Second chapter's up, and as promised, the more dramatic stuff is coming up.

This story's not fully linear, as you can tell, and obviously, this is not going to go through the exact historical events. Future chapters will eventually deviate ENTIRELY from history, as for why well you're just going to have to stick around to find out.

Reviews and/or comments are appreciated, critical or otherwise.

Disclaimer: This story is based of Koei's Dynasty Warriors. I do not own the characters or the company and I am in no way affiliated with them.

Chapter 2: Turmoil of the Yellow Turban Rebellion

One month earlier, Cao Cao alongside Yuan Shao had called for all volunteers ready to subdue the increasingly violent actions of the Yellow Turbans' rebellion. But with the laws the way that they were, it soon proved to be a difficult task to follow lawfully. If Cao Cao were to decide how to deal with the insurgents, he would do it through military tactics: force them into a corner, literally if possible, then beat those still willing to fight back into submission until their leader, or the majority of his followers, surrender. No unnecessary victims, low probability of death and the cities and towns would be spared from further damage from the riots. Best of all, it was painfully simple to explain to even the stupidest of people—there was no way that someone could misinterpret that plan. But there was a problem…

"You can't legally do that."

Cao Cao turned to the man called Liu Bei, and studied him carefully. He had earlier ordered that the more powerful backers of this attack be assembled to his own meeting room, and so far that it included the following: Liu Bei, his two 'bodyguards', Guan Yu and Zhang Fei, Sun Jian from the East, Chen Gong and of course himself. There were a few others, but they chose to take a minimalistic approach to this at the start of the meeting, and as a result, Cao Cao had ordered them to leave if they did not want to contribute to the plans. While their cowardice was one of Cao Cao's reasons for dismissing them, there was another reason why Cao Cao wanted those people gone, but that topic will have to be brought up later. "You think it is wrong?"

"I am not saying that it would not work, I am saying that our government would not allow for it."

Cao Cao scoffed at the mention of the government. They consisted of, in his opinion, lazy, no good men whose only true purpose in life is to gain all the money they can while screwing over everyone else in his way. He only kept his role as a consultant to one of the politicians purely for the benefits the position held and because it was the only way to truly progress in such a politically messy country. And while Cao Cao can't admit honestly that he hasn't done any selfish actions similar to the sort in the past, his position as an ex-military commander and current-CEO means that he knows who has the potential and whom he can keep under his thumb. Cao Cao wasn't sure, however, if Liu Bei or Sun Jian counted as people he could keep under his thumb. If he were to continue working with them, it would be difficult to see completely eye-to-eye.

"What would the government know? That's the entire purpose for them to ask for MY help in getting rid of these rebels."

"It's practically martial law. If they're asking us, surely that means this is a serious issue. I hope this doesn't become a repeat of the June Forth incident, Cao Cao." Liu Bei replied.

"So you understand what we're getting into." Cao Cao said, as he recalled the June Forth incident.

He wasn't actually there for the incident, but he was probably a few years younger than the students who did the actual protest. What he did know was that martial law was declared there, when the military took such violent acts against the opposition. It was probably wise that he didn't get involved, as he did remember hearing that the news went international and if he got involved he would surely make headlines either way whether he was rich or poor, influential or a nobody. For some reason, they kept calling it the 'Tiananmen Square Massacre', or something along those lines. Nevertheless, that was in the past, and there were present matters that had to be dealt with immediately.

"We need to strengthen our forces so that we can effectively defeat the Yellow Turbans. Something has to be done." Cao Cao announced.

"Yes, but not by brute force." Sun Jian remarked.

"Definitely not. I don't think this will be the answer." Chen Gong agreed, finally speaking for the first time since entering the meeting room. His voice sounded…irritating to say the least and it was obvious that despite the words being said he was a suck up. But he was a smart suck up, in Cao Cao's opinion, renowned for his intellect. Had he not known of his reputation, he would've kicked him out too long ago.

