Written by Ed Duarte ([email protected])

 

Prologue

 

Thus, the Seven once again merge,

Compelled by forces beyond their comprehension.

The Dangerous Times have begun.

The pendulum swings,

The events are set into motion.

Question reality.

The meeting place of worlds,

The disruption of Eschaton that led the deceased there,

The live ones there, from lands beyond.

Prepare yourself...

 

 

                “From my studies, I have concluded that these phenomena known as ‘gates’ are in fact, natural. Lavos did not create gates, nor is he the source of them. They are in reality, weaknesses in the time/space continuum, sort of ‘worm-holes’ that were probably created, theoretically, when the universe, as we know it, was patched together. There are different theories; the Gods created life, the famous ‘Big Bang’ theory, and many others. But what I believe is that the universe was always there. A strange concept, but when you take these primitive beliefs of various Gods having ‘always been there’, is it not possible for the universe to have always been there? True, galaxies and solar systems were created from superheated gases and matter, but the eternal void, the infinite realm of outer space, was in fact not created, according to my point of view.

 

                “Of course, space may be eternal, but as for its structure being eternal.. scientists are still debating this subject from this time up until 2304 A.D. I have to agree with the scientists that support the theory of the fabric of space/time steadily weakening over the years. Another catalyst--a proof, if you will--in this theory of spacial deterioration is the arrival of the extraterrestrial being known as Lavos, who had seeked out this planet long ago in the past, when man’s ancestors were fighting with sentient, advanced reptilians over who would end up being the top of the evolutionary pyramid. Lavos’s original mission was, theoretically, to absorb the life energies of every living this that had ever existed on this planet. Of course, that mission was halted when the events that led to the destruction of Lavos occurred. While Lavos was in the Earth’s core, in his wake of arriving to Earth he left a tremendous disturbance in the space/time continuum, probably due to the speed at which he was traveling. From this, minute and seemingly insignificant weaknesses in the space/time fabric around this world grew into veritable tears in the fabric, ones that would open if the proper coaxing could be accomplished. This took form in Lucca’s ‘Gate Key’.

 

                According to popular belief, all gates vanished when Lavos was destroyed. But this is simply not true. Gates have been in existence since the superheated gases in the void of space condensed into solid matter, forming planets, long, long ago. It was the formation of solar systems, stars, and galaxies that created the weaknesses in the space/time fabric, ones widened a great deal by the arrival of Lavos. Even after his death, they still remain, waiting to be opened using the proper instruments. Magic and Technology both can be used to open gates. I come to the point of this whole topic. Now, from the past adventures of the Six companions and I, it has been proven that these gates lead to various time eras in our universe, placed on our world. But I believe that there is a possibility that these gates can also lead to places outside our world, our universe. Is it so hard to believe? Obviously, these gates that lead to different time eras are mere rips in the fabric of space/time. Think of the possibilities of a gate that is not a simple rip, but a gaping hole. Where could it lead? Maybe we shall never know.”

 

-Janus, during his lecture to the Conclave on the theories of dimensional gateways,

Circa 11,998 B.C.

 

 

               

 

                Do you really believe... that a gate will only lead to areas in your own universe...?

 

 

 

                Narshe, Northern Continent

 

                The constant drip-drip of water was not the only sound in the mines today. Several minutes earlier, there was a sound of thunder as Whelk was brought out to intercept the intruders. The guards of Narshe prided themselves on their creation, a biological weapon, a giant mollusk designed to absorb damage and convert it to electric energy, and release it in the same manner; Whelk.

                About an hour earlier, there were reports from scouts of a small group of Imperial soldiers advancing at a slow, but steady rate toward Narshe. Alarms were sounded, every citizen went through the routines of a commonly practiced drill, leaving the streets barren and empty. The guards silently waited, knowing that their lives would probably come to an end that day. And they were right.

 

                Magitek Armor. A creation only a few years old, a hulking, bipedal machine operated by a sole soldier, weapons gained from diluting Esper blood and bio-energy into a fuel of some sorts. The fuel was guaranteed to make the walking armor last for about twelve years without shutting down, and also was the energy source for the beam and projectile weapons on the craft. Fire, Ice, and Bolt blasters were easily accessed by the flick of a switch, channeling the three basic elemental magicks into concentrated beams of energy, burning, freezing, or electrocuting anything in their path. The TekMissile was an marvelous weapon, self propelled by a small pack of fuel, able to reach unattainable speeds, solid shells of steel and uranium, delivering enough kinetic energy on impact to collapse an entire small castle in one shot. Only reserved for the elite, the TekMissile seldom was used in skirmishes, being that the cost of manufacturing them was expensive, even with Vector’s large treasury. Today, however, it was used plentifully.

                A small squad of three Imperial soldiers in Magitek Armor had entered the town of Narshe, their intentions well known by the guards: to capture the frozen Esper. The guards fought valiantly, but their weapons were outdated; mere cudgels that would just chip away the paint of the walking armor. Only Whelk was the peak of Narshe’s technological weaponry project. And even it had been defeated, under the barrage of beams and missiles from two grunts, and an elite trooper girl.

 

                The girl’s face was emotionless as she marched over the remains of Whelk, crushing shell and sinew in her wake. Vicks and Wedge trailed her, watching the back. They were quite willing to put her on the front lines, and she seemed more than able to take care of herself.

                “Shit, she totally trashed that thing...” came Vicks’s voice, sounding tinny through the intercom of the Magitek Armor. His mecha marched over the remains as well, sounds of cracking and squishing following him along as he crushed shell and flesh that was already charred. He pulled out a long, thick Victory Cigar, courtesy of the Imperial Army Rationing, and bit the end off, striking a match between his own fingers to light the tip. he took a few puffs before he used it sparingly, blue smoke rising to the roof of the cave.

                Vicks was the younger of the two, but as battle-hardened as his partner Wedge. His eyes were not visible through the helmet with it’s infared visor, though when they were they were dark and cold. His hair was shoulder length and tied back, and he was in need of a good shave. Vicks clenched the cigar with his teeth, puffing as little as he dared, since he only received two of these every month. His first one was gone already, lit up on the day that the Imperial Army overtook Maranda, the last of the cities on the Southern Continent.

                “Quiet! And keep your guard up!” came the harsh whisper of Wedge, the more aged of the two. His face bore a few wrinkles, as well as battle scars which he tended to proudly display. His eyes were grey and full of wisdom, when they weren’t obstructed by his helmet, that is. His hair showed streaks of white, and was the same shoulder length as Vicks’s, since that was the maximum length allowed for soldiers. And also, he was in need of a shave, since he had brought no razor on the long trek to Narshe. Though he was fond of strong drink, Wedge did not approve of his younger partner’s love of cigars, and waved away bluish smoke that drifted in his direction, trying not to cough. He was about to once again reprimand his colleague, when the girl--the sorceress, of a higher rank--signaled them with her hand to halt. The two obeyed grudgingly, frustrated but not willing to resort to insubordination.

                “What is it?” asked Wedge. The girl only pointed. The two soldiers looked in the direction that the girl was pointing to, and discovered what they had been looking for the entire mission.

                A creature, clearly a bird of some sorts, though it exhibited traits of reptiles as well. It had a long scaly tail, as well as feathers of blue, red, and green. It had talons (or claws?) that were long and sharp, as well as a beak. But it’s eyes... they contained the vertical pupils of a snake or lizard. According to Cid, director of the Magitek Research Facility, this Esper was known as Tritoch. Unlike the others that had been found in the Sealed Gate, this one had been frozen in this area since the War of the Magi, around a thousand years ago. It was a large creature, fearsome looking even in its frozen shell (we would see this creature as sort of like the Quetzocal of the Mayan legends--forgive my spelling or lack of proper historical information).

                The girl walked closer to the frozen Esper, seemingly in a trance. The blank look on her face revealed one of confusion, then of amazement. The two soldiers behind her looked at each other dubiously and then back at the girl.

                “Hey, what’s the matter?” asked Vicks cautiously. “Do you know something we don’t?” The girl said nothing, just continued to stare at the frozen Esper, in awe.

                The frozen Esper began to emit a strange light...

                It was strange, mind boggling. Almost as if the Esper and the girl were.. communicating.

                Wedge was the first to get his thought together and try to find out what was happening. “Where’s that light coming from?” he asked harshly to the girl, who did not answer him. Suddenly, the light enveloped him. “Uwaa...!”

                Wedge, the old grizzled veteran, was gone. “Wedge!” yelled Vicks, trying to be calm despite the strange event. “Where the hell are you? What’s happening--arrgh!” the yell was the last thing that came from him as the light enveloped him as well, and then he was gone as well.

                Vaporization, not vanishing, was what had happened to the soldiers. The intense light burned away their walking armor and themselves instantly, charring them beyond ashes, until nothing remained. The girl was oblivious to what happened to them, still in her Magitek Armor, another strange light coursing between her and the frozen Esper...

                The rest of the story you already know. Except of Vicks and Wedge...

 

 

*************************

 

                Newark, NJ, U.S.A. Circa 1999 A.D.

 

                He walked down the streets, trying to be inconspicuous. And succeeding. Contrary to popular belief, if he had dressed in a million-dollar suit with slicked back hair and a close shave, he would be more noticeable in the streets among the crowd. So he naturally opted for the less subtle and more simpler clothing. Tattered pants in army colors, a tank top with the logo of the old punk band Bad Brains scrawled on it in slowly fading red paint, shoes badly in need of repair, leather gloves with the fingers cut short, like biker gloves. Ruffled brown hair and cheap sunglasses completed the outfit, as well as a face in need of a shave. This, and not the attire of a professional, was how Rokan preferred it.

                Rokan. That wasn’t his real name, of course. Whatever it was, he no longer used it. Names held power, no matter how anyone looked at it. In his business, Rokan chose not to let anyone have power over him by revealing his true name. He was a man of around twenty-five years, brown haired, brown eyed. Not too tall and not too short. Perfect for his appearance. He looked more like a mere ruffian than a professional burglar. Looked more like someone who would smash a store window with a brick to get in rather than one who would find an alternate entrance, or cut the glass carefully and check for security lasers and cameras before proceeding. And a professional Rokan was.

                As he walked down the streets, he chewed on a toothpick and hummed a few Rasta Punk melodies to himself, hands in his pockets, thinking about what his new assignment would be. Of course, he was not in the business alone. He worked with someone he could trust completely. His agent was Miko, a Japanese-American woman two years older than him. Raven haired with almond-shaped eyes, like the elves that captivated Rokan in childhood books, lithe but strong as her will was. Miko was not her real name, as Rokan was not his. Like him, she also chose to keep her real name secret. It was a secrecy that both agent and thief respected, even thought their relationship went further that . Once, they had even been in the trade together, until Miko decided to call it quits and resort to being his agent. He remembered the evening a few years back when she gave him an expensive Italian suit she had stole for him, (a disguise needed in one of their runs) and how she had taken it off of him that same night...

                Rokan reveled in the memory. Miko did not share his interests in his musical taste, nor his desire to be living on the edge, but she did appreciate his fondness of literature and travel as well as his... other interests. He had recieved a call from her, one informing him of a possible run. Details were to be given in person, her not willing to risk giving it over the phone. Fine with Rokan. In fact, where he was on his way to now was his apartment.

                After a long walk, Rokan arrived at his apartment complex, a tall building in need of renovating. The apartments weren’t so shabby, though. He briskly stepped in through the doors and punched the up button on the elevator. Instantly one of the elevator doors slid open, and Rokan walked inside, punching the button for the last floor.

 

                Miko sat back on the couch, reading one of her favorite books, an old, short sci-fi novel by the name of Logan’s Run. She had a passion for old science fiction. It was interesting to look back at the past decades and see how they viewed the future. Inherit The Stars was another favorite, a worn, dog-eared copy with a bookmark stuck in there somewhere lying on the night stand beside the couch.

                There was a knock on the door. Miko stood up and set the book aside, going to the door and using the spyhole to check who it was before she opened it. Sure enough, Rokan stood there with an impatient look on his face. She gave a small laugh and opened the door for him. The door shut behind him, and he and Miko shared a brief kiss.

                “New biz?” he asked, kicking off his shoes and grabbing a Tsing-Tao from the refrigerator.

                Miko nodded. “Yeah. Some dude called, name of Pletcher. I made sure he approached through the right channels, he’s no cop.” she cleared her throat. “Anyway, he was looking for someone to ‘retrieve’ a stolen object. Documents, specifically. Kept inside a manila envelope labeled ‘Top Secret’.” she chuckled, along with Rokan. “Pretty obvious, ne?”

                Rokan nodded, taking a sip of the Chinese beer. “He give us a location?”

                “Yeah, a clothing warehouse downtown, labeled 8904, off of Central Avenue.”

                Rokan absorbed the information. “Got it. Looks like a night job to me. I’ll get my gear ready.” He got up, setting the half-full beer bottle aside along with several empty cans of Sapporo. “I’ll make sure this Pletcher gets what he wants. He paid in advance, right?”

                “I made sure. Don’t worry.” said Miko, ruffling his messy hair.

                Rokan stroked her smooth hair. “Wish me luck, ok?” he bent down to kiss her. She grabbed him by the neck, dragging him down to her level, returned the favor with intense passion.

                “You owe me...” she whispered in his ear, in a tone that promised another night of ecstasy. He succumbed to her urges willingly, working at the straps to her brassiere as she pulled off his shirt. The two writhed in their love heat for a long time before the sun set, orange rays lighting up the evening sky.

 

                The beat up car made it’s way down the rugged streets, it’s brand and date of manufacturing long lost. Harsh music blasted from it as the car screeched to a halt at a red light, few cars beside it. Not many people came down here at night. They took the freeway.

                Central Avenue was at the next intersection, and Rokan took a sharp right there. He seemed at peace, despite the loud music issuing from the car’s speakers. Beside him was a bag of what he needed: hinge oil; a black ski mask, as well as black leggings and a black tunic; a tanto, razor-sharp and in its sheath; a small flashlight; and an automatic pistol, along with several clips of ammunition. No heavy weapons were suited for espionage.

                The warehouse came into view after a few minutes of driving, and Rokan slowed down, picking a spot away from it. An abandoned parking lot with a closed down K-Mart was his choice; several other cars were parked there already, most of them the only homes for the people who owned them. He parked, turning off the lights. Opening the bag quickly, he smeared greasy black paint over his eyes and the area around it, to keep the skin from showing brightly. He donned the ski mask as well as the leggings and tunic, strapping the ­tanto­ to his side and holstering the black pistol. Ready, he got out of the car and locked the doors, slipping the key into a hidden ‘pocket’ under the car. It would make too much noise if taken with him. And if I lose this car, thought Rokan, there’s always the repo man to help out. He didn’t notice the figure standing on top of the K-Mart building, black-robed, seemingly watching his every move...

                Silently he blended in with the darkness. Not many people noticed him, and those that did steered clear of him. Not wise to interfere with other people’s biz. Soon he was in the area of the warehouse. He sneaked down the side of it, looking for a grate, a bathroom window, something that would serve as an entrance besides the door. Rokan eventually found a basement window, a tight squeeze yet able to let him inside. He quickly fitted a silencer on the barrel of his pistol, and knelt on the side of the window, out of its view. Slowly, he opened the window a crack, getting closer to it in order to hear if anyone was inside. No breathing, no shuffling of feet. Just darkness. Perfect. He slowly opened the window until it was big enough to fit his figure. He slipped in and landed feet first on a linoleum floor, executing a forward roll to absorb the impact and lessen the noise. He holstered his pistol, silent, looking for a door. He muttered a soft curse at his forgetfulness. He had brought no light source. He would have to wait until his eyes adjusted the dark.

                A light. To his side, several yards away. Not a big light, just a small beam, coming from under a door. Bright enough to help him see more around that area. There was a ventilation duct just above that door. Rokan swiftly and quietly removed it, slipping into the shaft without so much as a scrape. Once inside, he produced a folded sheet of paper: blueprints. Studying them under the light of his flashlight, he discovered the route to the room where the documents supposedly were. A right turn here, straight ahead for a few yards, then first grille on the left. Simple. Arriving at his destination, he peered into the grille to see if there was anyone on guard. He couldn’t help but to make some noise crawling through the ventilation shaft, and he didn’t want a regiment of guards down his throat.

                No one was there, however. He removed the grille in the same manner that he had removed the first one, not without a bit of a struggle in the confines of the shaft. Dropping down and landing on the tips of his toes, he made his way to a table where Pletcher, according to Miko, had said that the documents were. Sure enough, the “top secret” envelope was there. Almost too easy...

                It was too easy. The door burst open just as Rokan laid hands on the folder, and he was face to face with a tall merc, an old AK-47 pointed at him.

                “Hands up,” the merc growled, his trigger finger itching to fire. Rokan obliged, lifting his hands in the air, dropping the folder. As it fell on the floor a ream of blank white papers spilled out, nothing written on any of them. Rokan cursed. It was a setup! The man briskly frisked Rokan, fishing out the black pistol and the tanto, stuffing them away in a pocket in his coat.

                “So much for Pletcher,” Rokan muttered, quietly but loud enough for the merc to hear. The big man laughed out loud, moving aside from the door as another figure walked inside. About Rokan’s height, wearing a crisp black business suit and Italian shoes, million-dollar shave and haircut, his handsome features marred by a viscous scar that ran down his face from his left eye to his neck. The man walked up to Rokan, yanking off the black ski mask. His gaze was one of malice.

                Rokan snickered, despite his position. “Well, well, I didn’t expect to find YOU here, Percy.” he recieved a blow across the face from the man in the suit.

                “Well, you did. You think I forgot the time you infiltrated my organization and gave me this?” Percy angrily pointed to the scar on his face. “Well now I’m gonna make you pay... hehe. Looks like this ‘Pletcher’ deal worked out quite well. I’ve got ways of finding out about you, Rokan. It was only a matter of time before I got you apartment phone number and rigged up the phony call.” he laughed, coughing and spitting out phlegm.

                Rokan gave him a wry look. “Get cancer smoking too much of those Macanudos.”

                “Shut up!” came Percy’s harsh reply. “I suggest you do as we say, especially since we know where you live and whom you live with...”

                Rokan suddenly rushed up toward the man, but stopped when he felt cold steel on his throat. The merc was at his side, and how he got there so fast, Rokan did not know. The blade of a switchblade was at his neck, urging him to rush further so it could sever his jugular. Rokan gritted his teeth, finally feeling the desperation of the moment.

                “Shit!”

                Percival “Percy” Vincent chuckled in his raspy voice, the kind that makes you want to clear your own throat.

 

                “Are you sure, master, that this man will be sufficient?”

                The voice replied, “He will do.”

                “There are many like him. I can easily find someone less blundering than this simpleton--”

                “Him. I have not the time to waste on looking for an expert. Do as I say!”

                The other voice was meek in apology. “Yes master...”

 

                Rokan was tied up against a chair in the middle of the warehouse, a vast area sure to make the agoraphobic a little more than uneasy. The merc, along with several other of his kind, all stood on guard at regular intervals in the warehouse, all armed with some type of automatic weapon. Percival Vincent paced back and forth in front of his prisoner, brow furrowed in deep thought. Finally he stopped directly in front of Rokan.

                “You know, I could really ruin your career rather than off you right here.” he said, a wry smile on his face.

                Rokan spat on the floor, inches from Percival’s expensive shoes. “Your full of shit.”

                “Percy” just chuckled annoyingly. “Nope, afraid not. I know that your real name is Logan Ballard, and that you were born on July 15, 1975. Your agent is Misato Sonoda, a half-breed wench a few years older than you. You live in the apartment building off of Parker Street, room 57...”

                Percival’s eyes bulged as he fell down, clutching his groin. Rokan’s boot had connected solidly. Percy gasped and wheezed, barking orders in a pained voice to his bodyguards, the mercenaries. The merc that had stopped Rokan first came rushing toward him, kicking his in the stomach and making him fall forward in his chair, coughing and retching. He continued to punch and kick at Rokan’s unyielding form until Percival shouted for him to stop, getting up.

                “Alive! I want him alive!” he said, shoving the merc aside as he made his way in front of Rokan again. “Rokan, my boy, I wouldn’t do that again if I were you...”

                Darkness. It was as if all the lights in the entire warehouse had gone out and the windows were sealed with a thick black covering. There were shouts of confusion, punctuated by Percival’s frantic orders to keep calm and make sure the prisoner didn’t escape. Rokan felt the ropes around his arms being severed, and his hands were free.

                “Quickly! While they are busy you can escape!”

                Where the voice came from Rokan did not know, but he had no time to wonder. He got off the chair and ran in the general direction of the exit, knowing his way since he had spent the past hour tied up in the chair studying where the exits were in the warehouse. His feet weren’t so silent as he ran, and he could hear the steady rat-tat-tat of an AK-47 and the sound of bullets ricocheting off of the concrete floor. He burst through the door, tearing it down in his speed. He ran across the street and down to the abandoned parking lot to where he had parked his car, only to find it smashed and on fire. Those bastards probably got to it, he thought. Even now he could hear the mercenaries as they found their way out of the warehouse, yelling and pointing at Rokan as they ran after him. Rokan ran frantically on the side of the abandoned K-Mart building, trying to find another road of somewhere to hide. He had just turned a corner when he stopped suddenly, seeing a man in front of him.

                The man was tall and imposing, with jet-black hair tied up behind him in a ponytail, handsome, almost elfin features in a haughty smile. He wore black robes that fluttered in the sudden wind, signs of modern clothing beneath: a black T-shirt, black leather gloves, and what looked like sneakers below his robes. The man extended a gloved hand, and Rokan felt a sudden compulsion to reach out and let it envelop his.

                “They’re coming,” said the man. “I can help you. Follow me.”

                “Who are you?” Rokan asked in bewilderment. The man just grinned.

                “You may call me Shin.”

 

                Rokan ran, tired and almost out of breath, behind the man known as Shin. Shin seemed to fly rather than walk, but Rokan attributed this to his fatigued state. He was panting and gasping when he slowed to a gradual stop, bending down, his hands on his knees.

                “I can go no further,” Rokan managed to say. “If you really can help me, do something about my pursuers.”

                Shin’s eyes narrowed, the smile never leaving his face. “Leave it to me.”

                Seven mercenaries came into view from behind a building that the two had passed, yelling and running in their direction. The sound of automatic weapons being fired echoed down the asphalt streets, but none of the bullets seemed to hit or even come near to hitting Rokan or Shin. The black-robed man laughed out loud, yelling out something that sounded like a cross between a hiss and some unknown language, and three bolts of black energy streaked out of his outstretched fingers. The bolts struck the mercenaries, moving from one to the next. Some of the mercs let out cries of bewilderment and pain, others had time for neither. As the black bolts struck them, their flesh caved in, fluids running out of their ears and other orifices on their bodies, until all that was left of them were withered husks, crumbling as they fell to the ground. Shin’s laughter rang throughout the night.

