Chapter 26 - The Big Bad
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Thirty Minutes Before The Missile Attack… Monique Johnson's Perspective…
When a Global Justice transport VTOL suddenly dropped out of the sky to hover over the front lawn of Monique Johnson's house, she very quickly moved towards her front door in a vain attempt to leave without interacting with her parents.
It didn't work.
Sharon and Dale Johnson heard the VTOL engines shrieking above their heads, they rushed towards the front window of their living room. They saw the rappelling ropes dangling down onto their front lawn, and they looked to Monique because she had a hand upon the door.
"Kim needs me for something, and I don't have time to explain," Monique revealed with a shrug. "I'll be safe, and I'll see you in a few hours."
Then Monique was moving out the door, her parents gaping at her back as a rappelling harness was quickly cinched around her waist by a GJ agent, and then she was hoisted up into the airship as if she'd done it all before.
Suffice it to say, Monique Johnson was quite a bit more physically capable now than she was just a few months prior, in regards to climbing, repelling, martial arts, weapon usage, gymnastics, etcetera, as a result of her nightly 'skill-sharing' efforts with one Ronald Stoppable… but that wasn't why she was being hoisted up into the side-bay door of the Global Justice airship.
No.
When Monique slid into a bench seat next to one Tara Strongwell, she did so because the two of them could feel Ron's presence to the West-North-West of their current location, and GJ was using them as dowsing rods to keep track of his movements.
Suffice it to say, over the last few hours, Monique, Tara, Master Sensei and Global Justice had communicated a great many things back and forth, in response to Ron's mission to save Kim Possible and Bonnie Rockwaller.
The leader of GJ, a woman by the name of Doctor Director, was in communication with Master Sensei, and after securing Monique and Tara's permission, the elderly wiseman explained the following things:
-Ronald Stoppable was the very first American spiritualist being trained at Yamanouchi
-Ron and a fully trained Yamanouchi Kunoichi were currently flying a priority one, rocket propelled, hypersonic transport in the direction of Colorado's Rocky Mountains
-Ron and his Kunoichi counterpart we're about to infiltrate the base of the mastermind behind Adrena Lynn, Camille Leon and DNAmy's current actions
-Ronald Stoppable could feel the presence and general direction of his closest female friends, including the newly abducted Kim Possible, and due to some unexplained circumstances, a few of his closest friends could sense him in return.
While in the past, it would've been prudent for Monique and Tara to conceal the fact that they enjoyed a 'link' of sorts with Ron, when the time came to either support their friends/lover or stand by on the sidelines, both girls quickly volunteered their services. They gave up on the safety provided by anonymity, they allowed Master Sensei to describe the connection that they shared with Ron…. and now they were involved.
For the most part, the help Monique and Tara were providing was simple. A trio of GJ transports were currently carrying agent Will Du and a squad of his peers, and the girls would point them in Ron's direction when his transport arrived within the mountain range.
Using his spiritual connection with Kim and Bonnie, Ron already knew where he was going. Global Justice, on the other hand, did not. Tara and Monique would act as the go-between, because Ron was far, far too busy rocketing through the stratosphere to correspond with Agent Du.
Over the following twenty minutes, the VTOL carrying Tara and Monique tore across Colorado in the direction of the mountains, during which time both girls felt their attention being drawn to the East and… up. Ron's hypersonic jet was closing in on the mountains at speeds that would squish a normal human like a bug, and he was overtaking the squadron of VTOL's that the girls were riding upon in a slightly Northern heading.
Calling out towards the VTOL pilot that was sitting in a slightly recessed cockpit at the front of the fuselage, Monique asked the man to slowly bank the ship to the right before telling him when to straighten out again, at which point they were more directly trailing behind Ron's transport and its destination in the mountains.
And then Monique waited, and she felt Tara trying, and failing, to remain calm at her side, so she lay a hand upon her arm because this was all she could do… Time slipped by, second by second, and the mountain range grew in the cockpit window until it dominated the landscape.
Then the silent tension was completely torn to shreds, as everything started moving very, very quickly.
Seemingly out of nowhere, a series of shrill alarms and klaxons began pouring out from the cockpit's control banks, causing the pilot to curse, rapidly turn the yoke of the ship both to the right and down, turning the ship into a rapid sweeping descent to had them dropping into a mountain valley.
"What's happening," Agent Du called out, as he strained forward on his seat and hung from a loop suspended from the ceiling.
"Cruise missiles, six of them, launched from the US army missile silo located in the mountains," the pilot cursed, his hands a blur upon the controls as he dropped their airship below radar range. "I think we know where this evil mastermind is holding up… Now the only question is… how?!"