"I agree that this cannot be the best strategy. But if you are helping me in coming up with a plan, then I have to explain what's going on first, shouldn't I." Both men nodded in agreement, as Cao Cao began the overview. "The plan is to stop the rebels in Shandong. Now, we have already tried to attack them head on and obviously that had little to no effect."

"I'm not surprised. They certainly know how to draw a crowd." Liu Bei added.

Cao Cao nodded. "Knowing their tactics, the only answer that I have in regards to their success in sorcery. It HAS to be sorcery." Cao Cao said in a serious tone, a tone that made many ponder over the choice of words. Obviously, Cao Cao was not the type of man to believe in superstitions of any kind without evidence. "And it seems that it might be, according to reports."

"How so?" Chen Gong asked, although it seemed he was asking more as a formality than anything else.

"Simple, and complicated at the same time." And with that, Cao Cao pushed the button on the remote in his hand. On the projector behind him, everybody turned to look. On the screen was a photo of the Yellow Turban leader, Zhang Jiao, shouting orders as he held what seemed to be a staff, adorned with various Taoist symbols and paraphernalia. In the background, both of his brothers were at his side, also adorned with similar, but far less extravagant staffs.

"It appears there is some kind of mechanism in the staffs." He explained. "And the results are devastating, as you can see."

He flipped to the next slide on the PowerPoint, which turned out to be a video. The men in the room watched in both horror and fascination as they saw Zhang Jiao mutter ancient chants while the flames seemed to spiral around him, protecting him and burning others; the others in this case being police squadrons tasked with protecting the peace and seemingly failing miserably at it. He didn't even seem affected by the flames licking at his skin, as he held his staff with confidence at one point before flinging said flame at another attacking officer. The video ended abruptly, as Zhang Jiao, noticing the camera pointing at him, flung another fireball at the camera, no doubt burning the person holding it as well. Cao Cao cut the video off. He wanted to show them how dangerous they were but he didn't want to scar them. He should know. He watched the entire video earlier on that day.

"We managed to save the film, but the person filming however…wasn't successfully saved from the same fate. Sun Jian, I heard that you were the one who saw these devices."

Sun Jian nodded. "Yes, it was Henan. Zhu Jun helped me in preparing for the attack. I was on the front lines so I did see them. But not like that. They were attachable devices that fitted onto some motorbikes to give them some kind of…power. I don't know. But Zhang Jiao lives up to his reputation as a sorcerer, no matter how ridiculous his claims may be."

Chen Gong smirked, "The 'Way of Peace', they call it. Some ridiculous Taoist sect that has only emerged because of him. Honestly, I only heard about it now but I've heard people say that it existed long ago. That he has the original book detailing these 'teachings', if you can even call them that. Dating back all the way to the Forgotten Era."

"The Forgotten era." Guan Yu murmured.

Oh, what a time it was. A time entrenched with deceit, treachery, but most of all, wars. A period of time lasting a hundred years where there was a battle for supremacy. No one knew what happened at that time specifically, and that led to speculation and stories and fantastical myths in order to ease the frightening curiosity that people sought in times of boredom. Some said that it was really a battle of sorcerers, each wielding the powers of fire, shadow, lightning and water to manipulate their ends and only the strongest of officers was granted the power to help them fight for their masters. Others claimed that it was really a gigantic arms race, all for the coveted treasure that one side felt the other had and that these wars only ended when they all realized that neither side had the treasure anyway, and it was promptly forgotten. But Guan Yu had his own opinions on that era: it was a time of justice and virtue. Where benevolence could only be achieved through force. This force wasn't destructive in his mind, but rather a force that could shape the ends of the people in that time. He held high hopes for such an era struggling with war in the days of yore, just as he had high hopes now, especially for his now-sworn brother, Liu Bei. He had a talent, and he had a mindset that was admirable to say the least. Yes, he was a man that Guan Yu could trust. Otherwise, he wouldn't have taken him into his life so easily. He just hoped that this conflict would end quickly, as much as he enjoyed the power he held in combat.