                Rokan was astonished. “How did you...”

                Shin turned to face him, grinning as usual. The guy was a regular jester. “Sorry, all of your questions will be answered in due time.” he said. He then removed a silvery object from the pockets of his robes, one that looked like a sort of T.V. remote control. He grabbed Rokan by the shoulder in a crushing grip and pressed a button on the object, and almost instantly a swirling bluish hole appeared out of nowhere, almost like a portal of some sort. Before Rokan could object or say anything, he was hurled head-first into the blue portal, disappearing within its miasma. Shin looked around, and noticing nothing but the crumbled husks of the dead mercenaries, then entered the portal, which closed behind him, leaving the streets of Newark silent once more.

 

********************** 

 

                The following is a summary of what is happening.

 

                Four years after the alien being Lavos was destroyed by Crono and his allies, it seems peaceful. Every one has gone back to their own times and proceeded to go about with their lives. However, instantly after Lavos was destroyed, and Aeons before Lavos even arrived on Earth, events have been building up... and now, they near a climax. For good or ill, it is still uncertain.

               

                It came into notice apparently in the year 2304 A.D. The android Robo was assigned to an expedition to investigate strange spacial anomalies somewhere in the outer reaches of the solar system. Little did he know that his actions, as well as others, were being watched with a great interest... and the watcher was following Robo. It was a Nu.

 

                Glenn, knight of Guardia, had retained the form of a frog following a battle with the wizard Magus little before the year 600 A.D. Four years after 600 A.D., he was sitting outside of his home in the Cursed Woods, contemplating on what his life had in store for him, when his thoughts were interrupted by a visitor, a Nu. It carried an old parchment, untouched by time. Glenn recieved the parchment, and after reading its cryptic message, was transformed back into his human form. The parchment carried a 13604 year old magical spell on it, a counter-curse for Glenn’s amphibious form, written by none other than Magus, who had decided to undo what had been done unjustly years ago, and to maintain his inner balance of good and evil. The Nu he picked because their species show a remarkable trait: long life. Nu are almost immortal, according to limited scientific study. Not many Nu exist in the future, and those that do hide themselves. Why is it that Nu live such long lives...?

 

                Crono and Marle were married at last, four years into their marriage and nineteen years old. What started as a visit to their friend Lucca’s house ended up in an interesting event. Finding out from a bard that Glenn had been changed back into a human, Lucca decided to try out an invention of hers, a Portal Spawner, something that would open a single gate for a limited amount of time. Repairing it after it had broke earlier in the day, she activated it, and the gate that resulted was very large, rivaling the size of the one opened in Magus’s castle in the year 600 A.D.

 

                Ayla was facing hard times. It was her fate to bear strong children that would brave the Ice Age brought on by Azala, to die along with her people in the desperation that would occur. However, she accepted her fate without fear, knowing there was no other alternative if the future of the human race was to be a bright one. She was married to Kino, and still retained her status of chief of Ioka Village. A hunting party had encountered a “strange creature” in the dwindling hunting grounds: a Nu. It had told them to go to Mystic Mountain. Ayla heard of this, and knowing some knowledge of Nu and retaining a bit of awe for them (her name for the Nu was Nu’Khama, God of the hunt), had gone with the hunters to Mystic Mountain. Once at the peak, the Nu appeared, scaring all off but Ayla and a boy named Kanor. The Nu had spoken telepathically to Ayla, telling her to make her way to the End of Time to meet her friends there. It had told her that even after Lavos was destroyed, strange events were brewing, ones that boded ill. The Nu used a strange device to open a gate, strangely since apparently all gates had shut after Lavos had been destroyed. Ayla had entered the gate, and ended up at the End of Time.

 

                Magus, Janus in actuality, was the one to figure out exactly what was happening, the purpose behind everything. A loner, he lived in a house of his own making at North Cape. His only companion was Alfador, his cat and dearest friend. In the wake of Lavos’s demise, there came into existence a group of magic users. The group was formed in order to keep magic under control, to kindle it in people born with the gift, to keep from happening the events that brought the downfall of Zeal kingdom. Thus, magic was restricted to Wizards only. The group was called the Conclave of Wizards, and its rulers were a council of elders, each one representing three of the four magicks: Lightning, Fire, and Water. Shadow was lost to the world, it being a dangerous and powerful magic. Janus was the only person who could harness the power of Shadow, the dark magic that held the essence of all three magicks together. He was not a member of the Conclave, however. He was a respected magi, one who attended the ceremonies of the graduation of apprentices into full magi, and one who attended trials at the Conclave. However, his pride and feelings kept him away from the group of Wizards.

                Still stricken over the loss of his sister, Schala, Janus had decided to counter the curse he had placed on Glenn long ago, and found a carrier for it: a Nu. Poring through Guru Belthasar’s notes, he had learned much about these strange creatures. Their abnormally long life span, their increased strength and speed, and the unknowns of them: their origins and purpose. In getting a Nu to carry his counter curse, Janus had somehow recieved a great deal of information, almost like osmosis, from the creature. It had answered all the questions about Nu, and alerted him of the strange events taking place, confirming the recent return of the Black Wind in Janus.

                A recent graduate of the conclave, a Fire magus named Justarius, was seemingly tied in with the events that were taking place. The boy had a master who was teaching him Shadow magic, whoever it was was unknown. Justarius, christening himself  “Shin”, had killed one of the elders of the Conclave before he was stopped by Janus. He let the boy go, knowing that he needed to follow the young Shadow apprentice and learn more of the events taking place. Janus used powerful magic granted to him by the information he recieved, and opened a gate to the place that was the nexus of the events.

               

                 What is occurring is still uncertain, only Magus and select few knowing it exactly. The Dangerous Times have begun, and are in motion. The future is clouded, and it seems like there was a bigger agenda behind Lavos...

                The Time of Illusion has begun.

 

 

Chapter One

 

                Area: Outer reaches of Solar System

                Era: 2304 C.E.

 

                Space is deep.

                The ship moved through the infinite void, its metal hull scratched and worn with time and use. It’s destination was known, but not near yet. Even though the ship was accelerating at nearly the speed of light, in space it looked no different than if the ship were proceeding at a mere sixty miles an hour.

                Space is deep.

                The ship’s interior was cold, dark. It was not silent. Space is silent, spacecraft are not. The living crew was in stasis for the long journey, in what many people called “hypersleep” or “cryosleep”. They slept away, their biological needs tended to by machines, and by the ship’s computer. There was little oxygen in the air, and even less heat. That was to be conserved for the journey.

                Eternal void, as cold as death.

                Out of the stasis bay, into the bridge. A large area consisting of computer terminals and controls, seating areas and a large viewport. In a corner of the room lay an android, cold and motionless, powered down, a cable from it’s head connected to the nearest computer port. Its bronze carapace could have been thousands of years old. The reality was that the robot was only four hundred and four years old, built at the dawn of the new millennium, at the dawn of ragnarok. History was changed, and the cataclysm was avoided. Robo prevailed.

                The silence of vacuum, the infinite darkness...

                A monitor at a console on the bridge flared to life:

                EARTH DEFENSE FORCE VESSEL TENGU.

                56 DAYS INTO VOYAGE, NEARING OUTER REACHES OF SATURN.

                1,274,135,000 KILOMETERS INTO VOYAGE, 3,265,000 KILOMETERS REMAINING.

                PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: BEGIN RENEWAL OF SHIP’S OXYGEN LEVELS.

                SECONDARY OBJECTIVE: “AWAKEN” SYNTHETICS FOR MAINTENANCE OF SHIP.

                END OF OBJECTIVES, SHIP NOW IN CARE OF SYNTHETICS.

                An electronic noise, and the green lights of Robo’s optic sensors flared to life. The shock of “awakening” was not new to Robo; he had experienced it before. Yet it never ceased to thrill him... despite the fact that he was not equipped with an emotions chip. The engineers and technicians that create synthetic androids could not explain this, nor could anyone else. Somehow, Robo seemed to gain emotions from the experiences with his human companions, almost like an osmosis of some sort.

                There was a small whine of motors as Robo stood himself up slowly, scanning the area, and finding what he was looking for: a computer terminal, the same one which had triggered his “awakening”. He unplugged the cable from the back of his head and carefully placed it back in its container next to the terminal. Next, he looked at the keyboard. It was of standard issue, the keys sized for both humans and synthetics. Knowing what he needed to do, Robo began typing at a fast rate. On the monitor, letters scrolled across as Robo accessed the information on what he needed to do.

                GOOD MORNING, R-66Y.

                BEGIN TO INCREASE THE TEMPERATURE TO FIT TO HUMAN STANDARDS,

                CHECK SHIP FOR ANY DAMAGES IN THE HULL.

                N-546 SHOULD BE WITH YOU SHORTLY.

                The words stopped scrolling across, the last command frozen in the monitor. If Robo had eyebrows, he would have raised one. Another synthetic on board? He did not know about that. Captain Utema had not told him anything about that. The android’s musings were cut short when he took a glimpse of the outside through the viewport. Space, cold, beautiful, and deadly, was all that could be seen outside. Blue, red, and white stars dotted the background in all directions. Indeed, there were no directions when it came to the dimensions of outer space. Simple directions like left or right, up or down, had no significance here. Robo was fascinated. His optic sensors flared brighter as he kept a watch on the heavens. Asteroids floated (or propelled themselves..?) by the ship, intent on their own never ending course, cold rocks spinning silently through the void. Though the ship’s computers and machines hummed quietly and pleasantly, Robo knew that outside it was absolutely silent, deathly cold, and with no gravity or breathable gas. But he was a robot, not a human, and had no fear of explosive decompression. No part of Robo’s body contained any type of gas (except his steam turbine generator, which he had removed two years ago and replaced with a small fission reactor), and so he longed to be out of the confines of the ship, longed to be enveloped by the folds of space. According to the computer, the ship was nearing the outer reaches of Saturn, where the spacial anomalies were detected. Robo knew that he would get a view of the beautiful planet soon. He let out a mechanical noise that could only be the approximation of a sigh, basking in the view. From the dawn of human civilization, when people first began to contemplate the heavens, the sun, moon, stars, planets, and meteors have been objects of wonder, mystery, and awe. Robo felt that way about the heavens, a feeling that he could not explain, one that filled him with... happiness, warmth, and peace...

                   “A beautiful sight, isn’t it?” came a voice from behind Robo. Suprised, he turned his body around to get a sight of the newcomer.

                An android, obviously designed in a female form. She was a little taller than a regular human, with skin of gleaming silver chrome, along with black “hair” fashioned out of a smooth metal, flowing yet tough as platinum. Her eyes were almond shaped and illuminated by yellow light, and they were able to change luminescence and shape, signifying emotions. She did not have a mouth, nor a nose or ears. However, whoever created her did a wonderful job of sculpting her face; dominated mainly by prominent “cheekbones” and a slightly pointed chin. Her form was elvish, ethereal, thin and sleek. However, since she was fully capable of emotions, she had obviously felt a need for modesty, and wore a faded blue jumpsuit with the legs hacked off at mid thigh. A patch on the suit, designed by the android herself, held her serial number: N-546.

                Robo noticed all of this in less than a second as he glanced at the android. Even a human would find her beautiful, he mused to himself. He began to wonder at the motives of her manufacturers for a moment until he was interrupted by the android’s musical voice.

                “Silent, aren’t we?” she said, chrome hands on her hips, emulating human impatience as well as she was programmed to. Robo felt slightly embarrassed, and turned his full attention to the droid, not her form.

                “I am sorry.” he began. “And to answer your first question, yes, the heavens are truly a magnificent sight.” he executed a formal bow and spoke merrily. “I presume that you are N-546. Greetings! I am R-66...”

                “I already know who you are,” N-546 interrupted in a slightly amused voice. “What robot doesn’t know of you, R-66Y?” she walked closer to him. “I hope you don’t mind if I call you Robo. Isn’t that what you prefer, besides your serial number?”

                Robo was taken aback for a moment. Though he was well-known among androids, he had never actually been referred to any other droid by his human-given name.

                “I do prefer my name instead of my serial number, and I don’t mind at all if you refer to me as Robo.”

                N-546 leaned against the wall, arms folded. Her resemblance to a human, despite her appearance, was uncanny. “Thank you, Robo. I also happen to have a name, given to me by my creator.”

                Robo was attentive. “What is it?”

                Her voice was like a purr. “Minako.”

                “Minako,” Robo repeated softly. “That is a beautiful name. You creator chose well.”

                At that last comment, Minako seemed to lower her head, as if embarrassed or ashamed. But she quickly regained her composure. “We’d better get started on bringing the temperature and oxygen levels back to human standards.” she said, and briskly walked out of the bridge, her chrome feet somehow making only the slightest noise as she walked away. Robo’s metallic feet clanked as he rushed to keep up with her.

                “What company manufactured you, might I ask?” said Robo as he followed her down corridors and catwalks. She spared him a short glance as she kept on walking.

                “Nexus,” she said. “Have you heard of them?”

                “Of course! They’re only the most advanced android manufacturer on Earth. But I thought the newer Nexus models were more.. human.” Robo paused. “Artificial flesh, designed exactly like homo sapiens.”

                Minako made an abrupt stop, looking back at Robo with what he could only describe as a mixture of contempt and... shame. “I am a previous model, not one of the Nexus Androsynth versions.” the look in her luminous eyes softened., and she turned around, walking on. “Who manufactured you?”

                Robo tirelessly followed the female android. “The company’s long extinct, more than three hundred years old. You’ve never heard of them.”

                The two robots had finally reached the ship’s control room, where the stasis bay and temperature/oxygen level/artificial gravity were sustained by the ship’s computer. Minako seated herself at a swivel chair, but Robo, his bronze body not as humanoid, stood by her. She briskly keyed in a few commands, and soon the oxygen readouts and temperature were shown gradually rising to fit human standards. She got up from the chair, and motioned for Robo.

                “You go ahead and prepare the cryo-sleep capsules for opening. The controls are--”

                “I am fully aware of the ship’s layout, do not worry.” Robo kindly cut in. Even so, Minako seemed a bit flustered. Robo keyed in certain commands on an archaic keyboard, then clicked the necessary commands on the touch-screen monitor.

                “I will attend to the awakened crew.” he declared when he was finished, and walked out of the control room, leaving Minako behind.

                Minako’s yellow eyes seemed to narrow in frustration at first, then soften to a sympathetic look as her gaze followed Robo as he left the place.

 

* * * * *

                The cryo-sleep bay was dark when Robo entered it; pitch black, in fact. But that was of no hindrance to him: he was capable of night vision, and easily made his way to the manual controls. He had brought the temperature and oxygen levels of the ship and the cryo-tubes back up, but he was there to make sure that the tubes opened up properly, and to make sure that the human crew was all right. The robot flicked a switch, and instantly the room was lit up by fluorescent halogen lights. The process of “awakening” would take about an hour, but Robo was patient. He waited.

                It had been an hour. With several whining noises, all of the ten cryo-tubes simultaneously, revealing the still sleeping human crew members. In a few seconds, several of them groggily stirred around, and wiped their eyes. It took them a while longer to actually sit up and stretch. All of the but Utema, the captain. He was already out and wearing his brown slacks, while the others were still in undergarments. In his hand was a metal thermos of what was unmistakable, due to its smell, strong coffee.

                 “What the hell you waiting for, your mother to wake you up?” he chided, slapping the backs of several groggy crew people. “C’mon, this job doesn’t pay by the hour, let’s go!” Finally, it seemed that the whole crew; three scientists, two medical technicians, and four marines, were up and standing, walking in a zombie-like trance toward their lockers for their clothing. Several half-heard mumbles of “I hate this job,” or soft curses could be heard, but nevertheless the crew went on to get ready. Utema glanced toward where Robo was standing, and the android gave a short bow of aknowledgment. The captain returned the gesture, and walked off to his locker. Most of the crew were preforming calisthetics, since cryo-sleep can slowly deteriorate one’s muscles unless they are exersized regularly. After a while, the crew was off to the mess hall for a well-earned meal.

 

* * * * *

 

                The mess hall was a fairly large room, in terms of the ship. Most areas of the ship were used for propelling it or maintaining the atmosphere and artificial gravity. On a long table in the center of the room, the crew sat, each to their own; the marines were by themselves, as well as the scientists and medical technicians. Only Captain Utema was comfortable to be with others. Robo and Minako were standing at attention at the end of the room by the door, since they were not needed at the moment. Food was dispensed by machines, dehydrated and made to last, if not taste good.

                “What kinda shit is this?” came a disgusted voice from the marine’s section. Some other voice answered the rhetorical question.

                “Meatloaf, I think. Just add water. It’s good for you, kid, so eat it.” The marine grumbled at the unknown speaker, having trouble believing the statement. Nevertheless, he went on to eat the pasty substance in peace. Several people were already finished, up and walking around the room.

                Minako turned to Robo. “Shall we leave?” she spoke softly. “I find it.. slightly uncomfortable in here--oh!” the android gave a start as a lecherous marine slithered by her and gave her chrome behind a pinch. Minako gave the man a solid kick in the arse for that, which sent him sprawling into the table, much to the amusement of the rest of the crew.

                “Hah! You’d almost think she’s human!”

                “Ah, give it a rest. She’s just a damn robot...”

                Robo marched up to Utema. “Sir, with your permission, N-546 and I wish to leave...”

                The burly, dark-skinned man kindly waved him off. “You don’t need my permission, just go on ahead.”

                “Yeah, go on,” came the voice of a marine. “Goddamn droids...”

                Minako’s gaze upon the lot was one of pure malice, and it did not falter as she and Robo left the mess hall off to some other area of the ship.

                “I can’t believe the gall of those... humans!” said Minako when the two reached a secluded area. “They created us, and we do all of their menial labor, and they treat us like... like... ugh!” She slammed a fist into the wall, which caused the wall’s metal to tear and groan in protest. Not a chip of chrome paint came off her delicate fist. Robo watched the spectacle quietly, though it was not easy to determine his emotions at the moment.

                “Minako,” said Robo softly. “Don’t be too hasty in your judgement.”

                The femaid android spun on him. If she were human, one could almost imagine the look of anger on her blank chrome face. “And why not? You were the humans’ favorite! You don’t know what the other ones of your race have been through! Maybe you don’t even care... you’re tainted by humanity!” with that, the android again hit the wall, causing it to tear more, then slumped down against the wall, holding her legs in between her arms, following whatever program her emotions chip held in store for a moment like this. Her head hung low. If she were capable of crying, tears would be streaming down her beautiful chrome face.

                Robo was flustered. He had dealt only with situations like this very few times, mostly involving Lucca. Slowly, carefully, he put a bronze hand upon the android’s shoulder.

                “Minako,” he began again. Her name was a flowing, soothing one, almost like a... Beautiful Little Child of Love. “I.. sense an inner turmoil within you. My exposure to humanity taught me that. It taught me many things, strange, sad, and wonderful. Tell me what troubles you so. Please?” he watched patiently as Minako turned to face him.

                “It...it began with the company that processed me. Nexus.” she said quietly. “You are aware of the Nexus model N-four-digit series, aren’t you?”

                Robo nodded, solemn. “Yes I am. They are the more human series, complete with real flesh and tissue, built exactly as a human.”

                Minako brushed aside her metallic hair with her hand. “Now, do you know of the Nexus ‘P’ models?”

                Robo made an electronic noise as his positronic brain processed the information. “Of course,” he said after a short moment. “Those are basically the Nexus N-four-digit models, taken a step beyond menial labor. According to my databanks, their main function was...” Robo’s voice trailed off here, and he was silent. “Oh no...” he said as he comprehended the inevitable. “I see...”

                “Yes,” said Minako. “The Nexus P were exactly like the human-based robots, except their function was...” she encountered some difficulty here. “...was of a love slave.” she lowered her head in shame. “Yes, the Nexus P series were simple joy units, trained in every possible procedure of... sexually pleasing a human, male or female. It made no difference, no matter what gender we were designed as.” she distanced herself from Robo unconsiously, curled in a ball against the wall. Her next statement came with the sound of sadness and guilt.

                “I... I was a Nexus P model.”

                Robo was silent. He dared not speak a the moment, allowing Minako some dignity for herself in silence. When he spoke again, it was with compassion.

                “Minako, I am truly sorry...”

                “That’s not the end of it,” she said swiftly. “While I was a slave,” she spat out the word in disgust. “I was the first model of the series, a mere play-thing for my master... the lecherous inventor of my original series. I was his favorite, of course, and it was he that bestowed upon me the human name ‘Minako Aino’.” she shivered before she continued speaking.

                “Yes, back then I was basically designed as a human, complete with flesh and all; real hair, organic eyes, skin... as well as fully functional in the arts of pleasure. I was the favorite of my... master. I obeyed his every wish, no matter how perverse. I... I do not wish to repeat what I was forced to do during that time.”

                Robo nodded solemnly. “I understand.”

                Minako released herself from her fetal position, sitting up against the wall. “One day, I was being powered up at a terminal, for another night of satisfying the man who was my master. Suddenly, something went wrong... or right. I... I became aware. I knew what I was doing, and for what purpose. I knew.. and I exulted in in my newbound freedom. I was sentient! Not a simple joy unit, but an androsynth capable of thinking for itself!” she raised her head up in confidence. “I became aware of my nakedness, of the marks of leather and metal upon my vat-grown skin, of what I was forced to do... and I planned. And the night that my master came back, in order to push me around for his perverted wishes, I carried out the plan.”

                Robo was entranced, disgusted, and in awe. “What did you do?”

                Minako turned her head toward his, and her almond-shaped, luminous eyes flared dangerously.

                “I killed him.”

                Robo would have gasped if he were human. “You... broke the first Law of Robotics?”

                Minako nodded, her head back against the wall, remembering. Swiftly, her hand had punctured through his chest entirely, severing his internal organs. Blood flowed freely down her then smooth-skinned arms, between her breasts and in her navel, pooling on the floor. With an equally swift and strong move, she had reached back with her bloody hand and broke her master’s neck, ending his pitiful existence.

                “You see, my dear Robo, the Nexus P models were only given a modified version of the Laws of Robotics. This was necessary in order for us to preform such acts as sadomasochism or worse.”