By this point, both Monique and Tara had their faces pressed to one of the porthole windows on the hull of the airship, where they watched six rocket-contrails extend up into the sky, and asked Clare to give them what information they were missing.
Clare, in turn, informed Tara and Monique that Ron was aware of the missiles that were flying in his direction, but that his transport was in the midst of performing a very dangerous, preprogrammed reentry into the atmosphere, and that he would likely need to bail out of his ship as soon as he slowed down.
And in response to this news, both Monique and Tara bodily flinched for seemingly no reason at all, even as agent Du stared at them with a look of intense scrutiny upon his face. An unblinking stare that came to an end, when the pilot banked the ship hard to the right, flying them back down the slopes of the mountain range towards what looked like a basecamp at the bottom of a nearby valley.
"Why are we," Will Du began asking, only for the pilot to hold a palm out in his direction to stop him in his tracks.
"The missiles are converging on something directly above us, and if that thing is Mr. Stoppable's airship, then we're still waaay too close for comfort," the pilot quickly described even as he slalomed their airship down the slopes in their path with just ten meters of clearance in her haste to get them low, low, low… "We're not dealing with jet fighter missiles meant to be used in aerial dogfights, these are cruise missiles designed to vaporize everything for a half mile in every direction, and there are six of them…"
All along the hull of the ship, various agents moved to look out of the porthole windows, where they watched six matching contrails shrink together as they rapidly climbed in elevation.
BOOOOM!
In a laser light show that was seared into everyone's vision, the six cruise missiles finally arrived at their target and then exploded in a dome of white hot force… only for a second flash of light to appear in its path, this one a bright blue in color, sending a swath of the blast-wave up and away from the earth. A split second later, the sound and concussive force from the explosion slammed down into the airship from above, and while it wasn't strong enough to knock the ship out of the air, it was definitely strong enough to shake everyone inside of it like peas in a cup.
The pilot cursed both loudly and creatively as he wrestled with the control yoke, forcing the ship to descend in between two copse of pine-trees, before swerving the ship to a stop stationary to the ground. A masterful bit of flying that he immediately needed to recreate fifty meters further down the slope, when a tree just five meters away exploded around a bolt of lightning, setting the surrounding woods ablaze. Several more times, lightning lit up the shadowy valley as the airship nosedived towards the earth, pulled up at the very last instant, and then settled onto a rocky outcropping just in time for small fiery pieces of debris to begin falling to the earth.
What… was…. that," Will Du demanded of the pilot, not referring to the explosion itself, but rather the blue half-dome that opposed it in the sky.
"No clue," the pilot responded without ever looking away from the vast cloud of smoke that was currently expanding to fill the sky. "I do know that it wasn't a missile though… it was too solid, and it was mostly focused in a single direction…"
By the time the pilot was finished replying to Du's question, the man was turning back towards Tara and Monique with a no-nonsense expression upon his face. "Tell me what you know."
Monique looked at Tara, Tara looked at Monique, they both recognized that there were things that they couldn't/wouldn't share, as well as the many reasons why, at which point Monique adopted her store-manager face and then turned back towards the agent. "Mr. Du… While Ms. Strongwell and I are here to help, we do not work for Global Justice, nor are we in your chain of command. You have no authority over us, so… watch - your - tone."
"I see, I understand, and I'll even apologize if you require it, but I need to understand our current situation," Agent Du slowly responded in an equally businesslike voice.
Nodding her head, Monique looked North in the direction of the closest mountain, before saying what she knew and could safely explain. "Mr. Stoppable survived the explosion, and he's on the mountain slopes above us. I can't explain why, but I can feel him, I know he's alive and he's moving around in that direction."
"Even as Monique finished giving that answer, Agent Du was on his sat-phone with Doctor Director, explaining that an American Army Missile Silo was compromised, and that their ship was grounded to avoid detection on radar. A very fast-paced conversation filled with FBI, CIA, GJ and spy jargon followed, during which time Monique managed to pick up on the fact that this was a very big deal…
"Nuclear," Will Du finally breathed out, when his phone-call came to an end and everyone in the airship stared at the side of his head. "As soon as the missile silo's rogue status was revealed, one Mr. Monty Fiske contacted the federal government threatening to fire a nuclear missile if anyone but Mr. Stoppable approaches his base… For now, our involvement in this matter has come to an end."
Once again, Tara and Monique turned to look at each other, as several pieces of information superimposed itself along their peripheral vision, because the situation was bad now, and they didn't know if they could help. According to Clare and the piecemeal messages sent to them by Ron, Yori's ability to channel spiritual power was currently hampered by injuries that she sustained during the explosion, and Monkey Fist was demanding that Ron enter his silo within the next three hours, or the man would execute Kim and Bonnie.
