with little regard for the future. Like savages, humans fight amongst themselves for the best place to shove their snout all the while wielding ever greater weapons. Extinction is inevitable."

No shit. Was there anyone in this world that hadn't thought that at least once? Still, I didn't appreciate how Artemis had compared humanity to pigs. I liked even less how she had neatly excluded herself from the same category.

That kind of thinking never went anywhere good.

I rolled my eyes at the theatrics. "Let me guess. You're going to conquer the world in order to save it. You know, you sound like a cliché movie villain."

Against my will, my eyes flickered to the sword. It was in arms reach. One tenth of a second and the hilt could be in my hand. Two more and I could remove Artemis's head from her shoulders.

It was a tempting dream. After a single week, I could already feel the weight of the Institute crushing me. My pride had been smashed time and again. Agony had pierced me so many times that I simmered with anger and hatred.

But the emotion that idea left in its wake was disgust. Kill to escape? Never. I was not so pathetic that I needed to dirty myself in that manner.

"Conquest? How naïve. Did I not make it clear that humans are little better than animals? Did you think a mere firm hand was sufficient?" Artemis asked. "No! Humanity's hunger for power and prestige can never be sated. Those who lack will always strive to tear down those who have. No matter how many times they are put in their place, vermin rise again. Peace requires more than conquest. Humanity must be cleansed. Nothing else will do. And that is why I shall tenki this world."

Huh?

... tenki the world? Surely, she couldn't have said that?

I mean, this was a planet we were talking about. The scales involved were unfathomable. Even if there were a thousand, hell a million, of me working in tandem, I would come up short. Yeah, Artemis was packing a lot more spiritual strength than I had. But a million times?no way.

Tenki a planet? Impossible.

... and completely insane.

Tenki warped both body and soul. It killed. It had nearly killed me when I had used my ki. Like transplanted organs, foreign ki was rejected. If tenki was deadly when self inflicted, it was even more deadly when inflicted on another. Only through special techniques, like Chiyo's cotton candy cocoon, could a coerced tenki be rendered 'safe'.

Artemis's plan was pure and simple murder. She was going to kill everyone. Anyone unlucky enough to survive would be 'purified'.

This was... madness. Impossible madness, fortunately...

...

... or was it?

An evil idea started to crawl its way through my head. Where force failed, finesse sufficed. Tenki was self perpetuating. So, what would happen if you seeded the ley system with pellets of it? Poisoned pills carried to the planet's heart. No. Even with that, the scales were off, the energies too tiny...

... but, what if there were thousands of magical girls helping?

A sick and twisted emotion grew within me.

"Oh yes, child, it can be done," Artemis said, as though reading my thoughts. "Not easily. Not in this primitive era. Thirty thousand girls, and the bulk of the world's economic output, are minimal requirements. Planetary tenki is not a goal to be accomplished in decade. Three at best. A century at worst."

The pieces started to click into place. This was why Artemis needed a magical girl factory. Today's Institute was just the beginning. To find thirty-thousand girls, Artemis would have to scour the land. Was there even enough? The Institute had depleted Japan's magical girl population with a mere two hundred. Throw in the martial artists, the priestesses, and every other magical wannabe, and the pot would still be far from full. There wouldn't be enough...

...not in Japan.

She would have to reach out to other nations. That would mean war. War required soldiers. The JSDF lacked the manpower and the resources. Girls would be put on the front lines, and they would die by the thousands. They would have to be replaced. That meant more war. That meant more death.

World war. World war followed by tenki. Apocalypse atop of apocalypse. Save the world? How was this any better than letting humanity destroy itself?

"You are insane." I whispered my conclusion, not daring to believe it myself.

"Say what you will, girl, but think upon on it. Imagine a new kingdom. An eternal kingdom. A kingdom that knows neither want nor war. A kingdom crowned with perfect glory. Yes, billions will die, but their destiny is already set. My path may pass through the darkness but it leads to hope. Leave things as they are and all that will be left is despair."

"So?" I said scornfully. "Maybe we die. Maybe we don't. You're just turning an unsure thing into a sure thing. If our fate is destruction, then so be it, let us be destroyed."

Crack! The crystal glass shattered in Artemis's hand. The Director's posture had gone ridged and her eyes distant. She looked through me as though seeing a ghost.

"What did you say?" Artemis's question was unusually quiet.

I looked the woman dead in the eye.

"I said, you are insane." My voice was clear and crisp. "Only a madwoman would think she can save someone by killing them. Hope? All I hear is evil. Yeah, maybe we're doomed. Hell, we probably are doomed. But, if we can't stop ourselves from killing ourselves, then we deserve to die. Not that I'm planning to-"

Thud! The air vacated my lungs. Crash! My body slammed into a wall. My vision went black and I flopped to my knees. I blinked to regain sight and coughed. Wet liquid was spat out marring an elegant rug with crimson drops.

What the hell had hit me? It had felt like a battering ram but had come and gone in the blink of an eye. A single attack had brought me to my knees and left six ribs broken.