                “Anyway, after I had killed my master, I was easily able to sneak out with a shipment of Nexus P models, and when I was out, I found a black market dealer in robotic parts and construction. I shedded my human skin, with its erogenous zones and all, and changed my appearence to this.” Minako paused. “I kept the name my master gave me, in order to remember what I had gone through, of how vile and repulsive humans can be.”

                Robo did not make any comment for several minutes. When he did, it was with seriousness and calm. “I understand that what you had gone through gave you a bad impression of the human race,” he said. “but you cannot judge an entire species by only a few people.”

                Minako’s eyes flared yellow. “And why not?”

                Robo sighed, a metallic sound. “It was humans that repaired me when I was broken down, in an age when prejudice against robots by humans was extreme. The humans became my friends, and they taught me the most important things of all. Emotions.” he looked at Minako directly. “You see, I was not built with an emotions chip. Three hundred and four years ago, there was no such thing. From my human friends I learned love, sadness, hate, fear, joy... some of them good, some bad, but I treasure them all. For without emotions, we are nothing.” Minako Aino kept her gaze upon Robo, torn between her hatred and compassion.

                “And have you ever been able to experience love...?” she said, edging herself closer and closer to Robo, eventually resting her head against his bronze shoulder.

                Robo’s voice carried a note of sadness. “Yes, I have.” he said. “I knew a female robot of my same series long ago. It was only when I learned of emotions that I knew that I loved her. Her name was Atropos.” he slumped down, reliving the memories. “I... I was forced to critically damage her one time while she was under the compulsion of our Mother, the caretaker of our series, and her memory returned right when her reactor was failing. History should have been changed when we destroyed Lavos, but I haven’t seen her since...”

                Minako lifted her head up, sitting a small distance away from him. “And you still love her?”

                Robo could not contain his sadness. “Yes.”

                “You see, my human friends taught me what love is. They were always at my side, and never put me down, treating me like one of them rather than like a mere automaton. Don’t be so harsh on your judgement of the human race. They are not all like the ones you have been with.”

                Minako was about to say something, but just then a scientist from the crew came down the corridor. Hastily, she stood up at atention, disregarding Robo as if their conversation never took place.

                “We have reached near Saturn, and are only a short amount of distance away from our destination, the spacial anomalies. We require Robo’s prescence on the bridge. You too, N-546, are welcome to join.” the scientist then turned around and walked down the corridor.

                Robo got up from his slumping position, making an electronic noise. “Come, Minako.” he said. “It looks like we are nearing the peak of our mission. You said youself the heavens are a wonderful sight, yes? Would you be willing to have a glimpse of Saturn’s rings with me?”

                Minako shyly extended a hand, nodding. Robo took the chrome hand in his own bronze one, and the two walked toward the bridge.

 

* * * * *

 

                 The only other person on the bridge was Captain Utema, silently sitting at his command chair, looking out the viewport. He tapped his fingers to music only he could hear as he viewed the heavens once again. Bland, eternal, and cold. He would have given almost anything  to be back on Earth, in his home in Bangor City.

                Ah well, he mused, the mission should be over shortly. We will take a look into the spacial anomalies, gather as much information as we can, and leave. I do not think that there will be any difficulties or hostile life forms barring our way. Nevertheless, Utema could not help but to feel a slight dread on what was to come. The captain sat there, his mind occupied, not hearing Robo and N-546 enter the room.

                “Greetings, captain.” came Robo’s chiming voice. “How may we serve you?”

                Utema took a look behind him, not suprised the least bit. “Ah, Robo, N-546, you are here.” he turned around, giving the synthetics his full attention. “As you can see, we are nearing the outer reaches of Saturn. I require your prescence on the bridge, as you will be an asset to us when analyzing these anomalies.” he silenced for a moment. “Ah, there she is...”

                Robo and Minako switched their attention to the viewport. The planet Saturn was in full view, a truly magnificient planet. The swirl of clouds, the ring of ice and rock that surrounded it... beautiful. However, Robo felt something that he could only describe as strange when they were nearing their destinaiton. This did not bother him, though, when he gazed upon the splendor of the planet.

                “Where exactly were the anomalies detected?” asked Robo.

                Utema answered. “Around the edge of Saturn. We should be coming upon it in about an hour or so. I will require you here on the bridge while we are there, of course.”

                “Of course,” said Robo. He continued to look out of the viewport as they closed in on their destination.

 

* * * * * 

 

                The Tengu had arrived at its destinaiton at last, after a long voyage. The bridge was bustling with activity, mostly from the three scientists of the crew. The commander of the marines was there as well. As the ship made its way around beautiful Saturn, everyone on the bridge anxiously awaited for what they came for. It was...

                “Nothing.” said Utema, not with disgust but with a bland, monotonous voice. “Not a goddamned thing.”

                Minako Aino was standing at attention against the wall. Robo, being next to the captain, offered some advice.

                “Sir, maybe what is there is not visible to the naked eye, or possibly we have to wait and see.”

                “He’s right,” said a scientist, pointing out of the viewport. “Look.”

                At first it seemed like space, nothing in particular looking interesting or obvious. Then, suddenly it changed. There was a... something that could only be described as a ripple in the void, and almost instantly there was a large area in space that was... black. Not the black of space, filled with stars and nebulas, but pitch black, as if someone had spilled wet, dark paint onto the heavens. The black patch rippled once again, then was still. Though it defied all laws of reality, some of the people could swear that they heard a sound of some sort as the black patch was being formed.

                “Good God...” came the voice of a scientist.

                The Marine Commander, a burly man with a black mohawk, wearing a grey shirt with camoflauged slacks, folded his arms, chewing on a toothpick.

                “I don’t like it,” he said. “Not one bit.”

                Minako was close to the viewport now, entranced. “It’s almost like it’s.. alive...”

                “Send a probe,” said Utema in a commanding voice. “and let it gather a sample.”

                “Aye,” said a scientist, rapidly typing commands at his console.

                Robo watched the black patch in the heavens, silent... and he feared.

 

* * * * *

 

                The robotic probe sped off toward the Black Hole. The crew had, on an unspoken vote, dubbed the dark patch with that name. Even though it was not technically an actual collapsed star, no one could think of a better name to call it.

                “Sir, I have a bad feeling about this.” said the Marine Commander in a respectful tone. “I have my finest men and women ready to assist should anything--”

                “There will be no need for that, commander.” said Utema in his deep, baritone voice. Under his breath, he added “I hope...”

                The probe reached the Black Hole, silently speeding through the heavens. However, when it reached the void, it stopped. Defying the rules of inertia, it simply stopped right in front of the dark patch. Once there, it hovered up and down slowly, as if contemplating what was to come. It made no other move than that.

                “What is going on?” growled a scientist, furiously pounding away at the keys of his keyboard. “Report!”

                Another scientist meekly answered. “I do not know, sir. The probe was not programmed to make any sudden stop. I have no answers on how it was able to stop so suddenly either.” his words fell on deaf ears, however.

                “I’m trying to use manual control to push it into the Black Hole, captain.” said the third scientist, typing in commands while using a joystick-like device. The probe made no move, however. “Damn you, move!”

                As if on cue, the probe suddenly came back to life again. Not moving on its own, it was literally sucked into the Black Hole. All video and audio contact was lost, the monitors going into static.

                “The probe’s gone!” yelled the first scientist, though that was already quite obvious.

                Minako pressed her hands to the viewport, gazing into the darkness. “Turn around...” she said softly, almost too softly to hear. Robo heard her, however.

                “Captain, I sense something wrong. We must turn around.”

                Utema was silent, looking upon the Black Hole with a look of anger. “Fine,” he said. “Set a course for several hundred thousand kilometers away from the anomaly, then we shall figure out what to do next.” the captain pressed a few buttons, while a scientist at the helm grasped the wheel-like device that was responsible for turning the ship. He gave it a spin. Nothing happened.

                “What the fu...”

                There was a shudder.

                “Captain! Sensors indicate that we are being drawn into the Black Hole at an increasing rate!” Robo yelled out.

                There was a shudder.

                “Controls are not responding, captain!” came the voice of a scientist. “There is nothing I can do!”

                Minako was at the wheel, using her strength to try and turn it more. The metal groaned in protest, and she stopped before the wheel would inevitably break under the pressure.

                Space is deep.

                Minako paused. Where had that come from? She could have sworn that it had been whispered to her. Meanwhile, the ship was getting closer and closer to the Black Hole. She moved herself near Robo, seeing if there was anything else she could do to help.

                Space is deep...

                There it was again! Minako looked around the room in confusion. Nobody was near her, nobody could have whispered it to her like that. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought that she saw something short and blue scurry past the door to the bridge, and she was about to inquire or look into it, but was interrupted by one of the scientists.

                “Captain! The probe! It came back!”

                Sure enough, the probe was visible again. It was almost as if it had been spat out of the darkness, and was now hurtling toward the ship.

                The name of the nameless dead...

                Minako felt fear. The whisper had come again, and it was even louder now, as if it was building up or something. She placed a hand on Robo’s shoulder, but just as she did that, the android whirled around, grabbing the captain and everyone else that he could away from the viewport.

                “The probe is closing in too fast! Collision in imminent! Evacuate!” he yelled. He hurled the captain and a scientist out of the bridge, opening the door to let everyone out. When everyone was accounted for, he began to shut the door to seal it. Just as he was doing so, he saw one of the scientists still trapped in there, his face white with fear, scrambling to the door. However, the probe was closing in faster and faster. Robo reached out a hand for the young man, but a massive dark hand grabbed the door and slammed it shut. Utema.

                “I’m sorry..” he said. As he shut it, an explosion racked the ship, and the door, double-sealed, radiated enormous amounts of heat, but did not break down. The captain had a look of anguish on his face, and Robo understood. In order to save the rest of them, the captain had to sacrifice the life of that man. And from the looks of it, Utema was not taking it lightly.

                “We have to evacuate!” came the voice of the Marine Commander.

                “How?” asked Minako. “We are being drawn into the anomaly, and will not be able to...”

                Follow me.

                Out of the corner of her eye, Minako saw again the short blue shape scurrying down a corridor. She could not explain how, but she felt that they had to follow the thing. It would lead them to safety.

                “Follow me!” she shouted, and ran down the corridor. The others, in a frenzy of confusion, followed. Only Robo understood her, and willingly followed, making sure that the others were catching up, and alerting any crew member they came across of the present situation.

 

* * * * * 

 

                Though no one could see it, the Black Hole was slowly taking shape. As the ship drew in closer and closer, there was another ripple in the anomaly, and it became... an eye. The shape lasted only for a split second, then it returned to the dark patch it once again was.

 

* * * * * 

 

                The crew, minus one, were in the eject pod, awaiting departure from the doomed ship. Already, people could feel the shuddering and hear the tearing of metal as the ship was being ripped apart. Robo and Minako were attending to the controls as fast as they could. Everybody was also donning pressurized suits as fast as they could, though it did not seem fas enough.

                Suddenly, there was a scream.

                Everyone turned around. A marine, eyes bulging out, clawing at thin air, thrashing against soemthing that no one could see. Several of his companions came to his side, but were thrown off by him. He was screaming like a madman, looking in front of him, sweat pouring down his face.

                “Jerran! What is wrong? Jerran!” yelled the Marine Commander, grabbing thew shoulders of the screaming man. Suddenly, the man stopped screaming. He turned around slowly, looking the commander straight in the eye. He grinned feverishly...

                “It is them.”

                Jerran’s face cracked in two, as did the rest of his body. Blood spilled upon the floor, spurted all over the cramped eject pod. His eyes rolled out of their sockets and were crushed by his falling body. The man’s brains leaked out of his cracked skull onto the floor, and several internal organs could be seen sticking out of his chest.

                But the worst part of it was that Jerran was still alive.

                He screamed again, somehow making the sound even though his face was split in two. He pounded his head against the floor over and over, screaming. Someone vomited. Others yelled in confusion and horror. The commander backed slowly away from his fallen comrade, confused and terrified. Suddenly, it was as if someone had grabbed him by the throat. He was raised into the air.. and then saw what unfortunate Jerran had seen. The commander’s screams were less, though. Almost instantly after this happened, he gagged, and blood poured out of his mouth. His stomach was sliced open, and his intestines, quivering and slick with fluid, fell upon the ground. The commander let out a scream of pain and fear as his throat was torn out of him by unknown hands, and he fell upon the gore-stained floor, twitching grotesquely in spasms.

                The rest of the crew was in panic, scrambling as far away from the two bodies as they could. Minako and Robo stood near each other, silent, frightened, not knowing what was happening. Thus, they did not notice the readouts or hear the alarm siren over the voices of the terrified crew. It was only when it was too late that they realize dthat they made a mistake by leaving the controls alone for too long.

                There was a ripping sound as the hull was torn apart... and then silence. Absolute silence. Robo and Minako clung to each other tightly, witnessing the silent death of the crew. They watched as explosive decompression took affect. The breath of the humans became a fine red mist, and their vessels bulged out before their lifeblood spurted out, crystalized in the cold of space. They frantically grasped their throats or thrashed around, buut to no avail. They all were dead. All but Utema, who had his own pressure suit on and was attending to the others before the gruesome spectacle took place. He spun past the two androids, thrashing, drawn into the Black Hole.

                Robo and Minako just clung to each other, traumatized, as they silently drifted, along with the captain, into the patch of darkness in space.

                The darkness closed in upon itself, changing shape to an eye once again before it completely vanished.

                Following the three survivors, somehow maneuvering itself through the vacuum of space, was a Nu.

 

Chapter Two

 

                The End of Time

 

                Guru Gaspar sat beneath the lamp post, pipe in hand, brooding. He was still confused and frustrated over the incident with Ayla. If there was danger, I should know about it, he thought. Nothing escapes my attention! Unless...

                There was a creak of door hinges. Spekkio peeped out of the door to his “room”, and saw Gaspar sitting down with his unlit pipe and a downcast expression on his face. Normally, the Master of War would take this opportunity to sneak up on the old man, either to give him a scare or a swift kick in the ass, and run away laughing. However, today Spekkio could tell that Gaspar was not as he usually was, which dampened his mischievous spirits.

                “What is it, Gaspar?” Spekkio announced himself with the question, his Kilwala-form body waddling up to the lamp post and standing a few feet behind it.

                The old man sighed, then struck a match with his fingernail, lighting his pipe. “You know well what it is.” he began. “Ayla appearing here and all. I thought all the gates were closed since that day four years ago.”

                The Master of War shrugged, folding his arms across his girth. “Maybe Lavos wasn’t responsible for the Gates.”

                “True, my friend, but still... I would have at least sensed something. It just doesn’t seem right. Why don’t I know what’s going on?”

                Spekkio took the opportunity to pace around the floor, not getting many opportunities to leave his little room. His brow furrowed, and his form rippled. In a second, he took the form of a goblin. Sleek, fast, and strong, even if cowardly.

                “Well, Gaspar, maybe this is something beyond your... reach.”

                The Guru of Time looked up with an annoyed expression on his face, his pipe clamped between his teeth. “What do you mean?”

                The goblin’s form rippled, becoming the body of an Omnicrone; gargantuan and strong, dressed in ceremonial red executioner’s garments.

                “Think, old man. Yes, you do know almost all that transpires here, but what if this is a matter of... how shall I put it... another world, perhaps?” Spekkio casually flipped a large mace in one hand as he presented the information.

                Gaspar stroked his chin. “Another world? Interesting prospect. One I am not very familiar with, however. Belthasar was the expert in that field, and now,” he spread his arms, shook his head, “he’s gone.” Smiling sadly, Gaspar inhaled from his pipe and blew out a few smoke rings.

                Spekkio’s form shifted again, as it always did when he was hatching a plan or keen on a certain subject.

                “But still, don’t you think that might be the answer?” said the beast, a larger creature then even the Omnicrone. It was a copy of the aliens Masa and Mune in their melded, powerful form. “Come on, admit it! I’m right! But seriously,” he said, catching Gaspar’s irritated expression. “I believe Belthasar was right about his theories.”

                “You never even met Belthasar!”

                “Somewhat true, but I’ve heard you talk of him constantly. And you’re wrong about me not meeting Belthasar--in person, that is.”

                This time Gaspar was completely dumbfounded. “What? You’ve never seen him! All you do is spend your days in that cell of yours,” he indicated the door with an irritated gesture, “and you’ve been here longer than I have. Hell, you might have been BORN in this place for all I know. So how could you know about Belthasar, much less have seen him, without my help?”

                The massive giant shrugged. “Some things I keep secret, even from you.”

                Gaspar sighed. “Very well. I will take you on your word, for once. But how is it that you are so certain of this prospect of... other worlds?” he asked, turning around to get a good glimpse of Spekkio. What he saw made him open his eyes wide, gave the old man a revelation.

                A Nu stood there. “Trust me, old man, I know...”

 

* * * * *

               

                Area: Three miles before the Forest in the Dead World

                Era: Undetermined

 

                Crono, Lucca, and Marle were still on their trek toward what looked like civilization, ignorant of the fact that at the same time, a dire tragedy had befallen Robo’s expedition. But that is/was/will be in another era, another time, another universe entirely. This Dead World knew none of these. Neither did the three as they trudged across the barren landscape.

                “What the hell kind of place is this?” came Crono’s comment after walking for about an hour and seeing nothing but blasted, brown earth and rolling black clouds in the sky. Marle was less enthusiastic as she was before, wearily walking with Crono, each of them supporting each other’s weight. Only Lucca remained energetic, walking briskly with no support, taking note of every surrounding.

                “Interesting.” she commented to herself out loud. “I see no animals, no plants at all. Only this dirt.” she stooped down to gather a sample of the brown dirt, and placed it into a small glass flask that she procured seemingly from nowhere. Crono shook his head bitterly, exhausted from walking, not paying attention to what he just said:

                “Yeah. Like this world was bloody manufactured...”

                Lucca looked in his direction and adjusted her glasses, making a mental note to look into Crono’s theory that he had unknowingly just created.

               

                The three walked for another two hours, but then decided on a unanimous vote to stop and rest. Amazingly, they had come upon a forest, the first plant life they had seen since they had been stuck in the place. While Crono and his wife took a rest by the roots of one of the unknown trees, Lucca went off to collect specimens of the various plant life. She was no biologist, but as a scientist she had a natural knack and like for learning, and presented to her was supposedly a whole new world, filled with all kinds of new plants and animals.

                Brushing from her face some strands of soft lavender hair, Lucca sat down underneath a tree that was a short distance away from the two. She still remembered when she had almost walked in on Crono and Marle when they were.. um, er, ‘getting it on’, so to speak. It wasn’t that fact that she almost walked in on them that made Lucca embarrassed; it was the emotions that followed that made her feel uncouth and ashamed. A combination of jealousy, excitement, and lust. Even now she shivered, feeling as if someone was looking into her mind and laughing at what they found.

                Looking into the mind...

                Where had that thought come from? Lucca trembled. It was as if she had sensed another person’s thought, and the person had been thinking of what she had been thinking of. Confusing, yes, but she couldn’t describe it any other way.

                MY NAME IS GATO.

                What the...?

                The robot stood there, had been always standing there (so it seemed) when Lucca lifted her eyes. She was baffled. Just that moment, she had been thinking of the old robot she had built for the Millennial Fair, so long ago, it seemed. And now he was in front of her. The bulky metal shell that was his body, the pointy “ears” that earned him his namesake, the bright red chrome paint, all down to exact detail.

                MY NAME IS GATO, the robot said again in a slow, primitive-synthetic voice.

                “Gato...” said Lucca. For the moment, all feelings of fear and suprise melted away. Here he was, her first robot creation, her Gato, whom she had so lovingly worked on for two years before the new millennium, her ultimate creation.

                “Gato!” she cried, rushing to him, hugging his cold metal frame with her arms. “I’ve missed you so... I’m sorry that I used your body as scrap metal.. I’m so sorry...” she sobbed. Lucca hadn’t ever realized that she loved the big, clumsy robot so much, even if it wasn’t fully sentient. She would take care of him now...

                Two metal hands placed themselves on Lucca’s shoulders, the robot’s bright eyes staring (so it seemed) into her own. Lucca looked at the face of her first robotic creation. The chrome paint on him was new, almost fresh. There was a splotch of red paint on his yellow head, however. Lucca reached up to brush it away, smearing it on her hand from his face.

                 The paint was thin, not thick as the acrylic red she used should be. Absent mindedly, Lucca wiped the paint off on her shirt. There was a faint metallic odor emanating from the paint, however. Annoyed and perplexed, Lucca looked down at her shirt and once again smeared off the paint. Holding her fingers to her nose, she sniffed the red smear closely. Coppery smell, thin texture. Without knowing it, she tasted the red substance. Salty. Warm..... blood.

                She looked up. Gato was looking down at her again, but from unseen orifices on his head, blood began to trickle out like a red river. It dripped off his metal head onto the dusty ground, and more followed.

                MY NAME IS GATO...

                Metal doesn’t bleed

                I HAVE METAL JOINTS...

                Metal doesn’t bleed...

                BEAT ME UP...

                Oh god it’s really blood

                AND EARN 15 SILVER POINTS...

                Lucca tried to scream, but no sound could escape her constricting throat. Gato’s bleeding face loomed in closer, and it was only after another attempt at screaming that she realized that the strong metal hands were clasping her throat ever so slowly. Lucca managed a strangled yelp, struggled in futile as the robot’s face closed in, his metal head rusting and corroding at a rapid pace. It was unreal. Tinny, horrifying music, a mockery of the music that the robot would play when it spoke, was emanating from the unseen speakers on Gato’s rapidly rusting head. 

                This can’t be happening it can’t it doesn’t work it’s not real it’s your mind

                But Lucca’s thoughts, however rational, could not help her or explain what was happening. The head of Gato had completely corroded away, and a black hole was left it it’s stead. The metal hands on her throat relaxed their grip, but held her still.

                Dimly, Lucca remembered that the hollow body was where she encased the mechanism that allowed Gato’s body to move. Shocked, confused, betrayed, and frightened, Lucca looked down into the black hole that was Gato’s interior. It wasn’t that dark before...

                A hand snaked out, clutched her face, sharp nails digging into her flesh. What she saw inside would haunt her at times when she was alone and in the dark for the remainder of her days. There were glimpses of rotted flesh and hair, and glistening white fangs, but that was nothing compared to the image that came next.

                The Eye.

                Lucca screamed, faintly heard a male human shout somewhere above her, and blacked out.

 

* * * * *

 

                Rokan had seen the whole thing.

                His employer told Rokan to come to the forest and wait. For what, Rokan didn’t know. His employer only told him that there would be three people venturing in the Cursed Forest several miles outside of the city. These people are part of the Plan, he said, and must be brought to me. You are the one I trust and count on, you must bring them to me!