One fact was both obvious and readily apparent. Ron would inevitably enter Monkey Fist's lair, where he would do whatever Monkey Fist desired of him, because he would not risk Kim and Bonnie's safety.
And yet, all Monique and Tara could do was wait, because they wouldn't risk Monkey Fist launching missiles merely so that they could lend Ron their amateurish martial arts skills… No… They were the go-between connecting Ron and the GJ agents, and that was the most effective way to help.
Ron would need to sabotage the nuclear missile first…
Turning towards Agent Du, Monique caught the man's attention with the super-serious and meaningful look upon her face. "I have faith that Mr. Stoppable can save our friends, but to do so he'll need to know exactly which silo contains the nuclear missile. Please contact Master Sensei with all of the relevant information."
"Doctor Director is already giving him the rundown… not that I understand why," Will admitted with a sigh and a pair of hands running through his carefully gelled hair. "I don't understand how the information we provide is conveyed from this Master Sensei to Mr. Stoppable, I don't understand how you girls are connected to him empathically, I don't understand why Mr. Stoppable is the very first American that Yamanouchi has agreed to train, and I don't understand why we're hanging all of our hopes on the two months of training he's received… I've met the boy, after all… He's just… normal… So, so very normal."
The way agent Du said the word 'normal' made it sound like the worst kind of curse word.
In her peripheral vision, Monique caught the tightening of Tara's fists at her sides, so she dropped a hand onto her thigh in order to stop her friend from doing anything… rash. The two of them needed to stay exactly where they were, and they needed to play nice with the agent in charge…
For now.
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A few miles away and much higher up the mountain, Ron sat back against the bumpy wall of a cave, the silk of a parachute bunched up below his body and covering the woman that was currently resting her head atop his thighs.
Ron and Yori were not fighting… yet.
The fight was there, they simply hadn't acknowledged it yet.
Yori was badly burned, she was hampered from a spiritual standpoint, and yet she was completely determined to continue taking part in the rescue mission.
Ron had zero intention of bringing Yori into a hostage situation, and the fact that she was injured only solidified his position.
There was no wiggle room here. One of the two of them was going to be unhappy within the next three hours.
Ron didn't want to fight with his newest lover, especially after she attempted to sacrifice her life for him just a few minutes earlier, and Yori wasn't the type to indulge in senseless conflict, so Ron made a pillow with his thighs, he combed his right hand through her extra-long, extra smooth hair, and she curled her hands around his left hand as if he'd try to run away. Time slipped by as the Lichtenberg figure scorch-marks lining the skin of Ron's arms and legs slowly eased away, his inner workforce addressing the damage at the cellular level.
"Within the next few minutes, Master Sensei will open a very old and sacred shrine containing an incredibly ancient weapon, and he will send it in our direction via another priority one transport," Yori spoke, her words factual, hopeful, containing a hidden plea for Ron to wait for its arrival. "This weapon is powerful, uniquely lethal, and it should help tip the scales in your favor."
"If the transport can get here in the next two and a half hours, and it can land without being blown out of the sky, then I'll gladly accept whatever leg up I can find," Ron quietly agreed… Unspoken in his words was the fact that this new transport would not fly the route that the two of them just did for fear that they'd receive a cruise missile upon arrival, which would slow them down to an extent he likely couldn't afford.
For now, Ron held his peace, because Yori was smart, which meant she already knew. For the next twenty minutes, they simply sat there, and they held tight to each other because it was something they could do…
Eventually, as if coming to a conclusion in her mind, Yori suddenly forced her body to roll painfully onto her back, and she looked up into Ron's eyes with a resolved look upon her face.
"We must speak of something that isn't usually taught to trainees at your level," Yori announced.
Nodding his head, Ron waited.
"Montgomery Fiske… Monkey Fist… has become one of the most dangerous and insidious creatures that Earth has to offer," Yori slowly, quietly, and meaningfully announced into the silence of the cave.
"An evil aligned spiritualist," Ron quietly breathed out, as he explored the idea for himself. "Human sacrifices, demonic rituals, a psychopathic drive to accrue power at any cost…"
At first, Yori merely nodded, likely because the kunoichi knew what Ron suffered at Monty's hands…. Then she sighed, she drew in a very deep breath, and she took another tack that completely caught Ron off guard. "Yamanouchi doesn't execute any of our ninja when they go rogue or commit evil deeds, instead opting to imprison them within a facility called the stockades, where they live an exceedingly ascetic lifestyle of strict atonement… And do you know why?"