Putting his mind back to the topic of Zhang Jiao, he proclaimed, "Yes, he has a reputation that would be praiseworthy were it not for his own beliefs. He is zealous, and he must be stopped. If he has the power to amass these people, then we must act with haste in order to counter his attack."

"Well said, Guan Yu," replied Cao Cao. "But it shall be done. For we all have been granted our own weapons to fight this menace on our lands." With that, he withdrew a sword from his side, the blade previously hiding beneath the long dark jacket Cao Cao wore. It gleamed brightly in the artificial light of the room and with it; it instilled a sense of awe. It was marked intricately with varying patterns, swirling and spinning around the blade as though it danced. Above the hilt lied a Yin Yang symbol, and just beside it bore the engraving of its maker and its name: 'Sword of Heaven'.

"We have been bestowed upon us a great power that will help us. And you all will be the first test subjects."

As the men stared at curiosity and reverence to this intricate blade, Cao Cao, in a rare fit of humanity, felt guilty. This was the OTHER reason why he had to remove all those other people. He only had a certain amount of workers and materials to work with and surely not every single person in this room has had training in the noble art of the sword or even held anything so lethal in their own hands. He has to order the weapons in advance and he will ask the rest, in due time, the extent of the nature of their weapons. But for now, he will just have to settle on explaining the true nature of the weapon, for it was not as it seemed. As he thought this, a wicked smile crept up his lips as he prepared to show the power of his new sword.

With a quick but elegant slash of the sword, it seemed standard at first, save for the unusual sparks of light that seemed to emanate it with the slash, but it was after that astounded the group as they gazed at what happened. A clone, identical only in form yet dark as the night, copied his precise movements. The others could not understand why but for a hologram comprised of manipulated light, they could not help but feel the same brute force in this clone's movements as they did with Cao Cao's movements. In short, it seemed a brutal weapon for his use, devastatingly powerful if it can be utilized for anything.

"This is the first of a line of manufactured weapons that have been in development for a long time. I will be honest in that I have not heard of these weapons until recently. Nevertheless, with the riots becoming increasingly violent, these weapons have been issued to anti-riot forces across the country. We will be the first to use them, should the ambush go ahead on the scheduled date."

"So all of us will be able ta make our own 'mini-clone', huh? Doesn't exactly sound that strong." Zhang Fei looked incredulously at the weapon. It definitely isn't his style. Too fancy, he thought, and it made him look like he's going to a dress party rather than to battle. But he kept that comment to himself. His brother was right to withhold the wine today…

"But that's where I am heading with this," With that, he turns to the next slide on his screen. On it was a map of all the major Yellow Turban riots: past and future – colour-coded in different colours to represent the different times of the attacks. "With each of you commanding an attack on each city, you will need to protect yourselves. So I have made arrangements to supply you and some of your immediate subordinates to be delivered these weapons…assuming…" Cao Cao stopped. He had just remembered a TINY detail about the weapons, but a tiny detail that was important. He should have mentioned earlier, he thought in hindsight, as he turned to see the rest of the men look at him with incredulous, watchful eyes. He had accidentally spread doubt, and the only thing left to do was extinguish it, even if it brought consequences with it.

"The weapons…seem to…choose their wielder." He finished. As he said this, the room nearly tripled in volume as the men expressed their confusion and dubiety, practically shouting for an answer. In fact, the only people who weren't in an uproar were Chen Gong and Guan Yu. Everybody else, to varying degrees, expressed their concern in such a way that he had to order them to silence, which succeeded. Cao Cao had to admit, however, that the men assembled must be loyal enough if they found a statement ridiculous as the one he made a serious threat to their well being. He chose them well, he thought.

"Look, Mengde, I understand if people were to express their will to choose," Yuan Shao stated, "but for a weapon to choose YOU? I would scoff at the idea if I didn't know myself how true that is."