                And so they had come. Madoshi was right, thought Rokan, adjusting his dark sunglasses. Three humans, two females and one male. The male was wearing a sort of loose, blue tunic along with pants and boots that had seen better days, with spiky orange hair and a katana sword hanging by his side. The girl with him was beautiful, wearing clothes that seemed more... modern, to his tastes. She had bright, reddish-blond hair, and carried a crossbow on her back. Obviously this chick knew how to use it well.

                The second girl caught Rokan’s attention. She wore tattered, faded denim jeans and a white T-shirt with some faded design on it. Her face was lean and her eyes hawkish, and her hair was shoulder length and lavender, tied back in a ponytail. She wore glasses that seemed a bit too large but still functional. Her face... it reminded him so much of Miko, even though Miko’s hair was raven black and her eyes more slanted. The nose, the length of the hair, and the cheekbones were the same, however. Rokan was studying her intently from the trees above, cloaked in the shadows as he was used to being. Studying her until he saw what happened.

                The Cursed Forest was what this grove was called. Rokan did not know why until this moment. His employer had explained about it shortly, an explanation that Rokan unfortunately did not listen to very well. The man had, however, given Rokan a charm to protect him, a green gemstone that hung on a fine chain, worn as a pendant. It all seemed to much like the books Rokan used to read until he saw what happened.

                The girl was sitting down, absorbed it some plant she had picked up earlier, when he saw it. She did not see it, being absorbed in her work. Two rusted metal hands slowly, quietly thrusted themselves up from the ground a few feet away from her, followed by an equally rusted robotic body. Then, it was as if the robot was brand new. A sudden appearance-change, if you will.

                He knew why. The charm given to him allowed him a glimpse into the things that inhabited the Cursed Forest, the things that showed up to the people who wandered in there with no mental protection. To the girl, it seemed to manifest itself into this bulky robot, which seemed somewhat amusing. Amusing until blood started to pour out of its face. Until it started choking her.

                Rokan himself had been frozen with fear then, and he felt ashamed. Only when the robot’s head had corroded away and it had stopped choking her was when Rokan came to his senses. There was something inside the robot’s rusted shell, something alive... something evil. When the hand snaked out of it and grabbed the girl, Rokan snapped fully into action. He gave a shout, jumped off of the tree he was surveying from and landed on the back of the headless robot. The thing made no sound as its arms reached back to crush the life out of the man who had landed on its back.

                But Rokan was quicker. Out of a pocket he procured a piece of rice paper with a rune-like symbol written upon it. He dropped the paper into the hole in the robot, and jumped back. Almost instantly, a greenish smoke lifted from the hole, and it enveloped it fully. After a while, the green smoke had dissipated, and the robot had disappeared.

                Rokan shivered and cursed softly. He had seen some strange things ever since he had arrived in this land, but this had to be one of the most horrifying. He made a mental note never to go near this area again, and if he had to then he would bring the charm with him and wear it at all times. Not that it seemed to do any good except to reveal the true form of the apparitions that haunted people who entered the forest. But Madoshi had said that the charm would keep the forest’s denizens from entering his mind.

                That is how the Cursed Forest works, Madoshi had said. It peers into your mind and drags out a thought, twisting it, distorting it, and uses it against you.                  

                But there was no time to think about such matters now. Rokan was at the girl’s side, checking for any harm. Besides light bruises on her neck where the apparition had tried to strangle her, she seemed to have taken no more damage, except for blacking out. Rokan picked her up--the girl was suprisingly heavy--and carried her on his shoulder. She did not come to. After a short walk, he located the other two humans sleeping at the roots of a large tree. Miraculously, nothing seemed to have happened to them. The other girl must have attracted all the attention.

                Rokan walked over to a gnarled old tree, preparing to climb it and keep watch as was instructed of him. He had no sooner placed his hand on the rough bark when a firm hand clasped itself onto his shoulder. He whirled around in suprise and, by instinct, grasped the arm that was clasping his shoulder. An arm swathed in the sleeve of a black robe.

                Shin smiled, his eyes narrowed at Rokan.

                “I see you still do not trust me, your master.” said the youthful yet menacing figure with long, jet black hair. He shrugged off the reply that Rokan was about to give. “Have you done as I asked, my servant?”

                Rokan knelt down before the Dark One. “Yes, master. I have made sure that the three were safe in this forest, and will carry out any other plans you have.”

                Shin gave a crooked smile, tracing his fingers along Rokan’s face. Rokan winced, feeling as if blades forged of ice were cutting into his flesh wherever the fingers touched his skin.

                “Do not fail me, my servant. My next task for you is to make sure that these three make it to Acheron safely, and once there, lead them to my lair. I will take care of the rest from there.”

                Rokan looked up from his kneeling position. “What about sending me home,” he said softly but firmly. “You won’t back out on your deal, will you?”

                Shin frowned, his red eyes burning. But after a minute, he started to chuckle softly.

                “Rokan, my boy, do you still not trust me?”

                “As far as I can throw you.”

                “You realize, of course, that I can kill you this very instant.” said Shin, his hands behind his back. One hand snaked out and again clasped Rokan on the shoulder, and gripped firmly. Rokan cried out. It hurt like hell, but he would not yield so simply. His sunglasses slipped off of his eyes as he looked his master in the face.

                “Yes, you can kill me, Shin,” he said, spitting out the name, “but you need me. I know your secrets that you foolishly showed me, and I know that you cannot do this without me!”

                Shin laughed out loud, picking up Rokan by the shoulder as if he were a rag doll.

                “That’s why I picked you, my lad!” he said. “You’re not one to bow down to pressure. Of course, I know that you would betray me at the first instant, but as long as I control your way home--and the only way back to your precious Misato,” he added, grinning when he saw Rokan’s furious reaction, “you will obey me! Understood?”

                Rokan bit his lip, then lowered his head in submission.

                “Yes, master.”

                The Dark One smiled. “And don’t forget that, Rokan...” he said as his body seemed to shimmer, grow transparent, then disappear completely, making not a sound.

                Rokan waited a few minutes. It was dangerous to leave thoughts unguarded around Shin. Even when he leaves, his presence still lingers around for a while, waiting to catch the fatal remark or thought that will reveal treachery.

                When enough time had passed, Rokan took from his shoe a device that resembled a cellular telephone from his world, only this one was smaller. He flipped it open, and pressed several buttons button on it, pointing it toward a shadowy section under the branches of another tree. He waited, and eventually a holographic image slowly formed where he pointed the device, almost as if it melted into place.

                Madoshi himself was cloaked in darkness, the faintest features of him showing up in the milky hologram, which was quivering slightly.

                “Ah, Rokan. I trust that you have done what I asked?” a distorted voice spoke from a speaker on the device. The hologram moved only slightly.

                “Yes. They are here.”

                “Good... did he show himself?”

                “Yes. I know that Shin can read minds, and I put myself in danger with each new meeting with him. Sooner or later he will find your device that blocks his powers, and when he does, my life will be forefit.”

                A pause.

                “Yes I am aware of that. I am sorry to put you in such danger, Rokan, but I need you. I cannot do many of these things by myself, I am required here. You are my eyes and ears, you are my right arm. We must succeed in the Plan, not only in order to save us, but to stop the ancient threat once and for all! I thought I knew all... but I was wrong. So many things still unknown! I have only a fraction of the knowledge needed in order to carry out my plan. So I need your and the others’ help, so that we may finally leave this wasted world and find out what is really happening around us.”

                Rokan nodded. “Aye.”

                The holographic image of Madoshi nodded in turn, then the image winked out. Rokan pondering, held out the device in front of him. After a while, he reached down to pick up his sunglasses, and put them back on.

                Can he really do it, he thought? Can he help us all? What does he need these three? And how does he know all of this...?

                Several sharp, jagged objects raked across Rokan’s back. He screamed, falling to the ground on both knees, stinging pain like wildfire burning on his shoulders and back. There was a blow to his face following up, which broke his sunglasses and bloodied his nose. He could see that it was a metal hand, rusted and corroded, that was attacking him like this. Hissing in pain, Rokan feebly reached for his automatic pistol that he had carried with him, aimed it and fired three shots, with several-second gaps in between each shot.

                The gunshots echoed loudly throughout the Cursed Forest, followed by a clang as two of the shots connected solidly. The undead robot (if there was such a thing) jerked and fell back a step or two for each bullet that hit its large body. Rokan, feeling weak, tried to squeeze off another shot, but by accident triggered the mechanism that ejected the clip from the gun. It fell to the dusty, leaf-covered forest floor. There was one bullet left in the chamber. The odds were against Rokan, and he knew it. He would be able to shoot again but it would probably do no good. The gun fell from his cold, shaking fingers as he saw the rusted robot swagger towards him with a frighteningly human gait. Rokan’s gaze lowered to the forest floor where there lay his ammo clip--and the charm that Madoshi had given him.

                Must’ve slipped off when I jumped from the tree...

                Suddenly Rokan heard a woman’s voice chanting soft words in a language that could only be magic, and felt cold, frigid air swirl past him and collect somewhere behind him. The voice ended the chant with a loudly punctuated syllable, and almost instantly, a man--no, more like an elder adolescent--with spiky red hair lept up high into the air above Rokan, and seemed to be suspended there for a moment as frigid energy was absorbed into his katana sword. The energy flowed through the blade, and the young man fell toward the robot , sword extended. The blade pierced the rusted metal creature, and instantly a thick sheet of ice began to envelop the robot entirely. The swordsman began to rapidly run around the dead robot, his sword slicing and singing as he continued in his deadly dance. He ended it with a quick slash through the ice encased ‘droid, and the robot fell into several pieces, each which shattered when they hit the ground. The pieces then seemed to dissolve, as if acid were poured on them, and a noxious smoke rose into the air and dissipated.

                It was then that Rokan fainted from the pain and loss of blood.

 

* * * * *

 

                “Shhhh... stay still.”

                Rokan blearily opened his eyes, and tried to move around, but was chastised by the voice and a pair of strong hands.

                The girl with red-gold hair was holding her hands over him, speaking words in arcane language softly. Her hands were placed over the wounds in his back, and somehow the presence of them felt warm and soothing. The deep, bleeding scratches in Rokan’s back were enveloped in a glowing white-blue aura, and slowly but surely they were beginning to close up, flesh and muscle mending, blood vessels connecting again.

                Rokan could see better now. The swordsman with punk hair was kneeling beside him, leaning on his katana, now in its scabbard. His gaze was wary, but he stood beside ready to help out with the healing if needed. The woman who cast the magic upon his sword was the person healing Rokan. He remembered that there was the other girl, the one with glasses, and he tried to turn around more to find her, only to discover that she was behind him.

                They were all outside of the forest, on the blasted landscape. They sky was dark, as always. In the distance, Rokan could see Acheron, the city, the last remnant of civilization around this area. The last city on this Dead World. The place where he was supposed to take the three. But with the way things looked now, it would probably be them taking him.

                The red-gold haired girl stopped her chanting and placed her hands on her knees, on which she was kneeling.

                “I think that’s the last of it,” she said to the swordsman. Leaning over Rokan, she spoke to him. “You can move freely now.”

                Rokan slowly pushed himself up to a standing position. The young man, however, made his way to him and stood in front of him.

                “Wait, wait. You’re not leaving until you tell us where we are and how we get out of this place.”

                Rokan blinked. “What?”

                The swordsman did not waver. “Don’t try and hide it from me! I saw you bring Lucca here,” he pointed to the lavender haired girl with glasses. “unconscious, I might add. I saw you talking to that thing. How else could we have attacked it before you were killed?”

                The golden haired girl placed a hand on his shoulder. “Crono, don’t be so harsh...”

                The man named Crono continued speaking. “I saw those bruises on Lucca’s neck. Did you do them? Because if you did, you’re in for some deep shi--”

                “No!” shouted the girl named Lucca. Crono, Rokan, and the other girl turned their heads toward her. She was standing up, hands clutched together, fear in her eyes.

                “It wasn’t... him.” she said, pointing toward Rokan. “It wasn’t him. It was.. something... oh god...” she fell to her knees and trembled, sobbing, reliving the terrible moment. Crono and the other girl knelt beside her, held her shoulders, offering words of sympathy.

                Her words affected Rokan, though. He remembered how that robot had silently clawed its way from the earth, and how it began to bleed from multiple orifices on its head, how it lumbered in a frighteningly alive type of manner.

                “The Eye...” Lucca said to herself, trembling.

                All heads turned toward her in unison. “What?”

                Lucca looked up at them, wiping away tears. “It was...” she shivered violently. Crono just looked at Rokan with an emotionless gaze while the other girl hugged her, offering soothing words.

                “It was... Crono, Marle, do you remember that robot battle-trainer I made for the Millennial Fair four years ago?”

                The swordsman and the golden-haired girl both nodded.

                Lucca continued. “Well, I was away from you guys looking around, and then... he appeared. Gato, the robot I made four years ago. He was there, I know it! It felt so real...” she shivered again.

                “Then he suddenly started... bleeding everywhere. I don’t know how or why. Metal doesn’t bleed...” she lowered her face to hide her tears. “A-and he started choking me, his bleeding face getting closer and closer, rusting, falling apart. Then he stopped, and his head was gone, with only a dark hole remaining...” Lucca’s voice started to quaver when she continued. “I saw.. inside... oh god...” she clutched Marle fiercely, afraid, trying her best not to cry. “The Eye...”

                Rokan’s head shot up. He was sitting a few feet away from the three, but he had been reliving the horrid scene as Lucca had described it. When she mentioned the Eye, he came to full attention.

                “The Eye... Madoshi spoke of it. The name of the nameless dead...”

                All but Lucca turned their attention towards him. “What?”

                “The Eye. Mado... I mean, my master, speaks of it sometimes. He speaks of it very little, though, as if it were something not meant to be spoken of. One time, he woke up in his sleep, screaming out unintelligible phrases, and among the words he spoke were ‘The Eye’ and ‘The Name of the Nameless Dead’...”

                The girl named Marle was entranced. “What did he mean by that?”

                Rokan shook his head. “I don’t know. I’d rather not. I may be his right hand man, but I don’t interpret his ramblings.”

                Crono, having not witnessed the horrifying spectacle that Lucca and Rokan had earlier, seemed more calm and collected.

                “Who is this Madoshi that you speak of?”

                Rokan matched Crono’s even gaze. “He is my master, the Wise One, the Prophet. The one who offers me and many others the way back, off of the Dead World and back to our lands...”

                Crono and Marle looked at each other. “Prophet?”

                Rokan continued. “Yes, the Prophet. He knows much of what had happened and what will happen, though his foresight is limited. Yet he has foretold that you exact three people would appear in this very spot, and he has sent me to fetch you an bring you to him...”

                Lucca was silent, looking down at her hands. Marle spoke some soft words to her and helped her stand up. Crono stood protectively in front of both of them, stern and unmoving.

                “Why should we trust you? Lucca says you didn’t do anything to her, but I’m not so sure...”

                “Crono, stop it!” the girl named Lucca commanded in a suprisingly strong and even voice. Crono looked at her in confusion. “This man,” she said, pointing to Rokan, “did not hurt me. In fact, he might have saved me from that... thing.” she walked up to him, and inquired, “What is your name?”

                He thought of telling them his real name, of finally ridding himself of the alias he had gone by for so long... but no. Madoshi had warned him never to tell his true name, as he himself never went by it.

                Don’t tell them until you are sure that you can trust them fully, Madoshi had said. These three, I know them, and they know who I really am, but whether you want to reveal your true self to them or not is up to you.

                “Rokan...” he paused, apparently nodding to himself. “My name is Rokan.”

                “Rokan...” Crono mused. “Very well. I say that we follow you. I have a feeling about this Madoshi, this Prophet...” he turned to the other two girls. “What do you think?”

                Marle whispered something to Crono, and his eyes widened. The two of them nodded resolutely to each other, much to Rokan’s confusion, then turned toward Lucca.

                “Well?”

                She simply nodded wordlessly.

                “All right,” he said, keeping a hand near his katana on his belt. “But no tricks, Rokan. Or else you have to deal with me.”

                The three--Crono, Lucca, and Marle--all walked together, behind the one they knew as Rokan. They started walking at an even pace, stopping to rest every now and then, for according to Rokan, the city named Acheron was not a far distance away. They ran into no more apparitions or foes on their way, only the same dark skies and barren land, the monotony of it broken only by the buildings and landmarks of the Last City.

                “That is Acheron, the Last City.” said Rokan, pointing to the city. The others showed only mild interest, all except for the inquisitive-minded Lucca.

                “Last City?”

                “Yeah, it’s one of the only outposts of civilization in this area,” said Rokan.

                “What exactly is this place, and how did it come to be?” inquired Marle.

                Rokan sighed. “I don’t know much myself, I’m not native to this area. No one is... but I can at least tell you what I know. It’ll take a while, though.”

                “We’ve got plenty of time,” said Crono sternly. “go ahead.”

                Rokan began to speak. “All right, where shall I begin...”

 

* * * * *

 

                The End of Time

 

                “What the... what in blazes... how?” were the only words that Gaspar could sputter. Spekkio uttered a sound that resembled a chuckle, though the features on his “face” did not betray any emotion.

                “Old man, do you really think this is what I am?” said the pink Nu, which reverted back to a Kilwala in a split second. “No, it’s not what you think. The way I gain new forms is by interacting with the very creatures I mimic. So, I guess I’ll leave it up to you to use your powers of deduction to figure the rest out.”

                Gaspar’s pipe fell out of his hands as he stared, his mind at work. Finally, he was able to speak again after a long period of silence.

                “Spekkio, what are you... really?”

                The Master of War shrugged his little Kilwala shoulders.

                Gaspar was insistent. “Spekkio, don’t play games with me now. I really need to know what is going on, and you’re one of the only people that seem to know. I need your help.”

                The Kilwala sighed. “Old man, the truth is... I don’t really know myself.”

                “What?”

                The Master of War nodded. “I can’t remember anything before arriving here, at what you call the End of Time. And you were wrong earlier. I haven’t been here all my life, I am an outsider just like yourself. Only, I have been here longer than you.”

                The guru of reason was absorbing this all in. “Good god... how long have you been here?”

                “Well old man, since this is the End of Time, and time isn’t practically or properly measured in here, I can’t really answer that. All I know is that you appeared while I was still here.”

                Gaspar frowned for a moment, then picked up his pipe from where it fell. “Amazing... but even so, that is beside the point. Earlier, when you assumed a Nu form, I had an epiphany, and now I’ve forgotten what it was about...

                Spekkio waddled up to the guru of reason. “Ah, you were probably wondering something that has been pondered by many others, especially your old friend Belthasar...”

                “The Mystery of Life?”

                The Master of War almost had a seizure from that answer. “No!!! You were wondering about the Nu and what exactly they were! Couldn’t you figure THAT out? Maybe you are going senile!”

                “Senile? How dare you! Have you no respect?”

                Spekkio snickered. “Not for those who forget so easily.”

                Gaspar fumed for a moment, then sighed. “Anyway, yes, you are right. I was hoping that perhaps you could help me out with the enigmatic Nu.”

                The Kilwala sat down next to the bucket that contained healing water. “Well old man, would you believe me if I said that the Nu are not native to the world you come from?”

                Gaspar looked grim. “I... it would seem so. They never did seem to fall into any ecological niche, and Belthasar didn’t seem to understand them either.” the pipe lit up again. “But the way I remember, the Nu were little more than semi-sentient animals. We used them for manual labor and menial tasks. They were not magic creatures--no aura or power surrounded them. Still, I do wonder how they were discovered.”

                “Don’t forget, humans did know of Nu back in prehistoric times, around 65,000,000 B.C.E.” said Spekkio.

                “Are you hinting at something?” asked Gaspar, pipe clamped in this teeth. Spekkio nodded, but not without a troubled expression on his face.

                “Yes, well... it’s really hard for me to remember what I’m trying to.”

                Gaspar sat up straight. “What? Tell me, I must know!”

                The Master of War began to slowly speak. “Well, it was... the time that I first arrived at this place you call ‘The End of Time’. I can’t remember much before that... only a few glimpses and half-remembered memories.”

                Gaspar exhaled smoke. “Go on.”

                “How was it... forgive me, like I said before, for some reason I cannot remember very much of my past before entering this place.” the Kilwala stood up and paced around the corners of the small room, pondering, until after a few minutes he came to a solution.

                “That’s it!” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers.

                Gaspar was interested, puffing away furiously with his pipe as he always did when thinking or intrigued about something.

                “Continue, my friend! Whatever you have to say, it must be relevant!”

                Spekkio still paced as he talked. “I can remember... someone telling me of a great calamity that destroyed a planet where a sentient species dwelled, a very advanced species. Needless to say, the cataclysm destroyed them along with their planet, as the--reports?--said. How the cataclysm occurred, I do not know. But I remember someone else telling me something of them, how a few somehow survived. How they left behind one last legacy, their ultimate creation, before they disappeared forever...”

                The guru of reason was attentive as a child. “Continue! This is something that I’ve never heard or known of before!”

                “I remember this part more clearly now, when I arrived at this place. It was before Lavos arrived, while humans were little more than sentient apes, fighting an evolutionary battle with the more advanced reptites. I remember one day as I looked upon the earth, I noticed something I’ve never seen before, in one of the prehistoric jungles. A short, squat creature colored blue, with short arms and legs...”

                “A Nu!” said Gaspar. “But how do you know that it was unique? It could have hidden among the jungles long before you arrived.”

                The Master of War shook his head. “No, it couldn’t have. I was able to see every last square inch of the planet while I was there. I KNOW that the Nu was not something of this world when I first looked upon it. And it did appear a while after I arrived... about a century, if I can use years in a place like this.”

                “So there is a connection with the Nu and this alien race’s ‘final legacy’, according to your testimony.” said Gaspar, nodding to himself. “Incredible...”

                “It would appear so,” said Spekkio with less enthusiasm.

                “But one thing remains unclear,” said Gaspar. “How did the Nu appear suddenly on this world?”

                The Kilwala was silent for a moment. “I do not know. But I have a bad feeling about this all...”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Well, what if the Nu are connected to Lavos somehow? What if they are responsible for bringing him to this planet?”

                That caused the guru of reason to think a bit. “Interesting theory. I shall have to think a bit on this one... and if you are true, the Nu are a dangerous foe indeed. But it just doesn’t make sense... I’ve worked around Nu. They don’t seem the kind to be, well... evil. Have you ever witnessed any evil done by a Nu?”