"I…. don't," Ron realized, as all of the sudden that policy seemed both odd and unwise. "I've always operated under Team Possible standards, which means I don't kill if I have other options, but now that I think about it, maintaining a stockade full of criminal ninja sounds…"
"Exceptionally dangerous," Yori agreed, when Ron's words slowed to a stop. "Yes… it is, but we have very little choice in the matter."
Ron didn't nod, he didn't move, and he stared at Yori's gorgeous, heart-shaped face, because what she was describing was important, and he could feel as much in his bones.
"Most varieties of terrestrial spirits or other supernatural creatures… they're… vague… they're transient, and for the most part, they don't have the power to influence the world around them," Yori conveyed, in a tone that made it clear she was speaking about something most ninjas learned at a young age. "Most humans can't even see these spirits, let alone make physical contact with them, which is why it takes a spiritualist to fight off an unseen…"
Ron merely nodded his head, because so far, the woman wasn't saying anything that he hadn't figured out for himself.
"What most trainees don't think about, is that ninja, as spiritualists, have also become a part of the spiritual plane," Yori continued, her voice growing more solemn and serious with every word that she said. "We're empowered in such a way that our wills and our emotions can have an impact upon the world… even in death."
"Emotions," Ron mused, before his hand suddenly curled tighter around Yori's palm. "Anger, sadness, regret… hatred…"
"Vengeful spirits," Yori confirmed, her hand tightening in return as she sidled backwards to press the top of her head into Ron's stomach. "Spiritualists that die while harboring intense negative emotions… they tend to linger like a stain, a toxic miasma, and what's more, they tend to gravitate towards each other via some sort of unconscious resonance, and then give rise to… trouble."
"Monkey Fist, his followers, these vengeful spirits, they're all connected," Ron surmised.
This time it was Yori's turn to nod, at which point she failed to conceal the wince of pain the movement caused her, and she immediately continued her explanation as if to distract Ron's attention. "Connected… Yes… Monkey Fist and his followers are empowered by angry, hateful, resentful, scornful spirits, both terrestrial and other… because these spirits are eager to provide what power and technique they can… at a price. Meditation and strict discipline are less important to these spirits than the willingness to open oneself to their influence… to become a physical anchor, a foothold, a means for these creatures to affect their surroundings…"
"So Monkey Fist will have leveled up over the last year… but he's also becoming less human, more… other," Ron concluded, before pausing and staring down at Yori's face. "According to Master Sensei, I need to control my anger when I use the MMP because it feedback loops my emotions… How would that work if rage and hatred were an integral part of the package…"
"For the most part, it doesn't," Yori sighed out in a sad little voice. "The poor, misguided fools that Montgomery and his ilk have recruited, are little more than ticking time bombs of wanton violence and savage brutality…"
"Any chance at redemption," Ron asked.
"Supremely unlikely, and I will not forgive you if you die in the attempt," Yori warned in a voice laced with steel. "These ninja have been gutted, Ron sama. They walk, they talk, they obey their orders, but they are little more than husks full of pill bugs and spiders."
That visual almost made Ron shiver, but then Yori was using his body as a pillow, so he forced himself not to…
"Monkey Fist's followers will never be as strong as Reo san or myself from a martial artist standpoint, because the more powerful they become, the more dangerous it is for them to train," Yori described with a long drawn out sigh. "What they are instead, is feral and inherently dangerous because they've become the host for spiritual parasites, and when they fight all out, the damage that they've accrued becomes increasingly manifest… Mutations, unsightly expressions of toxic power, animalistic traits that can sting or slash, a whole host of unpredictable attacks and transformations."
"Human shaped monsters with supernatural strength," Ron concluded, before pausing and tilting his head to the side. "Someone back at Yamanouchi is acting on Monkey Fist's behalf, feeding him information, and even manipulating your mind for reasons that we need to figure out..."
"You're right. With all we've learned, we should be able to discern the manipulator's true motive," Yori mused.
"Why would they coerce you into infiltrating my mindscape," Ron repeated aloud into the wind-broken silence of the cave. "Even knowing nothing about my unique abilities, whoever demanded that you jailbreak my mind would've known I'd quickly catch on to your true mental state, because communication within the astral plane shares a lot of extra context. On the other hand, if this unknown manipulator does know how my mindscape operates, then they have to know that your involvement will only make me stronger…"
"They wish to alienate you at Yamanouchi by making our relationship public," Yori suggested.