"Wait, so it's true?" Sun Jian asked.

"Indeed," He replied. "As a man of noble birth such as I am, I had heard rumours of these mystical weapons. I myself have one." With that, he opened his jacket a little, not a lot, to the rest of the men. Faintly, the glow of golden metal hit their eyes. From the shape, it was definitely the handle of something, a blade perhaps, albeit a thin one. "It's experimental, not even supposed to be used right now if it weren't the perfect real-life scenario to test them. But Mengde is right. Not anybody can wield them. Observe."

Yuan Shao graciously 'borrowed' Cao Cao's sword (but not without the complimentary death glare from said man for touching it in the first place) and tried to replicate the swing that Cao Cao had made. Obviously, it seemed to be much heavier than it let on, or it was simply much heavier than Yuan Shao expected. What was noticeable about it however was that the shadow ceased to appear. Even as Yuan Shao held the blade, it seemed more lackluster and dull in his hands than it ever did in Cao Cao's hands despite the more 'posh' look of Yuan Shao.

"Cao Cao's weapon doesn't work for me because I'm not 'compatible'." He continued to explain. "It simply is too brutal to match the finer graces of a man of my class and thus, in my hands it is but a humble sword. There are others out there who can wield its true power but none that are known apart from Cao Cao."

"Even in research?"

"Especially so. So far, not even the strongest people in the world can wield its true power. The only people so far known is my noble self, Cao Cao, and it seems Zhang Jiao and his brothers also. No one knows why certain people only can wield these weapon's special power."

"Zhang Jiao had access to those weapons, and he stole a staff when he left the project. It seems that he has mass produced it." Pointing back to the screen, Cao Cao added, "As I said earlier, we have our own line of workers who are as we speak making the special preparations for these weapons. They will await your instructions after this meeting. But I ensure you on this, if we follow this plan, we will ensure not only our victory but the end of the Yellow Turbans for good."

As the men gave a quick hurrah in response, Cao Cao told them the final details of the attack they are to take part in in their respective city and soon, the men proceed to go their separate ways. Cao Cao went through the meeting again in his head and concluded that they were good men, at least for the time being. These men, from different breaths and walks of life, are united together for one ambition: the demolition of the Yellow Turbans. And Cao Cao is going to be in the forefront of it, destroying all those who'll dare stand in his path to glory.

Of that, Cao Cao is certain. Very certain.

As Zhang Jiao ran across the city street, his stare turned to the bodies of his followers lying on the ground, unmoving, immobile. The unmistakable stench of tear gas and the bruising left by the bean bags shot from the shot gun and the lack of blood gave him solace that his followers were not dead, merely unconscious. He prayed that was the case. But he still has to hurry, to escape, to get away. He ran forward, twirling, dodging past the bodies strewn but there are far too many to just run through without hurting someone.

How could the gods wish him this cruel, insufferable fate? He did what they wished. He gathered so many people, he healed so many and for free too. He did not ask for compensation. He did not ask for one thing but their help, if they can, to help others. Many refused but just as many accepted. And the virtues he preached were virtuous and just, they were as if they were what the heavens wished for, to recreate their image on this unholy land. And the heavens wished to show their dissatisfaction with the way this world was being treated the only way they could: the insufferable appearance of their awe-inspiring wrath. And he did what they asked of him. And this was their reward to him? For all that he has done in their almighty cause.

No, it wasn't the gods. It was that treacherous man: Cao Cao. He knows was that he wants that man dead. If he himself was a servant of the heavens, that Cao Cao man was a lord of hell: a lord who thrived in chaos. He was dangerous. And it was because of the insistent pursuit of that man that he has to keep running. He has to keep running…

With the combined effort of both his legs and brain working together, Zhang Jiao made it through the maze of bodies and was running full course to safety. If he could escape and find one person to give him the help and kindness he needed, he will gladly pay them back a thousand fold, a million fold if he had the opportunity. Anything he could give, he'll give it. But no one was around. It was quiet. Too quiet. But he still has to keep running.