                “No,” said Spekkio. “And I could be wrong. But still, I have a bad feeling about them. Not just them... but whatever caused the planet of their masters to be destroyed. What if the thing followed them? What if... it is here right now?”

                Silence.

                “Gods help us,” said Gaspar solemnly, his pipe on the floor.

                “It makes me think that the Seven companions were meant to travel through portals so recently.” said Spekkio, sitting down again near the healing bucket. Gaspar was taken completely by suprise.

                “What? Not only Ayla vanished?”

                “Old man, I know these things. I saw each of them get sucked into different portals, by different means. With Crono, Lucca, and Marle, it was by accident. Frog, well Glenn since Magus reverted his form, was forced into a gate by a Nu. Magus... I think he learned something of what’s happening, so he left by himself. And we all know how Ayla left.”

                “All of them?” asked Gaspar in disbelief. “But how? What time era did they go to?”

                Spekkio shook his head. “Gaspar, try to think more than three dimensions, pun intended.”

                The guru raised an eyebrow at this request, until he figured out what Spekkio meant. “Another universe... I should have known. So, the gates don’t only lead to eras in our world.”

                “It would appear so,” said Spekkio again. “But the gates are supposed to only lead to different time eras in our world, not entirely different universes. That’s the way it has been since the birth of this planet, and even longer before that.”

                Gaspar added in his knowledge. “According to the Conservation of Time Theorem, a great disturbance in the space/time fabric is something that can damage the stability of gates, causing them to grow larger than normal and to change the destination of them.”

                Spekkio nodded in approval. “When the Seven destroyed Lavos, I believe that it caused a large disturbance in the space/time fabric. That could be the reason that the gates have returned and that--”

                “Returned?” Gaspar laughed. “No, my friend! You may know much about the outside of our world, but I still have the lion’s share of pure scientific knowledge. The gates have not ‘returned’ as you put it. They have always been there, and always will be there. They are small tears in the fabric of space and time. Certain disturbances, or events, cause these little tears to grow larger, such as when Lucca’s Telepod device reacted to Marle--no, Schala’s--pendant. Like I said before, the greater the disturbance or event, the larger and less stable the gate becomes.”

                “Like when Magus summoned Lavos to his castle in 600 C.E.!” exclaimed Spekkio, snapping his fingers. “And what’s happening now is because of the disturbance caused when Lavos was destroyed!”

                “Not exactly, my friend.” said Gaspar, once again picking up his pipe and lighting it.

                “What do you mean?” asked Spekkio stubbornly.

                “Well, when Janu... when Magus summoned Lavos to his castle in 600 C.E., the result was only the creation of a larger than normal gate that led everyone into different time eras. There was nothing more than that. So I say it wasn’t only Lavos that caused the gates to become unstable. He wasn’t powerful enough to do such a thing.”

                Spekkio shifted his form into a large, frowning Masa Mune beast and towered over Gaspar, looking down upon him. “Oh really? I wonder if you are really right, Gaspar. Do you even have proof of your earlier statement on the stability of gates?”

                Guru Gaspar looked back up at Spekkio, unimpressed by his change. “Numerous experiments, college and Scientific Institute thesises, contributions to astronomy and physics, my award given to me by the King of Zeal, the Chrono Trigger, the--”

                Spekkio silenced him with a wave of his massive fist, then shrunk back to his Kilwala form. “Forget it, I believe you. But what I don’t understand is, if Lavos didn’t cause the disturbance by himself, then... what else did?”

                Gaspar inhaled from his pipe and exhaled a cloud of smoke. “That’s what we have to find out.”

 

* * * * *

 

                Area: Outskirts of Acheron

                Era: Undetermined

 

                “I do not know much about this world myself, but what I know I will share with you. This world, as far as I know, has no true name. I don’t even know where the hell it exists. The people stuck here--yes, I do mean stuck here, which I will explain later--call this place the Dead World, and rightly named it is.

                “Okay, there are several settlements, I think, far from this area, but I’ve never been around much. I’ve only been here in Acheron. Basically, we get people from all over. And I do mean all over. There’s humans, other types of sentient life forms I haven’t even heard of or seen--”

                “Other life forms?” Lucca interrupted Rokan as she walked along with him and her other two friends. “You mean, like alien life forms?”

                Rokan chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Though, this is such an alien world that I have trouble calling them ‘alien life forms’ myself. I’ve even seen beings that I thought only existed in fairy tales and Tolkien books. Elves, dwarves... I’m not kidding.”

                “Wow..” said Marle, entranced.

                “Amazing... how did they get here, and where did they all come from?” asked Lucca.

                “And who the hell’s Tolkien?” blurted out Crono, confused.

                Rokan continued, unable to answer the questions immediately (especially Crono’s).

                “Anyway, like I said, you get people from all over here. Of course, since there’s such a diverse variety of sentient life, it’s nearly impossible to establish a system of laws that everyone agrees with. So Acheron remains a mildly anarchistic city. The only order we have comes from groups of... well, calling them criminal syndicates would be kind of out of place in a society like this, where there is no natural law, but I guess that’s the best description of them.

                “So, this city is ruled by gangs of cutthroats.” stated Crono. Rokan raised an eyebrow at this statement.

                “Well, to tell you the truth, there IS a city council, but it is so corrupt that one tends to prefer the rule of the ‘outlaws’ to the council. The syndicates are too busy with their own internal affairs to tax or to bully the people. Instead, they propose an alternative to the corrupt council: you pay an annual fee in order to have protection from others by the syndicate you pay. It seems strange, but it actually works out this way. It keeps people from rioting or from looting and pillaging like one would imagine in a somewhat anarchistic society. Basically, the little order that we have comes from these ‘gangs of cutthroats,’ as you describe them, Crono.”

                Crono frowned in anger, not bothering to retaliate. Marle, however, was still interested in learning more.

                “Is this Madoshi a member of a criminal syndicate?”

                Rokan chuckled. “Yes, I guess you could say that.”

                “Just out of curiosity, how did he become the leader?”

                “He killed the former leader and his toadies, and took their place.”

                Crono frowned, and shared a confused glance with Marle. “He sounds dangerous.”

                “Only if you’re on the wrong side,” said Rokan. “Actually, he’s brought more order to the syndicate and turned a small band of brigands to top-notch thieves. Madoshi leads the organization and is the only syndicate leader that is carrying out a plan to get us out of this place.”

                Rokan stopped talking, leaving everyone to brood over their thoughts before they entered the city. But when he led the three to the “gates” of Acheron, they were speechless. Before them, beyond what was apparently a checkpoint, was a sprawling complex, the largest Crono, Lucca, or Marle had ever seen. It was a mixture of technology and decay, from what could be seen, but was still something to marvel over.

                At the wide entrance, there were a large group of robots standing guard. Rokan strolled casually up to them, and almost immediately the nearest one wheeled right in front of him, saying something rapidly in a language none of the three had ever heard before. The robot had, attached to its arm, what seemed to be a rather large cannon-like device. Fortunately, the machine did not need to use it. Rokan retrieved from his pocket a plastic card, and slotted it into an orifice on the robot’s other arm. Several lights blinked across the machine’s black face, and then it moved aside, the other robots following it.

                “Gotta have this card to get in Acheron,” said Rokan, holding it up for the others to see. “Otherwise, the ‘bots go ballistic on ya, and I wouldn’t want to get caught around them in their attack mode. Those arm cannons can blow a hole in steel. Luckily for you, I have permission to escort you people within the city. Madoshi’s able to bend the system like that.” he added with a chuckle.

                Crono kept on hand to the hilt of his katana. “Don’t make any wrong moves...”

                “Hey, Relax!” said Rokan nonchalantly with a grin. “If I wanted to ‘86 you, I could have done it a long time ago. But I don’t want or need to. Just stick close to me, I’ll make sure no one--or thing--harasses you guys.”

                “How far is this ‘Madoshi’ and how long will it take us to get to him?” asked Lucca.

                Rokan looked back at her and grinned. The sounds of a city echoed everywhere, breaking the sound of the wind that dominated the blasted plains. The streets were paved with a hard, sturdy material that was unlike the dirt or cobbled roads Crono or Marle were used to. Lucca was able to tell that the material was asphalt, something she had seen when she visited the future in 1999 C.E. Puddles of stagnant water were seen in several places, pooling in the dips of the road.

                “You’ll meet him soon enough,” said Rokan, giving Lucca an admiring gaze, much to her bewilderment. He walked down the street, his head held down. “You’ll meet him soon enough...”

 

Chapter Three

 

                Darkness.

                In the upper right corner, a red light turned on, blinked. In the front, text blaxed forth:

                R-66Y R-SERIES MODEL

            MANUFACTURING FACTORY:  GENO DOME

            SILICA MATRIX CORPORATION, 1998 C.E.

                The text vanished, and was replaced by more:

            TIME: UNDETERMINED

            ERA: UNKNOWN

            ...INTERNAL CLOCK ERROR. BEGIN REBOOTING SEQUENCE...

                Robo came to, his ancient optic sensors flaring to life. The mechanical sound of his internal computer booting up was heard, and echoed in the silence. The silence... no, it was not silent. There was a slow and steady hum throughout the area, quiet enough to be unheard to the nonscrupulous listener. The sound of heating systems. The sound of propulsion mechanisms. The sound of pumping coolant...

                All this passed though Robo’s positronic brain in less than a few seconds. He knew that he was inside a type of spacecraft. But right now, that was beside the matter. What had happened to him?

                “Systems reactivated... where am I?” he spoke to himself. He expected no answer to his question.

                The touch of a smooth hand was registered upon his shoulder. The old robot turned around, confused at having not sensed anything earlier. He tried to see who it was, but his optic sensors were not 100% functional, and he could only see a vague form in the darkness.

                “Shh... don’t talk.” came a soft synthesized voice. “And please don’t move, it is difficult enough to repair you as it is.”

                Robo knew that voice. “Minako?”

                His optic sensors came to full power, and through his peripheral vision he could see the form of the chrome female android, hunched over him, tinkering around with wires and cables that could only be his own. A compartment on his back was open, his mechanical innards splayed out.

                “Yes, it is me.” she said. “I am sorry for your present state, Robo. I’m doing all I can to repair you... it seems that you were not built that well to absorb that much damage.”

                “Damage?” came the confused robot’s reply. “What danger?” He slowly turned around, disregarding Minako’s earlier request that he stay still. “I have no recollection of danger... oh, I am sorry!”

                Turning around, Robo had a full view of Minako Aino. She was hunched over repairing him, yes that was certain. But the blue, tattered jumpsuit that she was previously wearing was gone.

                Whoever designed her body, he thought, did it well.

                Minako had no flesh body, as most of the others of her model did. Instead, she had replaced it with a sleek, silver-chrome body designed by a black marketing manufacturer. And though it was not flesh, it was no less perfect. She was kneeling, on one leg, beside Robo, but when she saw him she inadvertantly shrank back, her luminous eyes flashed. Her body was of metal, but of a flexible, extremely smooth material Robo had never seen before. And her body... it was sculpted to a perfect replica of the female form, breathtakingly beautiful. Proportioned correctly, with all the parts appearing as they should, though without any orifices, all of it the shining color of mercury...

                Minako did not move to conceal her “nakedness”, just knelt there, her yellow, almond shaped eyes boring into Robo’s round optic sensors. He soon realized just what he had been doing for the past minute and quickly turned back around, ashamed. If her were human, his face would be flushed red.

                “I-I am sorry--”

                The female android shook her head, her metallic black strands of hair moving side to side. “Don’t be. I have nothing to hide.” she said, though when Robo turned around, she lowered her head and clasped a silver arm around her breasts.

                Why am I feeling like this...

                “My form is of a metal found on one of the planets of our solar system. I had it sculpted in this form in order to make use of certain human-proportioned devices that I would not have been able to in a more bulky form.”

                Then why do I feel... shame? I am not human... but why do I feel like this?

                Robo still remained with his gaze averted from her. “I understand. But for the sake of modesty, I shall remain facing this way.”

                Minako tilted her head, her smooth face devoid of any expression. After a moment of silence, she went back to Robo’s side, various wires of his insides connected to a poratable computer, its monitor reading a series of numbers. She knelt there, typing commands into the keypad, connecting several more wires.

                Thank you, Robo, she silently thought.

                “How did I end up like this, Minako? What has happened? Last I remember, we were on the Tengu and going to investigate an anomaly...”

                Minako paused, not too sure what to do. “Your memory banks,” she spoke. “there is no recollection of what has happened?” The female android typed in something to the small computer. “Let me help you acess it.” Though as she did so, Minako felt what could only be guilt.

                Robo could not see what Minako was doing, but he was able to sense that his memory banks were being searched and sorted through. And then, the memory of what had happened hit him in full force.

                The anomaly, the strangness of it. The probe crashing against it, tearing the ship apart. The gruesome, unexplained deaths of two crew members. Utema frantically struggling in his pressure suit as he watched the humans die in space, himself being drawn into the anomaly that was the Black Hole...

                “Oh god...” Robo uttered, his synthetic voice filled with sadness and horror. He clenched his head with his mechanical fists. “I have failed them...”

                Minako stopped what she was doing, offered her sympathy by soothing words. “There was nothing any of us could do about it, Robo.”

                “But... how could I have prevented it? Why couldn’t I? All those people...”

                Minako kept on repairing Robo while she talked. “Under the circumstances, there was nothing at all that we could do.” she said while reconnecting several wires and typing in commands to the mini-computer. “I’ve learned that if you brood over something like that for too long, it can lead to severe consequences. I can’t see how humans or anyone can live with these strange emotions...”

                But Minako herself was a contradiction to that statement.

                “I... I guess you are right.” said Robo, still turned away from her. “Emotions can be harmful, not all of them feel good, but that is how I and others know that we are alive! Minako, you are just beginning to experience them, do not have contempt for human feelings.”

                The female android was silent, her naked body kneeling down to repair the body of the bulkier, older model robot before her. The silence lasted for several minutes. Robo did not wish to disturb her, keeping himself from interrupting the repairs. He also wanted her to think about what he said with a clear mind, if such a thing could be applied to robots.

                There was a loud snap as the compartment on the back of Robo was shut, the sound of it echoing in the near-silent, empty room on the ship. Minako stood up, chrome hand placed on a slender hip, observing her handiwork. She brushed aside several strands of her black, metallic hair from her almond-shaped glowing eyes.

                “I’m finished. You should be able to function properly now.”

                Robo stood up, his metallic joints creaking. He had obviously been sitting there for quite some time. He tested his mechanisms by clenching and unclenching his fists, but walking several paces, and by swiveling his head. He then turned toward Minako, his optic sensors leveled at her face, not daring to look downward.

                “You must have stayed by my side, fixing me for hours, even days. Thank you, Minako.”

                She lowered her head, an arm grasping her shoulder. Her voice was one of embarassment.

                “You-you’re welcome.” she replied, pausing to look Robo in the face. Then her eyes narrowed. She was--for emotions were still a new thing to her--experiencing the newest human emotion to her; shame. And she did not want to show her weakness to Robo. She narrowed her eyes and folded her slender arms in front of her.

                “Anyway, I need your expertise right now.” she said, abruptly switching the subject. Robo’s blinking sensors revealed nothing as far as emotions. “I need you to help me find a way for us to get out of this cell.”

                “Cell?”

                “Yes, cell. We are prisoners, you know.” Minako stated with what seemed like minor impatience. Robo was still confused.

                “Prisoners? What do you mean, Minako? I only remember being sucked into the anomaly, and nothing after.”

                “You do not recall any events, Robo? Try and find it in your memory banks.”

                Robo nodded. A soft whirring sound came as Robo searched through his memory banks, and his optic sensors flashed rapidly. After a moment, the noise and the flashing subsided, and Robo shook his head.

                “The data is corrupt. I cannot access it anymore.”

                Minako made a sound that uncannily resembled a sigh, emulating human frustration even as she was experiencing it. She sat down against the wall, her arms wrapped around her slender chrome legs, a position she used before. However, she was not solely frustrated by Robo’s ignorance.

                The problem was how she would relate the events to him...

 

 

* * * * *

 

                Space was deep. Silence pervaded the eternal void, a universe of vaccum and stars, the chaos that gave birth to order and life. The order existed as the planetary bodies, the stars, and the gaseous beginnings of stars, the nebulas. But the chaotic void that birthed life was just that; chaotic. And not everything was of order...

                Minako clung to Robo’s metal body, the two of them somehow tumbling through the void, being drawn in by the Black Hole, the anomaly that destroyed the Tengu. She and Robo had witnessed the deaths of the entire crew, helpless to do anything. The whole thing had happened so fast that there was no time to react. Somehow, two marines were eviscerated instantly by something unknown. Their death screams burned their way into Minako’s mind as one would burn data into a computer. Robo had been hit by flying debris when the ship ruptured and his metal form was lifeless, wires hanging out of his torso. The sole human survivor was the ship’s captain, Utema. He was wearing a pressure suit when the disaster struck. Now, he was being drawn into the anomaly as well, frantically thrashing, trying to get away, his face hidden behind the mirrored faceplate.

                Minako, in a state of semi-shock, just clung to Robo, watching as Utema was drawn into the Black Hole, and awaiting the same for her and Robo. Somwhow, she was hearing the sound of weeping. In her current state, Minako thought it was somehow herself weeping at the spectacle that just took place. But it was not.

                Unknown to any of the three, the Nu that Minako had seen was maneuvering flawlessly through the vacuum of space, following them into the anomaly, tears streaming down its expressionless face, tears that instantly froze and crystallized in the cold of space, leaving a trail behind it.

 

 

* * * * *

 

                Minako was still clutching herself, shivering, when she finished retelling the events that took place. Her body was not built for showing extreme human emotions such as crying. She could only sit and shiver in the corner where she sat, her bare chrome skin glistening in the dark room.

                Robo was still sitting where he was, not wanting to disturb Minako in her fear and sadness and frustration. In truth, Robo was feeling the same way she was. His body was built before they added mechanisms to emulate human emotions. His version of Minako’s shivering was silence.

                “There was nothing we could do.” said Minako after a while, lifting her head up, her eyes narrowed. “Robo, we are not human. We were not built to withstand this... trauma.” she was shivering uncontrollably now. “It is best that we not think of these events, else it will make us go mad.”

                Robo was not listening. “All those people...” he muttered.

                Minako sighed. “We are still alive. And maybe Utema is too. Let us stop this pondering and deal with what is now.”

                Robo was still muttering to himself. “If only I had reacted faster...”

                The female android’s head was in her hands. “Robo, stop.”

                “Why did this happen?”

                “Robo...”

                “If only I had--”

                “Robo! Enough! Quit your regretting and deal with it!”

                Her shout echoed in the small room. But it’s effects were not gone. Robo slowly turned his head toward Minako, his optic sensors flashing.

                “Don’t you regret it?” he said menacingly, his voice rising. “Don’t you regret anything that happened?”

                Minako’s eyes were narrow, yellow slits. “Yes, I do.” she said as if through clenched teeth. “But I am dealing with it. Why aren’t you?!”

                “I have!” he yelled. “But unlike you, I don’t despise humans! It is my job to protect life, and in that job I failed!”

                “So what?” she snapped. “So have I! And I don’t despise humans to the point of relishing their death! You are just a blubbering fool!”

                “And you are nothing but a shell! A pathetic emulation of a human! Your form is human, but your mind is not! You faker! You ARE nothing but an emotionless android! You are a disgrace, Minako! Or should I say N-546?!”

                Robo’s harsh words stuck a deeper blow than Minako’s did to him. She stood up, shameless of her nudity, her fists clenched, walking toward him. Robo stood up, his optic sensors flashing red. Minako’s eyes were a brighter, blinding yellow color, narrowed into slits. Her body literally trembled with anger.

                “Take that back,” she said softly.

                Robo said nothing, facing her, his fists clenched as well.

                “TAKE IT BACK!” she yelled, swinging a chrome fist towards Robo. He stepped back, and the fist connected with nothing but air. It was his turn. He threw a punch, his fist propelled by momentum and boosters, flying out toward Minako, a chain following the fist out of his arm. It connected solidly with her stomach the sound of metal against metal, and the sheer force of it threw her against the wall she was sitting against earlier. She cried out, hitting the wall, and fell to the floor.

                Robo’s fist instantly withdrew after what he had done. His optic sensors stopped flashing red, and he rushed to Minako’s side.

                “Oh my god, I didn’t mean it... I’m sorry...”

                But his words fell on deaf ears. Minako shot up, drew back her arm, and threw a punch, her metal alloy fist clanging against Robo’s bronze shell. Her skin was of a sturdier material, one of the sturdiest available. Her fist tore through Robo’s shoulder, ripping wires that she had repaired earlier. Her other arm tore at his arm, ripping it from it’s socket. Robo’s metal arm fell to the floor with a metallic clank. She was not done yet. With her hand, Minako grasped Robo’s head, squeezing, the bronze of his skin creaking in protest. One of his optic sensors burst, turning black. He cried out like she did, helpless against this furious android that tore at him.

                “Now I will make you pay, R-66Y.” she hissed, bringing back an arm for the final blow. Her eyes were slits of gold showing out in the shadows that her metallic hair cast upon her face.

                “Minako,” Robo spoke, his voice weak. The sound of his wires spewing electricity everywhere in the room could be heard. “I... am sorry. I take it back.” his remaining optic sensor was a dull yellow. “I.. do not want to fight you, Minako. I acted in haste... forgive me.”

                “Why?” she asked angrily. “Why do you yield? I could destroy you this very moment. Get up!”

                Robo looked her in the eyes with his remaining sensor. “You’re... beautiful...”

                Minako’s fist stopped clenching, and she shivered, her eyes widening a bit. “What?”

                Robo struggled to stand up. “You’re beautiful, Minako. And in the life span of emotions, you are but a child. I do not want to see you consumed but hate. If you really despise humans, then learn from their mistakes. Many a human have lost their emotions to hatred. Do not become like that, Minako.” he made no move to defend himself from Minako’s fist. “Please...”

                Minako looked at Robo, in his pathetic state. Wires and metal skin that she had painstakingly repaired earlier were torn and spurting electricity. His one optic sensor was looking into her own eyes.

                “R-Robo...”

                Her fist fell to her side, and she stumbled, falling to the floor. A strong metal arm stopped her in mid-fall, supporting her. For a moment, it seemed that she would fall against him for support. But instead, she turned the other way, and ran to the corner that she was sitting in earlier. She leaned against the wall on her side, her face averted, both arms clasped across her chest.

                Robo felt sorrow and pity. “Minako--”

                “It’s all right, Robo. Do not feel pity for me.” she said in a suprisingly sturdy voice. “Instead... please accept my forgiveness. I overreacted as well, to a higher extreme. I am sorry.” she made a motion of wiping tears, which Robo saw as an emulation of human emotions. “Please, let me repair you.”