Artemis swept around her desk. The atmosphere around her shimmered. Waves of force spread out pinning me to the ground with the strength of a giant. At the center of it all was Artemis. Her queenly visage replaced by rage.

"Those words," she hissed. "You dare to lecture me with my niece's words?"

Vines tore through the ground shattering stone and wood. Thick tentacles crawled up the walls and twined around the furniture. Others gripped my legs. They squeezed. Crack! Wood splintered. Steel armor snapped. My muscles turned to putty and I fell to the ground. Pain. Numbness. More vines wrapped around me and I fought to tear them from my throat.

Artemis saw none of it. She was lost in her madness, screaming at the shades of a past long dead.

"Ungrateful wretch!" Artemis spat. "You weren't there! You weren't forced to stand by while your kingdom crumbled, destroyed by a queen too weak to do what needed to be done. I warned her. I warned her again and again. But did she listen? No! She let her kingdom die."

Artemis whirled and her eyes fixated on me. The vines suddenly dragged me up and slammed me again into the wall. They pinned me there with crushing force while Artemis's gaze burned into me like lava born from hell.

"That's right, child. She let it die. She knew, Hecate showed her, and still she let it die. And they called me a monster. I, who bled for the realm. I, who won wars for the realm. I, who cast aside my future for the realm! I am the monster?" Artemis screamed. "The monster was her! She betrayed her people. She killed them all for righteousness. Luna died because of her. And for what? So that a pitiful few Terran savages could live? Death was all she brought. Death and ruin."

Artemis went silent and the vines eased. I took a moment to breath while Artemis's fury turned to ice. The Director approached, her face made of granite. With a strong, elegant hand she seized my choker and yanked me closer. Artemis gazed into my eyes, and I saw in hers nothing but cruelty.

"I have granted you my kindness. I have granted you my honor. I plucked you from the garbage heap called humanity and named you senshi, knight of the Queen, a higher position than any filthy Terran deserves. Still, you spit in my face. Very well. I will show you horror."

"This -hack- is your kindness?" I coughed out. "I'm better off without it."

Artemis threw me to the floor. She swept across the room indolently, her eyes glacial fissures.

"Yes, girl, this is kindness. I have allowed you your essence of self. No longer. You shall be given to Shizue Handa. She will tear from you your dreams and leave behind a hollowed out doll." Artemis smiled in a way that sucked all the warmth from the room. "In the end, you will beg for my kindness. And, because I am merciful, I will grant it.

"Now leave."

With shaking arms, I pushed myself up and into a sitting position. I glared at the woman. "Aren't you forgetting something?" I spat.

Artemis was pitiless. "You have arms, don't you? Crawl."

And so, spurred on by agony, I crawled. My pride burned and anger curdled into hate. As I moved arm over arm, I promised myself one thing and one thing only. One day, I was going to kill Artemis Serenity Silvervine.

-oOo-

Ending Notes:

Trivia

Operant Conditioning – The use of punishment and reward to engender a behavioral change. Operant conditioning is not a 'personality altering' technique. Instead it closer to a 'habit changing' technique. Whether new habits 'stick' after the punishment and reward mechanisms are removed is dependent on a number of complicated factors.

Ministry of Culture [Monbushō] – The Ministry of Culture is the ministry in charge of education during the time period of Haigeki. It was replaced by Monbu-kagakushō or MEXT (Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science, and Technology) in 2001.

Sakki – Blood thirst, or killing intent. Sakki is a common manga/anime trope where spiritual presence conveys the willingness to kill, destroy, or cause brutal harm. Within the scope of Haigeki, sakki is the ki (life energy) let loose by someone that has made a clear decision to kill. Individuals that exude sakki unintentionally are people that have not only killed a large number of people, but tend to solve problems through killing.

Talwar – A kind of curved sword like a shamshir or scimitar. A talwar has a more gentle curve than the shamshir and is thus capable of thrusting attacks as well as slashing.

Ginmusaboru – A loose translation is silver devourer. A demon god that controlled parts of the Moon before Serenity's line established the Moon Kingdom.

Quick Honorifics

I intentionally use the subtle meanings of honorifics in this chapter to denote relationship levels. As such, here is a refresher for those who know and an introduction for those that do not.

Sama – An honorific denoting unusual respect or station of the individual.

Sensei – An honorific generally translated as 'teacher', but is used for a wide variety of highly educated individuals. Doctors are 'sensei', as well as professors and scientists.

Hime – Generally translated as 'princess', though it is more accurate to say 'high class/high born lady'. Hime has the associated connotation that the girl referenced is beautiful and/or possessing lady-like traits.

Senpai – Often translated as 'upper class man', but the real meaning is closer to 'more experienced colleague'. It implies that the recipient is both a colleague and deserving of greater respect due to seniority.

Kohai – Inverse of Senpai, implies 'less experienced colleague'. Despite its meaning, the title is usually not considered demeaning/insulting.

Chan – A somewhat affectionate honorific generally associated with children and girls, and thus diminutive and insulting if used in the wrong context.