As he made it continued through the empty streets of the city, the silence put him up at his wits, and the streets, once so vast and full of life, felt like a coffin, slowing pushing down on his body. Any noise he makes will echo for kilometers almost. That will notify the men chasing him. Quickly, he made a left turn at a T-junction, for the other road is strewn with bodies. It seems to be the safest too.

Only when he has ran already nearly a half-kilometer through the road that he realized that it was a market street. There are no turns for a long time, especially on foot, unless he went back. There are no alleyways to hide in because they are closed by looming, crudely painted gates that seem to be taunting at him, laughing at him for his failure. He cannot cut through the shops because the citizens who chose not to take sides closed them up prematurely, to hide from the heaven's wrath. Oh how ironic it is that these people could have been his saving grace from the skies themselves. It comforted him that the silence meant that he could hear someone come to him. He cannot be ambushed if their position was to be compromised in the first place.

He slowed down his pace a bit due to his sapped strength, but it soon quickened when he heard a clicking noise. Then he realized that the noise was a tapping noise. Shortly after that, when the pace quickened, he soon recognized that it was the noise of the sole of a shoe hitting the ground. Someone was chasing him, and whoever that was, they had found him. So he ran, he ran as fast as his legs would allow, the staff in his hand providing no solace. He received it to show the fiery depths of hell to all those who went against the heavens themselves, the staff was clearly not designed for him to attain the ability to fly or quicken his speed. But nevertheless, he ran. He had no energy left after all that running to fight, even if it was just one person.

But that person became two, when he heard the same clicking of the heel coming from the other direction, approaching him at break neck speeds. And then it became five. Five people were approaching him. And there was no escape. So he did the only thing he could. He put his hands in the air, kneeling to the hard, dirty, hole ridden concrete. Within a few seconds, he was surrounded 3: 1, only for his pursuers to find that Zhang Jiao, the leader of the Yellow Turbans, has surrendered.

"What shall we do with him?" One of the men asked.

"Hmph. At least he knows when to give up." Cao Cao muttered. "Knock him out."

"K-knock him out?" The same man asked. "He just surrendered. At least give him some dignity and arrest him."

"How?" Cao Cao looked doubtfully at the man. "We are not policemen. I do not carry handcuffs around for the sheer fun of it." Zhang Jiao swore that he could hear the other two of the men snigger from outside his view, muttering something along the lines of "I wouldn't be surprised if he did" but it seemed to have gone unnoticed by Cao Cao.

Zhang Jiao might have scoffed at most, but he was too fearful for his own life to so much as laugh. But he stayed in position, hoping to be getting a quick and painless death, some reimbursement for his servitude to the gods above.

And then it hit him. An unseen light that seemed to surround his being, as if warming him from the inside itself, so soothing, he thought. And with it, his mind quickly eased. He feels as if he is what the gods were everyday: at one with everything, with peace in their hearts and the world at their fingertips, to shape, to create, to prosper. That is what he feels at the moment. And then, he feels like he is falling. As seated as he is on the ground, as much as he sees it with his own eyes, he feels as though that very concrete he is on was no more, an illusion, a figment that never existed. But it was the finale of this that shook him the most, for with it numerous images played in his head, like a sped up video, the images, some moving and some still, transitioned between each other so many times that it is almost impossible to keep up but for some reason, Zhang Jiao felt as though he could understand it all. And as the final image appeared, he knew. THIS is the compensation he sought from the heavens. This was his reason on the earth.

As he felt his body return to his control, as though his soul returning to his body, the elysian presence he felt within himself vanished, and his mortal, worldly emotions and desires returned to him. Including the feeling of panic over the implications of that he has just seen. And with an almost ethereal strength, he stood up; the pain seemingly vanished from his joints. In particular, he turned his almighty gaze to the three men.

"You must not let the past define your actions."

"What?" All three men exclaimed.