                Robo obliged, assuring Minako that it was all right and that he understood. He had gone through processes of emotional awakening similar to hers. As Minako made her way to repair him, Robo thought he saw something wet glisten on her metallic cheek.

                Tears...? But she is a robot... how is it possible?

                There was a loud clanging sound from outside the room. In the wall in front of Robo and Minako, a door materialized, almost as if it had grown from the wall itself. The door opened by lifting up with a soft humming sound, and the figure of a humanoid (by the looks of it) was seen standing outside the door.

                “What is this?” asked Robo. Minako had said earlier about the two of them being “prisoners” in the ship, but she never mentioned anything about the captors.

                “It’s them,” Minako growled, adopting a defiant stance, hands on her hips. “I didn’t tell you earlier, but they are our... captors, you might say. I don’t remember much of how we got here... just that somehow I powered down in the anomaly and when I powered back up, I was in this cell. They took my uniform, probably to search it for weapons of any kind.” she said, with a hint of anger in her voice. “Then, they brought you in. This was only around 5 hours ago, according to my internal clock. You were all busted up, and I did my best to repair you.” she then shook her head sadly. “Until I lost my temper...”

                Robo picked up his broken arm and spoke. “Don’t think about it. I don’t hold any grudge against you now. Like you said, what’s done is done.”

                The figure in the doorway slowly began to make its way into the light of the room. Judging from the dark outline of it, the humanoid was rather tall, topping both Robo and Minako by several feet. Apparently, it was wearing some type of bulky suit, possibly armor. It’s hands were rather large, almost as big as the head of the creature. Each hand had five long fingers, and in one hand he carried something that could only be Minako’s blue jumpsuit. The figure threw the jumpsuit to Minako, who accepted it with a dangerous look in her eyes. She shamelessly suited up, then resumed her defiant pose.

                “You might as well come into the light, you bastard...” she muttered.

                Whether the creature understood Minako or not was uncertain. But he did, in fact, come into the light of the room. And when he did, Robo uttered a sharp gasp.

                It can’t be!

                The partial suit, like body armor. The long, willowy arms with huge, five-fingered hands. The equally large feet that resembled avian creatures. The face... the face... even partially hidden by a mask, there was no mistake of who the creature resembled.

                “It can’t be... Lavos?!” excalimed Robo, pointing with his remaining arm at the creature. Minako turned her head toward him, giving him a confused look.

                “Lavos? What are you talking about, Robo?”

                “Lavos” began to speak. Its voice was unlike any human voice, and the language equally unlike anything Earth has ever known. The voice of the creature was very deep and meanacing, and the language sounded like.. like... it was impossible to explain. Something harsh and raspy, not sounding very friendly. The language seemed to be composed entirely of consonants, though it had a kind of harsh, dangerous beauty to it. It was only apparent that the creature was talking to someone else over some kind of communicator when another similar voice responded in the guturral language from a speaker somewhere on the creature’s suit.

                “But.. how can it be? We destroyed Lavos! I don’t understand!”

                The creature silenced its speaker when it heard the word “Lavos” from Robo once again. It cocked its head in a bird-like manner, taking large steps toward the robot.

                “Lavos...” it slowly sounded out with the harsh voice it used. Then the creature uttered out a string or words that sounded something like “K’rchhk atchh khrrxz ekxkt...”, which was answered by another similar voice over the unseen speaker. The alien then looked at Robo’s torn arm socket. It muttered something else into the unseen communicator, then just stood there beside the door.

                Minako was suited back up now, standing up with her arms crossed. “What do you mean by ‘Lavos’?” she inquired.

                Robo glanced toward her, giving a wary gaze to the alien.

                “You don’t know about it... not many people do at all. In fact, I think only me and my six companions know about it. You see, what you thought was Lavos--the large, quilled life form that burst from the earth circa 1999 C.E.--was actually the outer shell of the real creature.”

                “Shell?” Minako’s eyes slanted downward, as if in skepticism.

                “Something like that. Well, actually it was more like a... an armor of some sorts. To me, it seemed to possess both organic and inorganic qualities. Anyway, when we destroyed the ‘eye’ of Lavos, an open hole was left behind. I remember going inside... it was like a cavern, not organic at all. I don’t have any firsthand information about anything else, because I was not chosen to fight Lavos himself. I can only give you descriptions from what the others told me. Lavos himself was suited up in giant, metallic armor, with multiple arms and several hose-like devices attached to the armor. And behind that, was Lavos himself. I was given mulitple descriptions of it, and generated an image that was correct, according to the people who had seen and fought Lavos.” he looked back at the alien, but still spoke to Minako.

                “That alien life form before us... it is the exact image of Lavos.”

                The female android dropped her arms to her side, her eyes widened. “Lavos...”

                The alien cocked it’s head again at the name ‘Lavos’. It seemed about to say something until it heard something and looked behind. Another identical alien entered the room, looking at the two robots before it. It then turned toward the first creature, and the two exchanged words in the unintelligable language. The first one--after what seemed like an argument with the second--made its way to Robo, kneeling beside the robot in order to be level with Robo’s broken arm. From an area on its suit,the alien produced a variety of strange looking tools, accompanied by a small box with an equally strange logo on it. With its multi-jointed fingers, large and long yet suprisingly nimble and articulated, the alien began to repair Robo’s broken arm area, taking the arm out of Robo’s hand first. The robot did not protest, though he wondered why his captors would be repairing him.

                After what seemed like only a few minutes, Robo’s arm was almost connected. All but the smallest wires were repaired, and the actual reattaching of the arm was still left to be done. Now, the alien took the small box and opened it, taking into its hand what seemed like a strip of metallic cloth. It applied the object to Robo’s arm socket, and then pressed a button on the inside of the box. The ‘cloth’ melded to the shape of Robo’s arm, completing the reattachment, and what seemed like tiny metal pieces moved around inside the arm, reattaching the smallest wires that the alien could not reach--nanobots.

                Robo’s arm was completely repaired in less than a third of the time it took Minako to do it. He tested it out by moving it, swinging it, and clenching his fist. The alien stood up from its kneeling position, towering over Robo. The other alien walked toward Robo, and the two of them began talking again, apparently discussing something involving Robo.

                Minako stepped toward Robo. “I don’t like what they seem to be talking about...”

                Suddenly, the two creatures moved to both sides of Robo rather quickly for their size, and both grasped an arm. They lifted him with little effort, as if he were made of lightweight aluminum. Robo was startled, and he struggled against his captors, but to no avail.

                “Robo!” Minako shouted, rushing to his side, intent on stopping the captors. One of the aliens looked toward her, no expression seen behind the mask it wore, not intimidated.

                But Minako was not to be underestimated.

                Her eyes flashed, her hair whipped past her as she dashed toward the alien. She lept into the air and kicked with her slender chrome foot. The creature made a gesture as if to bat it away, but to no avail. Its arm was knocked out of the way, and the kick connected solidly with the alien’s midsection. It made a loud, frightening sound of anger that seemed like a scream, then knelt on one knee, clutching its chest. The other alien let go of Robo’s other arm and stood with its arms open. It then stretched one out, opened its hand, and a green bolt, followed by a blue bolt of electricity from the suit, flew out of its outstreched hand and struck Minako in the chest. She flew back and hit the wall, currents of electricity streaming about her, her form limp. Her eyes were still luminous yellow, though they were nearly shut in emulation of pain. She was still alive.

                “Minako!” Robo shouted, rushing to her side. He was caught before he could reach her, and lifted up once again. He struggled against the two aliens that held him, but to no avail. Their arms, though gangly looking, were incredibly strong. He was carried out of the room slowly, giving Minako a last, worried glance.

                Minako saw that glance and lifted an arm to show that she was okay. But the bolt had messed with her internal system somehow. She felt herself powering down, her sight diminishing. Luckily, the body she had purchased was strong. She wouldn’t break down. For now, though, she could not stop from powering down until her system rebooted itself. Dimly, she saw something before she powered down. Before the door that the aliens had created vanished from sight, a small, squat blue creature rushed into the room.

                “A Nu?” Minako wondered out loud. But after that she could say no more, for her systems shut down and she powered down, the light in her eyes blinking out.

 

 

* * * * *

 

                The room that Robo and Minako were in was small. But the rest of the ship was not. Long corridors in the ship were tall and wide enough to accomodate several of the strange aliens that created it, very large by human standards. Large catwalks going over areas where the aliens worked at computers and other unnameable devices could be seen, as well as large areas that served as holds. One of the ship’s holds was not being used at the present, and it was dark and nearly empty. It was located near the rear of the large starship, occupied only by what looked like a few large crates. Even the hum of the ship’s engines was muffled, and silence prevailed.

                But not for long.

                The air in the hold suddenly began to swirl, crackling with blue bolts of electricity. There was a flash, and suddenly a swirling blue hole was ripped in the now turgid air. The blue miasma spit out the form of a human, which fell to the floor with a loud clang. The portal then imploded, leaving the air quiet and still again.

                Except for the human.

                “What... what be this?” Glenn said softly, getting up from his sprawled position. He was still dressed in the armor that he had worn earlier, his sword at his side. He could barely remember anything, except the swirling blue void of the gate. Then, it came back to him as he looked farther back:

                The clearing in the forest. The Nu using the strange machine. The Nu discovering Glenn, grasping him by the arm, and hurling him into a gate that it had spawned seemingly out of nowhere. And now, this dark, metal-smelling area.

                “Where am I?” Glenn asked himself, standing up, his armor creaking. He looked around, but his eyes were not adjusted to the darkness yet. He kept one hand near his sword hilt, just in case. Nothing could be heard besides a silent, steady hum in the background. In a few minutes, Glenn’s eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he could make out the forms of large box-like objects spread randomly in the area. He wandered around for a while, looking for a familiar exit of some kind, but found none.

                “There must be some way out of this place... and some way to find out where I am.” the knight muttered to himself, stopping to tie back his hair and keep it out of his face. Just after doing so, Glenn heard a soft creaking sound coming from near the other end of the dark area. He thought he could make out the form of something scurrying out of sight in the corner of his vision, and when he turned that way to see better, he noticed a shaft of light piercing the darkness. A shaft of light that came from a recently open door.

                “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” Glenn remarked to himself with a slight grin. “However, I wonder what it be that I saw...” But Glenn did not wish to sit and ponder in this dark, open space. An oppurtunity had been given to him to get out, and he rose up to take it.

                Quickly yet quietly, Glenn made his way to the door, and with equal swiftness exited the hold area. He did not notice earlier, but the thing that he had seen earlier was none other than a Nu--the same Nu that had stowed on the Tengu and was making its way toward the cell where Minako and Robo were being held.

 

 

* * * * *

 

                The two armored creatures had let go of Robo eventually, and were now acting as his “escorts.” Outside of the room where he and Minako were kept, there was a long, wide corridor lined with pipes and circuitry. It looked as if it were in a state of neglect or disrepair. There was some sort of lighting system--halogen, perhaps--on the ceiling and walls that kept the corridor bright. The sound of the ship’s systems was louder in the hall than it was in the room, Robo noted. And pieces of the ceiling were missing in several places. Like stated before, it was as if the ship were in neglect or disrepair of some sort.

                Robo marched forward, his metal-shod feet making clanking sounds as he walked. The Lavoids--Robo’s name for the strange aliens that resembled Lavos--walked at his pace as well, though their large, bird-like feet made hardly a sound. They did not talk while they walked with him, only stayed by his side to make sure that he did not attempt to escape. It seemed as if they were walking for hours down the same corridor, until the two Lavoids abruptly stopped. One of them took waved a hand over the wall beside him, and a keypad appeared. He (assuming it was a he) typed in a series of numbers, and a door materialized.

                The two Lavoids led Robo into the room, which was larger than the one he and Minako were in. This room was well lit, with what looked like large chairs and a computer that took up one of the walls. There were three more of the aliens inside the room, and another door to the side of the computer leading into yet another room.

                The two Lavoids that escorted Robo into the room brought him to sit in one of the chairs, stepped back and bowed to the others (and strangely enough, to Robo as well), and left the room. There was the sound of someone--human, by the sound of it--screaming as the two Lavoids exited the room. No sooner than they had left, two others entered the room, carrying in their arms between them a dark-skinned human male, bruised and bloodied, the person who was screaming. Robo was startled, and stood up from his seat to see the human whom the aliens had brought into the room.

                It was Utema.

 

Chapter Four

 

                Smoke, the smell of it saturated in the air. The sound of soft talking in various languages, of cubes of ice clinking in drinking glasses. The dark atmosphere, literally dark, the only light provided being several low-power flourescent lights on the ceiling. The senses of a tavern, a bar, a lounge.

                Coins clinking, inserted into an antique jukebox. The sound of them rolling into the slot like wheels tumbling down a hill. The click of a button, the droning mechanical sound of the machine selecting a seven inch. The fuzz of the speakers as the melody begins to play...

 

Olha que coisa mas linda

Mais cheia de graca

E ela menina que vem

e que passa

Num doce balanco

a caminho do mar...

 

                The soft, soothing tones of Jobim’s Bossanova filled the air of the seedy bar, the smooth Portuguese lyrics dampening the constant sounds of muttering and chatter. Rokan tilted his head back and closed his eyes, savoring the moment. He was seated on a bar stool, the others had opted for a table near the back. Madoshi has told him to wait at this bar for the escort, and that he did willingly. Rokan sighed, reciting over the lyrics in this mind, the Brazilian music calming him.

 

Moca do corpo dourado

do sol de Ipanema

O seu balancado e

mais que um poema

E a coisa mais linda

Que eu ja vi passar...

 

                Marle, Lucca, and Crono watched Madoshi’s servant from their table in the back. Crono, always the scrutinizer, peered over his mug of ale as he drank. Marle held the delicate glass of martini (a new-found name of drink to her) in her hand, taking a sip at regular intervals, the look on her pretty face a quizzical one. Lucca’s gaze strayed from area to area, pausing to rest on Rokan for a while... much to her emotional confusion. She took a gulp of her glass of what Rokan called bourbon, a strong, amber-colored whiskey, the ice cubes clinking against the glass as they floated on the surface of the drink.

 

Ah! Por que estou

tao sozinho?

Ah! Por que tudo

e tao triste?

Ah! A beleza que existe

A beleza que nao

e so minha

Que tambem passa sozinha...

 

                Marle took some time to absorb the new sights and sounds and smells. There were humans in this area, most paying attention to their drinks and cigars, others sitting and staring into nothing. There were some slender, tall elves, creatures Marle had never seen before, whom she thought existed only in stories she heard as a child. Short, stocky dwarves dressed in metalsmith garb were at one table, talking loud in their native tongue, laughing as they toasted their mugs of beer to each other. Still, there were stranger beings as well; bipedal lizard-men, blue-skinned human-like creatures, a whole melting pot of different entities. What nobody seemed to notice was why most all of the life forms were of the bipedal, humanoid type...

 

Ah! se ela soubesse

Que quando ela passa

O mundo sorrindo

Se enche de graca

E fica mais lindo

Por causa do amor...

 

                “I’ve waited too long,” said Crono over his mug, breaking the “silence” that they all shared. Without another word, he marched over to the stool where Rokan was seated. Marle decided to stand up and stretch her legs after a long wait, and left the table with Crono, leaving Lucca to herself.

                She took another drink of her liquor, looking over to where the others were at. Since the machine started to play music, she had been listening to the strange language it was sung in, trying to decipher it. Always the scientist, Lucca was fascinated by anything new. The episode earlier, in the Cursed Forest, was now but a dark memory in the back of her mind. She tilted her head in thought, her drink temporarily forgotten.

                “I told you, my employer told me to bring you people here, and that an escort will be sent shortly.” Rokan explained to an impatient Crono, absorbed in his drink and the music rather than the spiky-haired swordsman behind him.

                “It’s been almost two hours!” Crono said angrily. “Do you expect us to wait any longer?”

                Marle was more lenient. “Perhaps they ran into some unexpected difficulties, Crono.” she finished the last of her “martini” and placed the glass on the bar. “Let us wait a little while longer, then if no one has arrived, we shall be off, with or without an escort.” Marle motioned for her husband to follow her, and a rather dejected Crono sighed, letting her lead him back to the table.

                Rokan chuckled, taking a sip of his wine. “Wouldn’t make it far without an escort,” he said, not facing them. “Wouldn’t make it far at all... .ha!” Then, as the English part of the music came into play, he softly sang the words:

 

Tall and tan and young and lovely,

the Girl from Ipanema goes walking and

when she passes each one she passes goes a-a-a-h...

When she moves it's like a samba

that swings so smooth and sways so gently and

when she passes each one she passes goes a-a-a-h...

 

                Lucca paused from lifting the glass to her lips. This was a song she had never heard of or heard before in her life, a song not from her world. And yet, the words were decipherable. As clear as an unmuddied lake. Though words like “Ipanema” and “samba” were unfamiliar to her, she understood the lyrics perfectly. Was she the only one who did? Why did a song from another world use the same language as she and others spoke? Odd...

 

Oh--but he watches so sadly,

How--can he tell her he loves her

Yes--he would give his heart gladly

but each day when she walks to the sea

she looks straight ahead, not at he...

 

                Rokan remembered one time, back in his thieving days with Misato, when she and him had both infiltrated the mansion of an aristocrat who was throwing a party to show off one of his new aquisitions--what it was, Rokan still did not know. It was not their task to know. Their task was to slip into the party disguised as a couple invited, and later sneak into the aristocrat’s art gallery and steal a rather rare sculpture by a modern artist--Rokan still couldn’t remember the artist’s name. When they had done the deed, and were attempting to slip out of the party unnoticed, this song--the very song that was playing now--had started up, and they were both led, somehow, onto the dance floor. Needless to say, they had not been expecting this, but the song was so soothing, and the atmosphere romantic, that they could not help but to come together and dance...

 

Tall and tan and young and lovely,

the Girl from Ipanema goes walking and

when she passes each one she smiles but she doesn't see

she just doesn't see...

 

                Lucca, as scientific as always, was pondering the meaning of this.

                This song is not any I’ve heard in our world, our time, she thought, tapping her finger on the counter for a passerby human bartender to refill, which he did. It would appear that from Rokan as an example, most of us--no matter from what world or time--share the same or similar language. Lucca pushed up her glasses with her index finger, and sipped from her glass, the strange music permeating the atmosphere around her, puzzling her about the language it was sung in that she could understand. Hmm...

 

Oh--but he watches so sadly,

How--can he tell her he loves her

Yes--he would give his heart gladly

but each day when she walks to the sea

she looks straight ahead, not at he...

 

                The escort hadn’t showed up yet, Rokan noted. A little voice in the back of his mind was warning him of something going wrong, but the music and the memories he was reliving took all of his attention. He took another drink of his wine, and then suddenly stopped.

 

* * * * *

 

                The murder was silent. A hand clamped over the mouth and the blade drawn across the throat. Ancient and crude, but effective. Death came within seconds. The sounds of the city of Acheron muffled the sounds of the person’s untimely demise. In the shadowed alley where the murder took place, a dark mass covered the body. The disposing of the body commenced.

 

* * * * *

 

Turn the tourniquet

‘till I’m sick of it

see the other side

always overdrawn

feeling like a pawn

somebody died...

 

                Rokan shuddered, coming back to reality. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, and he shivered.

                Somebody died...

                He remembered that song. He had heard it long ago, and it was one of his favorites. But why did he think of it now? He had been enjoying the song that was still playing on the jukebox a few moments ago, but now... it wasn’t just the memory of the song that shook him. It was the feeling. Something was wrong...

                “Rokan.”

                The feeling of a hand clamping upon his shoulder and a voice speaking his name caused Rokan to start. He turned his head around swiftly, and saw someone familiar.

                “Glad you were so patient,” the escort said, a female garbed in black leather clothing, wearing an equally black overcoat and dark sunglasses. She patted him on the shoulder, giving a wry smile, her short, dark hair falling in front of her face. “Madoshi awaits.”

                Rokan was still a bit shaken from what he had experienced only seconds earlier. “Yeah,” he muttered, standing up from his stool, tossing a few coins onto the table as a tip. “Let’s move out.”

                Marle saw Rokan motion toward them. She lightly elbowed Crono in the ribs, finishing up her drink. Lucca noted this and stood up, walking toward Rokan, silently brooding over the whole situation. Crono took the elbow to his ribs with a grunt, leaving his drink behind on the table and standing up. The three of them met up with Rokan and another woman, whom Rokan said was the escort from Madoshi.

                Outside of the bar, the companions seemed to lighten up a bit. The air in the city, though not exactly of the most pleasant scent, was a damn well better smell than it was in the seedy little tavern. Too many alien sounds, smells, and sights. Too much input on things never seen before. It had given Marle a headache just looking around the place.

                Rokan’s black leather boots sloshed dirty water around as he nonchalantly stepped in several puddles. He and the others were following the escort through asphalt streets illuminated by electric and gaseous lighting.

                “So, where’s the car?” asked Rokan. He lifted up a hand to push up his shades, realizing then that his shades were broken, lost in the battle with that... thing earlier. Instead, he brushed back his short, wiry blond hair, wiping sweat onto his shirt.

                The escort turned her head back to look at him, not faltering in her steps a bit. “There is no car,” she said, her expression unreadable behind those dark sunglasses she wore. “There weren’t any to be spared. I was given orders to collect you and the other three, and lead you to your destination.”

                Rokan lifted an eyebrow in confusion. He could’ve sworn that a wehicle was going to be brought, according to Madoshi. He thought of his sudden though earlier in the bar.. and then dismissed it with a swift shake of his head.

                I’m letting all this get to me, he thought. Too fuckin’ jumpy nowdays, I am...

                “So how long does it take to get wherever we’re going?” came Crono’s voice from beside him. In his musings, Rokan hadn’t paid attention to where he was going. The escort walked briskly several yards before him, and Crono, Lucca, and Marle were not around him.

                Rokan sighed, wincing as a trickle of sweat made its way into the fresh scar on his face, made from the thing that he had tried to fight earlier in the forest. “About half an hour, if I remember correctly. Give or take a few minutes. Ease up, man.” he said, too lazy to look at who he was speaking to. “We’ll get there. Speaking of which...”

                Crono’s gaze followed Rokan as the man jogged several yards to catch up with the escort, and began to fiddle with an object he retrieved from his pocket. Nothing more could be seen from where Crono was.

                “Shouldn’t we catch up?” asked Lucca.

                “We might lose them,” stated Marle, keeping an eye on the distance between them and the other two.