Characters

This is a brief guide to characters to help you keep track. Major Ranma characters will not be mentioned.

Rin Suzuki (Carrotcake) [PPI, Luck] – A magical girl with carrot styled magical attacks. She has a cutesy clumsy defense and isn't capable of much other than long range artillery support.

Emiko Watanabe (Fencer) [PPI, Elegance] – A magical knight that wields a crystal epee. She fought and defeated Ukyo and Akane in the first chapter. Ranma found her to be the most skilled fighter of the three.

Artemis Serenity Silvervine [PPI, Distance] – Director of the PPI, and living aunt of the late Queen Serenity. Artemis, by royal law, should have been named queen at the fall of the Silver Millennium, but she was imprisoned for the crime of treason and unable to exert her authority. Instead, Serenity VI named Setsuna as regent until the reborn princess was ready to take the throne.

Though Artemis cannot leave her prison, anyone who knows the proper path may enter or leave at will. With the help of Gondul, her most loyal servant, Artemis has been able to indirectly interact with the world to the point of developing full relations with the Japanese government.

Artemis's defense is 'distance'. She is always too far away to be hit by an attack, unless the attack has infinite range. However, Artemis possess sufficient skill to form just about any variation of a magical girl defense she desires, be it elegance, luck, or barrier. Her natural power is the ability to cause plants to grow, seemingly out of nowhere, but due to Artemis's arcane training there are few forms of magics that she cannot reproduce.

Artemis is a skilled warrior and a war hero from multiple campaigns, mostly against Earth, during the Silver Millennium. She is an expert in multiple forms of hand to hand and ranged combat, and is a known master swordsman. After having experience multiple assassination attempts during the Silver Millennium (a couple that came close to succeeding), she has learned to carry a variety of magical and technological weapons on her person at all times.

Planetary Tenki

Planetary tenki is the action of completing a tenki in such a manner that a celestial body is considered to be 'part' of the individual completing the tenki and thus transformed in conjunction. Because of the scale of celestial objects it is impossible, even for the strongest magical girls, to complete a planetary tenki without assistance. Thus, in order to achieve planetary tenki, a major magic ritual must be used. In the case of large or spiritually dense planets this may require the aid of substantial technological and economic forces.

Planetary tenki is typically completed by injecting haigeki and shuken into key points of the planet's ley system. Once sufficient transformative pressure is reached the core individual completes their tenki and acts as a nucleation point for the planet's transformation. The result is a massive magical burst where a substantial proportion of the planet's energy is formed into a enormous haigeki/shuken transformative force. As a result, all living creatures within the scope of the planet's aura (which may extend thousands of kilometers above the planet's surface) are subject to a coerced tenki. When life is already present this causes a mass die off.

The level of power required to transform a planet is dependent both on the planet's spiritual energy and its physical size. Earth, with a billion year history of life, has the densest spiritual energy in the Sol system. Luna – due to its nearness to Earth – is second in spiritual potency. This is one of the reasons that Sailor Moon exhibits powers far in excess of normal planetary senshi.

Note that Sol, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune have not undergone tenki. Their sheer size and lack of solid structure made planetary tenki impossible even at the height of the Silver Millennium. As a result, the senshi of these planets actually have dominion over a specific moon.

During the Silver Millenium planetary tenki was pursued for the useful advantages it grants. The first, and most obvious, is that the core transforming individual lays claim to a portion of the planet's spiritual energy. The majority of this power can only be wielded in macro form – generating storms, earthquakes or other natural events – and only that when the planet is already prone to such an action. However, a very tiny subset of the energy becomes directly accessible and can be utilized to produce concentrated 'human scale' magical effects. As a result magical girls that have current planetary claims can directly wield powers ten to one hundred times greater than that of Saffron.

Because the spiritual energy pulled from a planet is so massive and uncontrollable, it was common for the key tenki holder to reallocate portions of that power to 'subcontractors'. During the Silver Millennium contract holder families became an ingrained nobility. This system of 'power by birth' was only reinforced by the fact that the constant tenki-like pressure exerted on bloodlines made the aristocracy better suited for the role (... in a mystical sense at least...).

However, the primary reason planetary tenki was utilized in the Silver Millenium was not for the resulting power, but instead to terraform. Tenki aligns a planet with the core life form and thus renders it hospitable to similar life. To the Moon Kingdom planetary tenki proved the easiest and, economically speaking, cheapest way to render a planet habitable.

The terraforming effect of tenki on planets is, unfortunately, somewhat fragile. If the key tenki provider is vacant (e.g. dead) for an extended time (decades) the planet reverts to it's prior environment. In addition, not all planets have sufficient spiritual density to maintain permanent tenki states. In the Silver Millenium this issue was solved by having the spiritually dense core world, Luna, provide constant spiritual streams to the lesser colonies. The strain this placed on Luna's resources was high, and that in turn generated intense interest in adding Earth's massive spiritual pool to the Moon Kingdom's resources. This, above all else, was the source of contention between the two empires.