"This has been repeating for too long. The consequences are too dire. Please, you must stop the cycle."

Before they could ask for the meaning of his enigmatic words, he dropped, his body now fully unconscious, leaving the three men staring, struggling to come to terms with what has happened.

This would be the first time that the three men would doubt the nature of their actions, their own morality in comparison to the grand scheme of things. This was not the last.

As Cao Cao, Sun Jian and Liu Bei entered the compound, they gave a silent nod to the guard, and that guard opened the heavily locked door to a solitary room with no furniture except a table and three chairs, one at their side and two at the opposite side; no light except for a tiny light bulb nearing the end of its life and no other person but the two men, alike in appearance, sitting at the chairs at the end of the table, their shackles chaffing badly on their skin.

It was clear that they didn't want to talk, but they had to. After all, these three men supposedly have information on their brother, Zhang Jiao, and for whatever reason they are the ones to impart that knowledge.

They expected the man in the black trench coat with the dark purple shirt, the ringleader of this unholy attack, to be the one to do the talking but surprisingly, the man in the green jacket is the one to take the seat, silently signifying that he is to be the one to bear the brunt of the news: good or bad.

"Hmph. So you are to be the one to tell us about our brother? Spare us the bad news. He's dead, isn't he."

They also expected some kind of harsh comment of some sort. Some gloating. Some admonishing. Some prideful sniveling against their actions, including their brother's. Something. And they were well prepared for that, but they never expected the pitiful, sorrowful expression that the man in the chair held. "I'm afraid he's suffering a fate worse than death."

As the brothers looked to each other, each of their fears was confirmed. They were torturing him. They must be. Getting some information out of him, probably as they speak. It's unlikely he'll see the light, even if he survives. "So what do you want from us then? Spare us this torment. We want to see our brother!"

All three men looked at each other nervously. They didn't want to speak about it. Probably too gruesome to say, but while the three of them have not known each other for long, they knew enough about each other to silently seek the opinion of the others. They silently agreed to go ahead. Once again, Liu Bei spoke, "Do you know who I am?"

The brothers were confused. They had not seen this man before, but he must have been a part of the group who hunted and hounded their brother for so long. Still, he seemed familiar, like the feeling one gets when reuniting with a long lost friend. It was similar, but this had a more negative feeling to it.

"No," they lied, as they tried to shake away this unusual feeling of familiarity mixed with discomfort.

"Well, it doesn't matter anyway." He states, "Nevertheless, I will have to tell you the bad news."

Liu Bei takes a big breath and then exhales. It calms him a bit. Not much but it was enough to calm him down, to let him say the words he wishes to speak. "Your brother's in hospital. In a coma…stable however."

The two brothers contemplate the words, and they accept that whatever this man was saying was the truth. "Was it induced?" One asked.

"No. He was like that when I…when WE found him." He turns his head to the men at his side. They acknowledge his words, confirming the worst. Zhang Jiao may not be dead, the brothers thought, but he's as close to it as anything.

"Why are you telling us this? Why YOU, of all people?" The brothers asked, their words directed to Cao Cao in particular. He gave an annoyed look in response, understanding that these words are meant for him.

"He speaks of some cycle. We do not know what he speaks of. We wish to find out."

It was technically true what he said, but he personally wanted to also find out if these men had any other powerful allies, any who might turn to be a pesky problem in the future. He wishes to…exterminate the problem, incapacitate, if he wants his next moves to be fruitful. He needs to watch his words.

The brothers only stared in confusion. His brother never mentioned any 'cycle' in any conversation they ever had. This was the first time they heard it. "What are you talking about?"

The man in the tiger print jacket speaks, his voice lacking the sincerity and the menace of Liu Bei and Cao Cao's voices respectively, his voice instead resounding with confidence and pride. "He mentioned a cycle that the three of us are involved in. That our actions in the past must be forgotten, to make sure they don't lead us to something." He slammed the desk, the impact shaking all in the room, including Cao Cao and Liu Bei. "Were you keeping track of us? Is there a mole within us? Who's HELPING YOU?!"