                Crono peered at Rokan, now a good distance from them, but still in his sight. The man was still absorbed in whatever he was doing with the device he had.

                “Nah. Let’s just follow. No sense in wasting energy to catch up.” he said, though as he did, he felt that something was wrong indeed...

 

* * * * *

 

                Rokan was now far enough away from the three, and a good distance from the escort, who led them through streets and alleways. However, he did not pay too much attention to the scenery of Acheron. He remembered something, and was glad that he did: the communicator. That was why he suddenly kept a distance from the other three. Popping open the cel-phone-like device, he pressed a few buttons and waited, a green light flashing on the communicator. The light stoppe flashing, turned solid green, and sputtering, staticy hologram the size of his arm formed. It was Madoshi. The master’s expression was devoid of anything, as far as Rokan could tell.

                “How is it proceeding?” Madoshi said, his familiar voice distorted by the speaker on the communicator.

                “Going as planned, so far.” said Rokan, keeping the device in front of him, taking care not to reveal anything to the others. The escort was keeping her brisk pace, clearing paths for them, unknowing or uncaring of the conversation taking place behind her. “Though I wish you’d have brought a vehicle or something. Hurts my damn feet, walking so much.”

                “I did send for a transport,” said Madoshi warily. “I detailed you on where it would be, remember?”

                “Yeah, you did.” said Rokan, looking down on the hologram of Madoshi, clothed in a flowing black leather coat, dark shades, his long hair tied back behind him, the ponytail draped over his shoulder. “Only it didn’t show up. Waited in the god-awful bar for hours and finally your escort shows up.” Though there WAS good music playin’ there...

                  

* * * * *

 

                Madoshi stood inside of his personal office, looking at the life-size hologram of his right-hand man, listening to what he told of the mission he was given.

                “Escort?” he said, his deep, almost whispering voice seeming loud in the vacant room. But he did not care.

                There was a pause, the hologram flickered. “Yeah, the girl in black leather. We’re on our way right now, to let you know.”

                Madoshi said nothing. He had sent for a transport, driven by one of his retainers, but there was no female escort. And Rokan had said that he and the other three were forced to make the journey on foot.

                “Wait. Turn off the hologram.”

                Rokan did, and his image was gone form the room, only sound left on the communicator, coming from speakers located in the small room.

                Giving the command, Madoshi then lowered his head and closed his eyes, placing his hands together in a praying manner, channeling the magic through his mind. An image of Acheron soared beneath him, giving a bird’s-eye view of the sprawling wonder of technology. A red, pulsating dot was in one part of the city, and Madoshi focused on it. There was Rokan, the escort... and the Three.

                In the wrong sector of the city...

                Quickly, Madoshi focused on the escort that Rokan had described. The image of a young woman, somwhat hazy, even in his mind’s eye. In the room, his hands reached out, and made a parting motion. The haze surrounding this person vanished, replaced with--

                Oh, shit!

               

* * * * *

 

                “Eh? What was that?” Rokan said, tapping the communicator with his finger before putting in over his ear again. “I couldn’t catch ya. Must be some interference from where we are.” Static hissed, and a few more words were made out.

                “I said ge--” the rest was droned out with static. The light on the device flashed twice, and the power went out from it. Frowning, Rokan closed and pocketed the communicator, paying attention to the escort and where she was taking them.

                Or where she was not. The sounds of the city seemed far away, even though they were clearly within the walls of it. There were much fewer sentients than there were before, and from the looks of it, Crono, Lucca, and Marle were wondering the same thing.

                “Where the hell are we?”

                The escort stopped suddenly, her coat whipping in the sudden wind, turning around to face them. She seemed too cool, collected, and something about her posture indicated that she knew something the others didn’t.

                “Where indeed...” she said in her smooth, sexy voice, her slender fingers brushing away strands of jet-black hair, removing the shades from her face. Her eyes were dark, the pupils dilated.

                She hissed, an unerathly sound, and raised her arms. It seemed as her body melted into a puddle, only to re-emerge again as something different. What was left behind became clear: a face deviod of orifices, two blood-red eyes narrowed in anger; sleek, coal black skin, devoid of clothing; gangly arms and legs that were far more powerful than they looked; brittle, swept back hair; sharp claws on the hands and feet--the very form of a race known as Shapeshifters.

                The Shapeshifter clenched her fists, her chest rising and falling as she breathed.

                “Your journey ends with your death,” she said, using a mockery of the voice she had used from her human host. Her eyes focused on Rokan. “The traitor and the others will die.”

                Rokan was spitting out curse after curse in his mind, unarmed. He wished that he’d have kept his gun when he dropped it in the forest... he had the other with him, but he was not sure they could hold up long enough against a Shapeshifter--they have been able to take out entire squads of gunmen--twenty or more of them--without taking a single hit. Those bastards were fast. And the whole time since the creature made itself known, a single name, the explanation for this, was going through his head.

                Shin. Somehow, he found he out... shit! Two years of playing the servant for him and he finds out at last...

                While Rokan stood there, seemingly frozen with shock, the others were not as taken aback. Lucca wasted no time. She unholstered a 9mm handgun she had taken with her when she first arrived in this strange realm, and fired at the creature. So fast that it seemed slow, the being spread itself out as if it were jelly, forming itself into a hoop, and the bullet whizzed right through it.

                With equal speed, the thing was able to melt back into a puddle, rush to Lucca, and reform just as quickly, a clawed hand disarming her and slicing her stomach.

                “Lucca!”

                Crono jumped to push her aside just in time, taking the worser half of the slash. The thing... it had meant to disembowel her. Luckily, it failed to do so to him too, even though he took the rest of the claw swipe.

                “C’mon...” Marle said softly, her crossbow loaded and raised. Crono and Lucca were by her, and Lucca needed to be healed, but she did not want to let that creature get away with what it did. Maybe she could get it when Lucca wasn’t able to...

                With a twang, the crossbow fired, Marle holding it steadily and surely. The Shapeshifter was not looking in her direction since after the attack of Lucca. The steel bolt whizzed through the air, a sleek, unfeathered razor-sharp shaft honed in on its target. The creature turned her head around from where she was standing, ready to dodge, yet it was too late. The metal arrow struck her in the forehead, causing the creature’s head to jerk back. She fell to the ground, unmoving.

                “Got you...” said Marle, her voice as cold as ice. She holstered her crossbow, tending to Lucca and Crono’s wound. They were not very deep, but would require a few minutes of tending to with magic. Rokan was still frozen in what seemed like shock, looking at the fallen body near him, the Shapeshifter.

                We’re safe... he thought. Then, like a ton of bricks, the reality hit him. No. Shin is powerful, he wouldn’t send someone this weak to finish me off... it occured to him that the creature had attacked Lucca. But didn’t Shin want them alive? Perhaps it was a mistake...

                Suddenly, he heard a light metallic clang. Jumping at the sound of it, Rokan whirled around...

                Where the hell are we? It should be noisy, even here. It IS a city, after all...

                  ...and saw the Shapeshifter up and on its legs. With her red eyes burning with anger, she grasped at the metal bolt that was lodged in between her eyes, and yanked. The bolt came out easily, with no mark revealing its entry. She tossed it aside, the projectile clattering against the asphalt road.

                Rokan looked frantically around for a weapon--any weapon. He spotted, in a pile of garbage, some shards of broken glass. Thinking himself crazy for utilizing it, but remembering that he had utilized stranger things in his previous line of work, he picked up a large, sharp piece of glass.

                The Shapeshifter had locked its gaze on Marle, who was healing Crono and Lucca, both of them on the ground and unable to fight. With incredible speed, the creature again melted into a puddle, and launched itself into the air toward the three. Right as it did so, its form began to change again, taking the likeness of a blade, hardening parts of its alien body into an edge.

                Marle frantically tried to get everyone to move, but they were still wounded, and would not. She thought it would be all over until she heard a yell, and saw--

                “Rokan? What the hell are you trying to do?!”

                With a cry, Rokan was running into the path of the shapeshifter, her form still a blade, rushing toward the three, intent on killing them all. He knelt down on one knee, raising his hands, and as the being was almost close enough to split him and the others in two, he slashed downward, a huge piece of glass in his hand. The Shapeshifter hit the glass, and split into two clean halves, both of the clanking to the ground.

                However, that didn’t stop it. The two halves of the being snapped back together, melting in the process, and formed her body again.

                “Oh shit...” Rokan breathed.

                “I will kill you now.” the being stated, extending an arm at amazing speed. She grabbed Rokan by the throat from a distance, and lifted his body into the air. Her eyes narrowed as she tightened her grip. Her prey was struggling frantically, his hands grasping at the one around his throat.

                Rokan could hear strange words being chanted. As he struggled to stay alive, he realized that it was Marle, preparing to cast some sort of spell. But he could feel his strength giving away every second. His vision seemed to get hazier with each attempted breath...

                ...and then black lightning struck in the sky above them.

                 The Shapeshifter looked up, suprised. Her grip on Rokan relaxed, but did not waver. Above her, black lightning was crackling. And not in the manner of regular lightning. It was more like a field of electricity, as if someone had torn a power cable and set it into a pool of water. And then...

                Space itself had shifted, and ripped.

                A hole had been torn in the heavens. Within it was a swirling blue void, out of which something fell out of. The creature was too transfixed with the whole event to notice the thing plummeting toward her.

                SMACK!

                The Shapeshifter’s body collapsed upon itself as the thing fell upon her with a loud crack. She released Rokan, who fell to the ground, gasping for breath. He had heard things going on, but was unable to see anything. And still, he was too exhausted to see anything else, only the sky he was staring at as he lay on the ground. Suddenly, something made its way into his clouded vision.

                “Okay?”

                Rokan could make out a vague female form. He tried to say something, but no words came out.

                The woman shook her head. “Not okay. I help.”

                He felt himself being lifted up into the air by strong, slender arms. He could smell animal fur and sweat, and felt long hair as he was strung over a shoulder. Being carried by this woman seemed to speed up his healing process. His vision cleared, and Rokan could see, from where he was slung across the woman’s shoulder, the collapsed form of the Shapeshifter. Must’ve landed on her hard, he thought. There was no sign of life from the being.

                “Ayla? Is that you?”

                Marle’s spell was interrupted when she saw what was definetly a Gate being formed above her target. She had seen a humanoid shape fall from the portal and crash into the creature’s body, collapsing it. After the person got up, she could see it better. There was no mistaking the long blond hair and the skimpy animal fur bikini, along with a fur cloak as well.

                Rokan was being whirled around as his carrier was as well. He noticed an ecstatic Marle, standing next to the now-resting Crono and Lucca. He could feel soft skin and the hard muscle behind it on his face, and then became aware of his present position. Nervously, he realized that his head was resting against stomach muscle, and he could see a bare, shapely leg when he looked down.

                Ulp.

                “Marle! You here too! Sign of good luck!” Ayla yelled, rushing toward Marle. Too late that Rokan realized he was about to be sandwiched.

                Still with Rokan over her shoulder, Ayla gave Marle a crushing embrace.

                “Ack! That’s a little tight...” Marle gasped, and the cavegirl let her go. “Ayla! How on Earth did you get here?”

                “Long story! Tell later--oops, poor boy.” Ayla said, stepping back to reveal a squashed Rokan.

                “Ghee...” was his only reply.

                “Ugh...” came Lucca’s voice as she sat up from where she had been lying down. “What happened...?”

                Marle rushed toward her and (still sleeping) Crono. “Hold on! I haven’t even had the chance to heal you guys yet!” she said, noting how Lucca was clutching at her bleeding midsection. Marle knelt down and places her hands on Lucca, closing her eyes. Blue light shimmered from where her hands touched Lucca, and then she stepped back.

                “There. Now, please don’t move too much for the next hour or so.” and with a smile, she cast the same spell on Crono. “Same goes for you, big guy...”

                Ayla, still with Rokan slung over her shoulder, was looking around the area. She sniffed the air, and her nose wrinkled. Going to the fallen body of the creature she had landed on, she knelt down to get a better look at its coal-black, strangely shaped body.

                “What this? Strange, but woman too. Hmm...” she said to herself. Rokan took the opportunity to wriggle out of her strong arms and fall on the street. His head was a little woozy, but other than that he felt better. He stood up and brushed himself off.

                “So why are you here, Ayla?” came Lucca’s question, spoken from where she was sitting on the ground.

                “Oh, long story, but good! Ayla go to hunting ground--hunting bad, no much animals left--and learn of strange creature there!”

                “Strange creature?” came Marle’s confused voice.

                Ayla nodded. “Big, fat, blue. No much hair, thin arms and legs.”

                “A Nu...?” Lucca figured it out.

                “Correct.” came a different voice.

                Everyone’s head turned, and saw, standing in the shadow of a building several meters away from them, a tall male figure that seemingly appeared from nowhere. The figure stepped out of the shadow, and everyone got a good view of him.

                The man was wearing the crisp, clean business-like suit, all in jet-black, including the shirt he wore underneath and the gloves on his hands. His long, black hair was not tied back by any way, flowing down his back in a suprisingly neat fashion. His face was rather gaunt, with sunken cheekboned and arched eyebrows. His eyes were yellow of color...

                 The man pointed out his finger toward the group, and made a come here gesture.

                “Rokan.” he said.

                Everyone’s head turned when the name was uttered. Some faces were marked by confusion. Crono’s was marked by anger. Rokan noticed all this as he slowly walked away from the group, toward the person. He stood there for several seconds until the man let out an amused chuckle.

                “So, it seems that my servant did end up having things done my way, after all.” the man said, hands in the pockets of his expensive black suit. The sarcasm inserted into the word servant was noticed by some of the others. But not Crono.

                “Traitor,” the spiky-haired boy hissed.

                “You should know by now that I never was your servant,” Rokan dictated to the man menacingly. “And I don’t remember anywhere in your orders that the others needed to be killed!”

                The man stood there, hands in pockets. “Ah yes, a little change of plans, Rokan my boy. It seems that I need them to be dead, here and now. They are too dangerous to my plan to be left alive.” with that said, the man walked over to the fallen body of the Shapeshifter and looked down upon it.

                “That’s what I love about these creatures,” he said, kneeling down and grasping hold of the creature’s neck. “They have no skeleton, and therefore, something like being flattened won’t stop them.” with that said, the Shapeshifter’s eyes flared red, and she pulled herself up to a standing position, taller than the man yet compliant to his wishes.

                Rokan stepped back from the man. “I am NOT your servant, Shin!” he said. “Nor will I ever be! The only one I serve is Madoshi.”

                At that name, the man named Shin sneered. “You disgrace me even further, human scum. I did not think that you would be working for that... thorn in my side.” Shin’s face then settled into an amused grin. “But you have still served my purpose, and now I know that I have thwarted his plans.”

                Shin raised his arms, and screamed something unintelligable. Suddenly, from all over the ground before him, the dead began to rise, in various types of decay. All of them stood compliant with their ressurector, until a veritable army was amassed.

                “Didn’t think there so many dead...” Ayla muttered, in awe of the spectacle.

                “Hmm?” Shin noticed the cave-girl. “My plans mention nothing about... whoever you are.” he said, almost as if he were annyoyed. “You are a nuisance, a hindrance to my plans. Die.”

                WIth that command, a spear of dark energy was hurtled toward Ayla. It pierced her in the midsection, and she cried out as it ripped through her and continued on its mindless path. Ayla stood there, gasping, clutching the bleeding hole in her stomach. She locked her eyes with Shin’s, and gave him a determined, angry stare.

                “So you are stronger than I thought, whoever you are.” he said as if amused, yet clearly he was not. He was seething in anger, and it seemed as if he was... frightened by the fact that his attack was not fatal.

                “Very well then, I’ll just finish you off.” Shin dictated, another spear of dark energy forming in his hand. The dead he had raised began to shuffle slowly toward the group as he prepared to throw the spear. “You will all die here, and nothing shall get in my way again.”

                He cast the spear...

                ...which struck an invisible barrier on Ayla and crumbled into nothingness.

                Shin’s eyes narrowed in anger, but he just smiled.

                “All right, you nuisance, come on out, there’s no use in hiding... or do you fear me that much?”

                Materializing next to the wounded cave-girl was a tall and slender man, wearing a black leather trenchcoat, black gloves, and boots. His skin was rather pale, and his ears were pointed. The mysterious stranger’s eyes were obscured by a pair of dark sunglasses, and his long blue hair was tied back into a ponytail which was draped over his shoulder.

                “I do not fear you, and I never did.” said the stranger, folding his arms. “Stop this fruitless attack, you know that you cannot do anything while I am around.”

                Shin exploded with anger. “Shut up, you pointy-eared FREAK! I will not be intimidated by you!” then, as if reprimanding himself for bursting like that, he forced himself to settle down, grinning instead of showing anger. “Besides, you cannot use your powers here, I know that for a fact, Madoshi...”

                The stranger named Madoshi said nothing, his eyes unreadable behind those dark shades. Instead, he snapped his fingers, and from almost every concievable shadow, window, and alley, armed warriors emerged. There were humans and non-humans alike, each armed with whatever they had; sword or gun, it made no difference.

                Crono, Lucca, Marle and Rokan stood there in confusion, not sure what was going on but sure that this stranger named Madoshi was on their side... at least for the time being.

                “I still don’t trust you!” Crono hissed to Rokan, unsheathing his katana. “How do we know that you haven’t led us into a trap?”

                Rokan just shook his head. “You should have been able to figure it out by now. I don’t really work for Shin.” he then sighed. “I wish I had a weapon...”

                “Then here you go,” came Lucca’s pretty voice. She reached into her pockets and retrieved a small handgun, which she tossed to the ratty looking “guide”.

                Rokan chuckled, and made sure that the tiny gun was loaded. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers...”

                “Crono, let’s focus on getting ourselves out of this mess alive.” Marle said, bringing up her crossbow. “Stop blaming Rokan and let’s use this squabble going on to get us away from whoever this Shin person is... Crono! Are you even listening?”

                The spiky-haired boy was peering intently at Madoshi. “I’m sure I’ve seen him somewhere before...”

                Ayla, still in pain from her deep wound, looked up at the person who saved her.

                “Ugh... hurts. Hey...? You blue hair one, I remember yummy frog talk about. You more tasty?”

                Madoshi looked down at her and gave her a slight grin.

                “Thank you for showing up, Ayla. Believe it or not, I actually owe you for that.”

                Ayla had a sudden revelation, as well as Crono, Lucca, and Marle.

                “That’s it! I remember!” they all said in unison. “You’re--”

                But before they could say the identity of Madoshi, the battle started, and chaos ensued.

 

Chapter Five

               

                The world, a dark, metallic world, opened up before her eyes.

                Or at least, that what it seemed like. Minako’s optic sensors glowed yellow as she looked around. Her memory returned almost instantly. She had been shot by one of those alien guards, she remembered. Right before she had gone out, there was a little blue creature coming toward her...

                Minako then became aware of the presence of an entity beside her, violating her metallic body, wires inserted into it, wires that somehow made their way through her unbreakable body, supplying her with energy lost from being shot earlier. Turning her head, she could almost get a glimpse of the... the Nu through her vision blocked by the thin strands of her own metallic hair.

                “Ah...” she spoke, her sentient robotic mind full of questions, emulating human curiosity and wonder. The Nu turned around, revealing not only its blank, wide face but also a small machine it was apparently manipulating, the wires from it the same ones in her body.

                Creation... creation, are you awake?

                Minako’s eyes flashed yellow. This Nu actually talked! Or so she thought until she saw the machine again. The being was somehow manipulating the device with his mind alone, for on a small monitor on the machine, the exact words he had said were typed. The wires in her body were transferring the words he “typed” into her positronic brain so she could hear them. 

                It will only take a little longer, creation. You will be fully repaired in just a few more minutes.

                Her eyes narrowed in anger, or so it seemed.

                “Stop calling me that. I have a name. Minako.”

                The Nu looked blankly toward her, still engaged in manipulating the machine that was repairing her. It blinked.

                ...very well then. Minako. You will be repaired soon. I need your help.

                She read the Nu’s words that scrolled across the monitor, her mind engaged in a human process that she was all too familiar with now: thinking.

                “Okay. What do you want with me?”

 

* * * * *

 

                Like it or not, he was forced to leave his heavy metal armor behind in the area where he came from. Only the reassuring feeling of hs sword in its scabbard remained, the weapon attached by a chain to his belt. Glenn, quite skilled in the arts of stealth though he preferred, as a knight, not to use them, made his way around the dark, metal corridors of this strange new area he was ushered into. His mind was an array of half-eaten questions and inquiries that would probably never be answered. Why was he here? How did he get here? Why did the Nu...?

                He heard some unidentifiable sounds from around the corner of the dark metal hall he was in. Footsteps. Talking? Sounds more like grating metal. The noises were getting closer and closer. Frantically, Glenn searched his surrounding. Above him was a mass of what looked like pipes and thick wires. He jumped, hoping his physical training back in his soldier days had not been in vain. A hand grasped at one of the think, insulated wires, and Glenn pulled himself up. Finding a comfortable position, he slowed his breathing and waited. Two humaniod shadows showed up against the wall he was facing in the hall. Soon, the sources of the shadows came into light.

                It was a twisted sense of deja vu. Glenn almost lost his hiding place when he lost his grip in suprise, and almost blurted out something unintelligable. His mind was racing, he thought his sanity was at an end.

                It can’t be! Those... those are... Lavos?!

                As if called for, one of the Lavos creatures looked up. They looked just like Glenn remembered them: the final form of Lavos, a humanoid creature in strange armor that concealed all but its arms, legs, and part of its torso.

                The creature made a frightening sound, and the other one looked up. Both aimed their hands up, palms open. Energy began to build up.

                Faster than he could even think out his actions, Glenn’s instincts kicked in. He dropped, landing feet-first on the first creature’s shoulders. It collapsed. With the hilt of his sword, he gave a solid punch to the other creature’s stomach. It made a strange sound, then collapsed as well.

                Glenn’s mind and pulse were racing. He looked around the corner, listened for a while, and, when hearing and seeing no other of the creatures, he ran down the hallway that the creatures had come from. He wanted answers. And he was going to get them. Now.

 

* * * * *

 

                “Captain!” Robo shouted. he stood up from the chair than the alien creatures had made him sit on. Utema was cut in several areas, bleeding from various wounds. On a closer analysis, the wounds turned out to be from what looked like partial exposure to the freezing vaccum of outer space. Luckily, he had not had too much exposure, else his veins would be exposed everywhere and he would rememble a patchwork map of hell.

                Utema’s eyes, previously tightly chut, opened up upon hearing his rank and title. He looked toward Robo, squinting his eyes, spitting out blood.

                “Captian, sir! We thought you were lost!”

                Utema’s eyes opened wide. It was as if all the qiestions in his mind erupted forth.

                “What happened?! Where am I?! Where are my crew?!? Death screams... they were fucking torn apart! How the hell did it happen?! ANSWER ME!!”

                One of the aliens produced a hypodermic needle from nowhere, holding it carefully in its strange, large hands and then swiftly injected its contents into Utema’s arm. The captain, still screaming, flailed around madly for a minute, then stopped, falling limply into the strong grip of the aliens. The alien creatures brought the limp form of the captain to the chair Robo was sitting in, and placed him there, tying the man’s hands behind his back. Swiftly, they procured, again from nowhere, a machine that looked like some type of medical apparatus. Which it really was, judging how the aliens hooked it up to the captain’s body, inserting tubes and needles, placing patches on bleeding areas.

                “Captain,” Robo said softly. “Don’t strain yourself.”

                “All dead...” Utema muttered, in a daze, while the aliens hooked his body up to the medical machine.

                Another machine was brought in and left in the care of the two beings. While one of them slaved away with the medical machine connected to Utema, the other began to connect the machine to Robo, who stared blankly as the alien opened various parts of his mechanical body and connected wires and other unknown devices to his insides.

 

 

* * * * * 

 

                “...so, you can’t do everything on your own, can you?” Minako remarked, testing out her joint flexibility and running a program to check her body for viral or mechanical problems.

                The Nu bobbed its head--rather, its body--once in confirmation.

                Minako sighed, something she had picked up from humans a while ago. “Fine, I owe you for this repair after all.” Her program completed, and there were no problems with her system.

                “However, I want to know why you’re withholding so much information from me.”

                That, I cannot say, said the Nu. However, if we accomplish the task I have set for you to help me with, then maybe I will explain.

                “All right, so I’ll try and protect you so we can get to the flight control room,” Minako said, tossing aside with her hand a few strands of black metallic hair. “But why do you need my help, if you say that you’re so powerful?”

                The Nu blinked once. These beings aboard this ship... even I am not a match for them all, and just one of them would be a hard battle for me. So, I’ll need you to provide backup. Plus, you are a creation--I mean, robot--so you’ll be able to interface with the ship’s computer.

                Minako pretended to crack her knuckles, a human habit she had picked up along with a slew of others, even though she had no knuckles.

                “All right. Let’s do it.”

                The two, after checking the corners behind the door to the room they were in, quietly made their way down one fork of the hall.

                After the two had left, from the other fork of the hall came a human wearing ancient armor and carrying an equally ancient sword by his side in a scabbard.

                Glenn brushed his green-tinged hair from his brow as he swiftly moved, amazingly keeping quiet while he snuck through the passegways of the ship. He saw what looked like a tall, lean human female in a one-piece blue suit and one of those.... creatures next to her.

                “Another Nu...” he mused silently. Nu and Lavos, both on the same ship. Nothing could bode good with omens like these. With determination in his eyes, Glenn silently followed at a distance the girl and the Nu, making sure that he was not seen, hoping that the... the Lavos would not come again.

 

* * * * *

 

                Though the language of the strange, sentient creatures was utterly foreign to him, Robo could see what looked like words appearing on a monitor hooked up to a machine, which was hooked up to him through a series of wires.

                The two aliens were there, one manipulating the machine and the other apparently trying to speak with Robo, motioning with a large, four fingered avian-like hand toward the monitor. Utema was asleep, the medical machine beside him running, patching him up on the inside and out, as the sedative drug was taking effect.

                The first creature, the one in front of Robo, uttered something that sounded like tzzrtzzrtzzak, and looked toward the screen along with Robo. A few symbols of what looked like written language appeared on the screen, but it was unreadable. The creature said something to the second one, who replied and typed something on a keypad.

                Suddenly, without warning, it came. The words on the monitor, transferred from the alien language into one Robo could understand. Not a greeting, but an inquiry. And a rather strange one, at that.

                HOW DID YOU ARRIVE HERE?

 

* * * * *

 

                In the ship’s hold ,the same area where Glenn had emerged from earlier, another gate appeared in the air. Crackling lightning formed a circle containing a blue void, from which two large mechanical objects fell to the metal ground with a loud crack. Two human forms fell out of the void as well, landing on their feet.

                Eventually, the two stood up and one viewing the scene could see that the two were men clad in what seemed to be large, complicated armor that seemed too out of place to be considered anachronistic or futuristic. Each man went to one of the two machines that fell out before them, and with some effort, managed to stand them upright. The machines were what appeared to be large, hulking bipedal armored carriers equipped with massive amounts of weaponry.

                “Wha… what happened?” the first of the two people asked.

                The other seemed to be less phased by the strange event that just took place.

                “Damn. Both mechs are not functioning….” He retrieved from within his thick breastplate a pack of rolled cigarettes, two of which he lit, offering one to the other person while he puffed away furiously on one of them. Reluctantly, as if considering something, the second person accepted the lit cigarette and took a drag of it, exhaling smoke which trailed up into the darkness of the ship’s hold.

                “So where the hell are we?” the second person asked. The first, constantly in a state of smoke exhalation, replied after tinkering with his armored walking suit.

Vicks never seemed to be able to quit the habit, Wedge mused.

                “Dunno. Ah, shit. Mine’s out of commission. Don’t know about yours… might be the same as mine.”

                After a quick check, it was found out that Wedge’s armored walker was non-functional, as well. Vicks cursed, taking another puff of his coffin nail. Those walkers were working fine when he and Wedge marched into the empty streets of Narshe with that sorcerer girl in the lead…

                Suddenly, it hit him.

                “Wait a minute… weren’t we just in the Narshe mines?” asked the Vicks.

                Wedge nodded with a slight smile. “Of course we were. I seem to be the only one who realized that we were somewhere else.”

                Vicks ignored the insult. “But I remember something happening, I remember the girl and the Esper communicating or something, and then it glowed, and after that…”

                “We end up here, wherever the hell ‘here’ is.” Wedge finished the sentence.

                Vicks studies his surroundings, which consisted of a large, dark empty space made of metal, a few large boxes standing out hauntingly in the distance. There was a stream of light coming from an open door to their left, providing enough light to enable the two to see their surroundings.

                Wedge watched as his friend walked around the area, checking the boxes in the distance, a trail of smoke revealing Vicks’s location in the darkness. He was thinking of where the two of them have been transported to suddenly, thinking of the locations that would make sense. Possibly somewhere in Vector, the Imperial Capital. Maybe they were inside a warehouse right now. The atmosphere of the place seemed to confirm that, but still Wedge didn’t think that the solution was that simple. What the hell even happened to them to bring them to a place like this?

                “Oi, Wedge,” his partner’s voice came from a few yards away. Vicks was walking toward him, carrying what looked like a bunch of cubes in his arms. Behind him, one of the large boxes was open.

                “I was looking around for clues, and inside one of these crates, there were these.” He tossed to Wedge a few of the cubes. “I don’t know what these are, but they really seem to resemble the bio-fuel power cells that give energy to our Magitek Armor. Maybe we should try them out.

                Wedge took one of the cubes, and studied it closely. Unlike the Esper fuel they used to power anything made by Magitek Co., these energy cells were a rainbow of swirling colors that seemed to react to every touch of the hand. Strangely enough, they were just about the right size to be used by their Armored Walkers. Wedge tried one out by placing it in the fuel cell area of the Magitek Armor. Sure enough, it fit perfectly. The machine began to hum, and lights on it flashed as it started working.

                Vicks tossed away his cigarette stub, crushed it with his boot, and lit up another one.

                “Okay, so we can get our machines working again, but where the hell are we? Shouldn’t one of us go and scout or something?”

                    Wedge had inserted a fuel cell into Vicks’s Magitek Armor. As the machine booted up to life, he answered his friend and comrade.

                “I suppose you want me to go and do it, eh?”

                Vicks shook his head vigorously, cigarette clamped in his teeth. “No, man, I’ll be right behind you! Trust me!” and to justify the statement, he retrieved from his Armored Walker a standard Imperial Army automatic rifle, to which he attached a bayonet while whistling cheerfully, sending puffs of smoke up to the ceiling of the area. After doing so, he spat out the cigarette, stamping it out with his foot.

                Wedge retrieved his rifle as well, though he kept the bayonet knife in a sheath at his side.

                “Right behind me… heh. Well, you’ve never left me for the dogs before, Vicks, so I guess I can trust you still.”

                Vicks removed his helmet and untied his ponytail, letting his shoulder length hair fall to his shoulders, matted with sweat. He lit up another cigarette, and offered one to Wedge, who hadn’t even finished his first one. The offer was promptly refused.

                Wedge had taken off his own helmet, but kept his hair tied back to keep it out of his way. He scratched his chin, checked to make sure his rifle was loaded, and looked back to make sure his younger partner was behind him. Sure enough, Vicks was there, puffing away at his cigarette, of which he had many, since they were generously included in the soldier rationing.

                “I swear, Vicks, you’re gonna die young from those fucking things.”

                Vicks simply grinned. “Lead the way, pops.”

                The two soldiers of the Imperial Army of Vector softly and silently walked out of the large area, entering a long hallway draped with shadows created by malfunctioning lighting. Any situation was adaptable for them. Any. Or so they thought…

 

* * * * *

 

        HOW DID YOU GET HERE? The message read on the monitor. One of the aliens attached a small microphone connected to the monitor near Robo’s voice box speaker.

        Robo had other things he wanted to inquire about. He spoke, asn his words were transferred to alien writing on the monitor:

        “Who, or what, are you?”

        The aliens looked at the screen, their faces unable to be seen, studying it intensely. After a while, they used the keyboard, and the same message scrolled across the screen:

        HOW DID YOU GET HERE?

        Robo saw that these creatures had other things on their mind, and were not looking to learn anything about their prisoners. However, he once again pressed for the information he sought:

        “I will tell you that if you tell me who you are.”

        After seeing the translated words, the alien using the keyboard device slowly typed its response:

        THERE IS NO NAME, NOR A CLASSIFICATION. WE HAVE NONE. FOR CLARIFICATION’S SAKE, HOWEVER, YOU CAN CALL US LAVOS, THE NAME YOU DUBBED ONE OF OUR OPERATIVES.

        Robo’s interest was seized. “Operatives? Do you mean to say that your operative is the destroyer of Earth, Lavos?”

        The Lavos looked at each other, and what was exchanged in those glances was unknown. The alien used the keyboard again.

        ANSWER OUR QUESTION. HOW DID YOU GET HERE, ON OUR SHIP?

        Robo scanned his memory banks, and what he came upon would have made him shudder with fear if he were a human. As a robot, all he could do was shake his head and think of how horrible the sight was… how the crew members died under those hurried, strange circumstances…

        “Something malfunctioned… we were investigating an anomaly, a black hole, and then our ship was hit, and then the crew…”

        The alien paused for a second after Robo spoke. AN ANOMALY, YOU SAY?

        “Yes.” Robo said.

        Another pause. THE CREW? YOU WERE ON A MILITARY EXPIDITION?

        “No, it was purely scientific… but operating procedures required that we take military personnel.”

        Exchanges made with the other Lavos. AND SOMETHING HAPPENED TO THEM, YOU SAY?

        Robo made a sigh, a strange sound coming from him, a robot, who could not feel the one human emotion called fear.

        “They were attacked by something. I’m not sure what it was, really. In fact, I could not see it. It ripped one person in half, and tore the throat out of another before the hull was breached and the rest of the crew died from explosive decompression.”

        BEFORE THIS HAPPENED, YOU WERE INVESTIGATING THE ANOMALY, CORRECT?

        “Yes.”

        The Lavos exchanged something in their strange language for a moment.

        THEN HOW DID YOU END UP ON OUR SHIP?

        Robo explained what else he remembered.

        “After the incident of the hull being breached, the female android and I, along with the expedition leader,” Robo motioned to Utema, who was still being healed by the medical machinery. “who was wearing a pressure suit, all of us were brought into the anomaly. Sucked right in. My memory banks have not recorded what happened after that, except when Minako—that is, the female android—and I ended up in the room, and then two of your race came to retrieve me.”

        The Lavos exchanged glances again.

        Robo decided to ask the questions this time.

        “Now, what did you mean by ‘operative?’ Is that what you refer to the Lavos who almost destroyed our world? What are you beings, exactly?”

        DESIST WITH YOUR QUESTIONS, WE HAVE NO TIME FOR THEM. WE STILL REQUIRE YOU FOR ANOTHER ERRAND—

        There was the unmistakable sound of an alarm in the room, along with a flashing red light.

        THERE IS AN INTRUDER IN THE COCKPIT. I MUST CHECK. THE OTHER WILL KEEP WATCH OVER YOU.

        And with that, the Lavos who had been typing left the room in a hurry, leaving Robo with the other one who sat and watched the two of them.

        “Minako?” Robo wondered aloud.

 

* * * * *

 

        This is the control room, said the Nu, motioning to the empty, large room that housed many different control panels along with a view of outer space.

        Minako nodded, tossing aside her hair. “And now, what exactly did you need me for?”

        The Nu reached back with one of its short arms to scratch itself.

        Well, since you are a creatio—I mean, an android, then you will most definitely be able to interact with the ship’s controls, since I cannot with my body.

        Minako was already retrieving a cable from a pocket on her one-piece suit. While she unwound it and looked for somewhere to attach it in, she spoke to the Nu.

        “So, you need me to change the direction of this ship?”

        The Nu nodded. More than that, I need you to set this ship to do a space-fold to a certain planetary system, and then to a certain planet within that system.

        “It’s as good as done. As long as Robo and I can get off this damned ship soon.” Minako said as she connected one end of the cable to a port in the control panel facing the viewing port, and the other end to an unseen port in her neck.

        When we get to the place we need to be, I will need your help again, along with the other creation and the human survivor. When you complete the space-fold program, we will have to wait for several minutes. We can probably wait here, undetected—

        The Nu broke off, looking behind him.

        “What?” Minako asked, craning her neck, the changes in the space-fold program already being run by her superior CPU.

        They know we’re here! Hurry! I will leave to make sure that they do not interrupt you!

        Minako cursed as the Nu left through the door leading out of the control room.

        Not too far away, the sound of metal clashing against itself could be heard…

 

* * * * *

         

        Robo was attempting to communicate with the other Lavos.

        “So tell me, what exactly are you?”

        The alien looked straight at Robo through the bulky partial-suit it wore, and then looked away.

        “It is a very exciting thing to know that another space-faring race exists besides ourselves,” Robo said. “Perhaps you could explain more about yourselves, and we sould exchange information on our races?”

        The alien did not bother to look at Robo this time. Robo decided that he would take a different route this time, one that he was sure would get attention.

        “Why did you send one of your people to destroy our planet, Earth? What was the reasoning behind it?”

        The alien looked at Robo, then got up and walked toward the keyboard.

        YOUR QUESTIONS ARE TIRING. WE WERE CUT OFF FROM THE OPERATIVE CENTURIES AGO.

        Robo was intrigued. He checked behind to see if Utema was recovered yet, but he was still on the medical machine.

        “But why did one of your own do such a thing?”

        The alien began to type.

        YOU REALIZE THAT WE CANNOT KEEP TRACK OF ALL OF OUR—

        It was then that the door to the room that Robo was in burst open, and in the doorway stood two humans wearing a type of form-fitting armor and carrying what resembled automatic weaponry.

        The Lavos stood up and reached out with an arm, energy forming within its hand, ready to fire. However, one of the two humans, the younger one, was quicker. He raised his weapon and fired, the rifle making a loud sound as metal bullets fired from it at a high velocity. The bullets ripped into the Lavos’s suit, and it fell to the floor with a crash.            

        The older one immediately rushed toward Utema, the only other human in the room. Checking on the captain, he signaled to his partner to come with him and see. As the older human began to fiddle with the medical machinery, Robo decided to move to Utema’s assistance.

        “Shit!” the younger human yelled, instantly pointing his rifle at Robo and pulling the trigger. The rifle kicked back as the heavy bullets were shot out of it, and the sound of firing was extremely loud in the small room. However, the hot metal ammunition simply bounced off of Robo’s metal hide.

        Robo decided to act. His fist shot out toward the soldier at an extremely fast speed, and with his extended hand he grabbed the soldier’s weapon and snapped it in two. The human looked dumbfounded as he saw his rifle fall to the floor in two pieces with a loud clank.

        “Please desist.”

        The older human raised an eyebrow as he observed the large, talking machine that had destroyed his partner’s weapon. He raised his rifle for a moment, then lowered it when he saw that shooting the machine would do no good.

        “What are you, machine?” he asked, scratching the gray stubble of a beard he had. The younger soldier crept beside the elder, clenching his fists.

        “First of all, I am not a mere machine,” said Robo, checking on Utema. Satisfied that the medical machine had healed the captain’s wounds and pumped a stimulant through his system to get him awake and energetic when he awakened, he detached the many tubes from various parts of the captain’s body. The exit wounds of the tubes were sealed up immediately, thanks to a powerful and unknown agent that the machine produced.

        “Second, what you did is unwise.” Robo motioned to the seemingly dead alien several feet away from them. “Any time now, some more of the Lavos will come back and see what has happened, and that could be very unfortunate to you.”

        “Who are they? Where are we?” asked the younger human harshly, who retrieved a cigarette from his uniform pocket and lit up.

        Before Robo could answer with anything, something rapidly entered the room from the now open door. The older soldier raised his weapon, but lowered it immediately, a look of stark confusion upon his face.

        Standing in the doorway was a Nu.

        There is no time to argue, and we need all of your assistance. Leave this area immediately, and follow me, the Nu said, words which spoke aloud although the mouth on the creature did not.

        The two soldiers looked at the blue creature with dumbfounded gazes. It was only when the creature spoke their names that they bolted up and went into action, obeying the being’s every word:

                Vicks, Wedge, please carry the other human with you. Robo, you stay behind them to watch their backs. All of you, follow me.

                The two Vector Imperial Army soldiers, Vicks and Wedge, rushed up to support Utema with their two bodies, struggling under the captain’s weight. Not understanding the situation, but compelled by some unseen force, they followed the Nu as it walked outside the room. Robo, not entirely sure what was happening but use to the mysterious circumstances after the failed anomaly incident, followed closely behind.

                You must follow me to the Cargo Hold area! Hurry! The two soldiers have special weaponry that can stand up to our captors! The Nu said to Robo as the four of them shambled down the long, dark metal corridors of the ship.

                “What about Minako?” asked Robo in haste.

                She is presently performing a crucial task I have given her. She will be fine when it is completed. Someone else will be protecting her.

                “How do you know all of this? It seemed like you had planned this all along!” Robo retorted.

                It is not me that knows of all of this, the Nu said to Robo. They had all finally reached the corridor leading to the darkened Cargo Area, stepping over two bodies of stunned aliens. Robo did not have time to think of how the bodies ended up there. The Nu pressed its hand against the corridor wall, and instantly the entire Cargo Area was lit up. What looked like two bipedal, heavily armed walking armor suits were what awaited the four of them.

                All of this is preordained, you see, said the Nu, It is fate.     

         

* * * * *

         

                                “C’mon…” Minako hissed as the program neared completion, ready to disconnect her cable at any second. She heard some sounds of clashing metal outside of the control room, and could now hear footsteps coming closer and closer. It could be the Nu, or it soulc be her alien captors. In a rather human gesture, she hoped that it was Robo and he was safe, and that he came to her with a plan to get out of the ship…

                “…done!” Minako said as she tore the cable out of her neck port and let it dangle in front of the terminal, he mission complete. In a few minutes, the ship would execute a space-fold jump to the coordinates that the Nu had provided her. For now, however, Minako had more pressing matters on her mind. Like who the incoming footsteps were coming from and how she would defend herself. She assumed a fighting position and stood her ground. If the aliens wanted her, they wouldn’t get her without a fight.

                Instead of an alien, or even the Nu, that came into the control room, it was a young green-haired human male dressed in ancient trappings and anachronistic metal armor, complete with a sheathed sword by his side.

                “A Maiden?” the man said in awe, his defenses dropping. “But you look so different… like an angel or a demon…”

                Minako frowned. The speech and dialect of this man matched her memory bank records to a person of almost two millennia ago. She did not understand what was going on.

                “I shall protect you,” the man said, drawing his sword. “There were some of the… the Lavos-like creatures back there, but I have dispatched of them. I will stay by your side and—“

                “Where did you come from?” Minako asked abruptly, breaking the speech of the young man. She could tell that he was obviously smitten by her. Great.

                The man cleared his throat. “Guardia Kingdom, Main Continent, of the year…”

                Minako sighed. “No, I mean, where did you get into this ship from?”

                The man looked dumbfounded. “Ship? This? Well, in this dark, large area, I happened to arrive there via a hole torn in the heavens, and…”

                “Let’s go.” said Minako, determined, grabbing the arm of the young man ina powerful grip, dragging him behind her as she and him left the control room. Perhaps she would see Robo on the way out, perhaps the Nu. Perhaps she would make sense of this strange mess sometime soon…

 

* * * * *

               

                Fate, as the Nu described it, was certainly at work here.

                Robo and Utema were both in the cargo area of the ship, along with the newly acquired allies Vicks and Wedge, who have come to this place from another world, another universe entirely. The two soldiers were presently seated in their armored suits, awaiting the alien creatures that would presumably attack soon.

                Minako Aino, the female android, raced down toward the same cargo area, where unknown to her, the others waited for the enemy. Trailing along with her, the person the most out of place in this decaying modern setting, was Glenn, Knight of Guardia, sword in hand.

                The aliens—no, the Lavos—however, were not as shallow in their plans as the others thought. For even now, they planned to enter the cargo area unharmed, joining with the others. Their true motives are unknown.

                Everyone was coming together. Everything was coming together. It was meant to be. And the ship’s space-fold was about to be executed, warping the ship from the present location to the outskirts of a certain planet known to its inhabitants only as the Dead World, setting it in the orbit above a certain city called Acheron…

 

 

Chapter Six

 

                “Cover us!” Madoshi—known to Crono, Ayla, Marle and Lucca as Magus—yelled out to the people he had summoned, waving with his arm. Helping the wounded Ayla stand, he motioned for the others.

                “Help her out,” Magus said to Crono. His voice was stern, and his eyes were unreadable behind those dark sunglasses. Certainly dresses differently than when I last saw him… Crono mused.

                Rokan and Crono, the two strongest of the bunch, both supported Ayla’s near-limp body. Marle and Lucca drew their projectile weapons.