The men cowered in fear, not knowing what to say, not knowing what they are talking about. Until it hit them. The feeling of airiness. The feeling of freedom. No longer do they feel like they are in a prison but in the confines of heaven itself. Cao Cao, Sun Jian and Liu Bei noticed the change in their expression, how their eyes look like they were glazed over, like the eyes of a doll. They were vaguely aware of it with Zhang Jiao, but now they gave their whole attention to this sudden change in atmosphere, the room no longer filled with tension but with light instead. It was unsettling, this unusual peace.

"Well, well, look what we have here. I never thought this would happen." The first brother said.

"Indeed, the fact that they haven't killed each other yet is a miracle of its own. Then again, they do not have reason to fight yet do they." The second brother replied.

The three men looked at the two men in shock. Not only was their aura different, but it seemed like their personalities changed as well. They couldn't help but gape as they stared into their milky, almost glowing eyes.

"I wonder what will happen this time? Will the Musketeer win? Or maybe Odin? Or will our very own King Arthur win?" After the brothers chuckled a bit, they added, "I wonder if they remember."

"I doubt it," the other said. "After all, we just remembered ourselves."

The two brothers turned their heads to the three men, the three each trying to make head or tails of the situation, and are obviously failing. They were amused even further as Cao Cao tried to mentally get a grip on things and failing, struggling to figure out if he was Odin or King Arthur.

The brothers smiled. They were whole, they were one. All of their memories were one again. They know it won't last: this isn't the first time that they had this revelation and this isn't the first time that they had encountered the three of them like this.

"Try to remember who you were." They say, noting that the jubilant feeling in their bodies was leaving. "Maybe you might even learn from your own mistakes." The brothers nodded in acknowledgement. They were at peace, as their bodies slowly fell onto the hard wooden table. Within seconds, the two brothers collapsed.

Cao Cao grimaced. "Call a guard, will you? 'Musketeer'?"

"Oh, ha ha, Cao Cao." Nevertheless, Liu Bei got up and left the room to contact the guard outside. He returned within a few seconds. "It's done. But we have to stay here while they question us."

"We'll wait." Sun Jian murmured as he turned to the unconscious bodies. "I just hope that this is the end of the craziness."

The other two nodded in agreement, as they mournfully looked at the unconscious but alive bodies of the two brothers before them.

"Still, this is weird. Two times in a day." Liu Bei murmured.

"Gotta be some new record, eh…"

"I guess. But…I don't know, don't you feel that there's something familiar about the two of them?

"I…do." Cao Cao said, Liu Bei and Sun Jian turning to face him. "This doesn't feel like this is the first time that we've had this conversation. Perhaps…we've met them before, but I cannot for the life of me remember where…or when."

The men silently agreed, spending the rest of their time with silence, with no sound to be heard but their own inner thoughts.

A few minutes later, the guard came in to escort the three for an interview. It was clear, concise, to the point. They wasted no time to shout at the three until Cao Cao pointed out the camera in the room, and that the same model camera was in the meeting room where they met the other two Zhang brothers. On. And he knew that if it was off for any reason, it could end in a fierce legal battle should they be incriminated any further.

With a hesitant but angry nod from the interviewer, the men left, each going to their respective homes but neither could take their minds off the words of the three brothers, the look on their faces, the ephemeral glow that surrounded them before they collapsed. Each vowed to remember their words, hoping that it would hold some significance but alas, it did not. The answers were not there. These men, born of a different cloth, shared a similar fate that night, sleeping restlessly, their bodies yearning for some release from this mental torture.

By the time dawn broke, all three had forgotten, the vow to remember the brothers' words also vanishing, along with the memories, in the wind.

Sorry to end this on a downer note, but it's going to get worse from here on out.I mean it when I say this story is not for those seeking literal 'Romance of the Three Kingdoms'.