"If that's what they want, then they've succeeded, but keeping me isolated doesn't achieve anything beyond spiteful enjoyment," Ron mused, before his head suddenly jerked up and his eyes opened wide… "What if me getting stronger is the whole entire point, and somehow benefits this person," he brainstormed while gently cupping Yori's face. "What if I was supposed to level up as a result of our connection, just in time to deflect away that explosion… What if it's on purpose, all of it, and part of a plan!?"
"To what end though," Yori began, before her irises suddenly widened into twin black pools in her eyes, she gasped in a breath and then tightly closed her eyes as she let it all out. "I must meditate and communicate with Master Sensei, now. The weapon is what they want, and your existence merely acts as the key!"
Almost instantly, Yori's consciousness was elsewhere, as the woman astral projected her thoughts around the planet towards Japan…
Less than a minute later, Yori's eyes snapped back open, and she bit her lip in rising concern… "My Master is… unreachable. He's either within the shrine's sacred boundary and concealed from my senses, or he's…"
In the end, Yori didn't say that one final word, but Ron knew what it was, so he gently hugged her body as she returned to meditation, seeking out any of her peers that might be present in the area….
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Fifteen Minutes Earlier, Yamanouchi Japan, Master Sensei's Perspective…
Mishisuga Hurioka, more commonly referred to as Master Sensei walked down a series of roofed wooden hallways that split apart a small but thick section of sacred forest, as he, the rest of Yamanouchi's elder council, and a few hand-chosen ninja, moved in the direction of the school's oldest, and most heavily fortified location. A location so very old, so enduring, so infamous in the minds of the local spiritualists, it was simply referred to as 'the shrine'...
Walking slowly in advance of the exceedingly old men that made up most of the Elder Council, Hurioka moved with heavy, resigned steps, because he considered this outcome a personal failure… As a result of Montgomery Fiske's most recent attack, and the very high profile explosion of spiritual power that Stoppable san released in response, Hurioka could no longer downplay the boy's burgeoning strength from the rest of the council.
A very unfortunate event, as well as a dangerous outcome for the following reason:
All of the youngest council members of the school were quite eager to draft Stoppable san as a weapon of war against the growing tide of unseen, exactly as was foretold in the school's oldest and most famous prophecy… Of course, these same elders didn't seem to care that by granting the weapon to a host, they would signal the 'beginning' of said prophetic war, because they were far too afraid to be under-armed when it began.
Of course, Master Sensei wanted to argue that his council peers were being reckless, hasty, and impulsive… but unfortunately for him, he spent a great deal of time communing with all of them on the astral plane, and he could see the reasons and emotions that led them to arrive at their current decision.
The elder council was correct that foreign unseen were emerging onto Earth's plane of existence at record breaking numbers, and they were correct that Yamanouchi was taking losses as they struggled to keep up, but even with that being the case, they were completely disregarding the reason why the weapon was locked away to begin with…
The Lotus Blade wasn't meant to be held by human hands.
The blade was a Spiritual artifact, a tool designed to draw out power from within its wielder, but that wasn't all. It also granted that power a will, a want, and an unforeseen amount of agency upon the mortal plane of existence.
The blade was a tool to manifest a God… but then that was the reason why the sword was so scary. Many spirits of a sinister variety would covet such a tool, and commit terrible acts upon the world with its power.
And unfortunately for one Ronald Stoppable, that was where he came into the picture.
The Monkey Magic Totems contained a vast spiritual entity called the Monkey Magic Power, an immense mass of sage spirit power that was both benevolent and extraordinarily powerful. Of that fact, Yamanouchi was certain, and in that certainty arose an idea.
The prophecy goes as follows:
At the tipping point, when good and bad coexist upon the edge of a blade, the weapon will meet with the spirit to create a ferociously powerful union, and bring an end to the unseen war.
This very vague and over-interpretable prophecy, along with the total accuracy of every other prophecy that the founder lay down, was the reason why the elder council was so very eager to get the Lotus Blade into Ronald Stoppable's hands. The MMP was indeed a benevolent spiritual entity of near endless power, which meant it was a suitable candidate to unite with the sword.
In theory…
In reality, the human wielder involved in the process ran the risk of becoming little more than a spiritual medium, a body enslaved to the will of a God. An outcome that didn't bother elder Kazuo or any of his cronies in the slightest because Stoppable san was something that they had very little patience for…
An outsider.
Abruptly, Master Sensei found himself wondering what he could've done differently to prevent this outcome. Stoppable san needed to be trained to survive his growing power, of that he was certain, but now that Kazuo was 'championing' the boy, he feared for Ron's future and spiritual well-being.
But then, the situation was not without hope.
Stoppable san really was a remarkable man… An untrained hero that internalized a brutally-selfless mountain of raw power to become a gifted ninja trainee within only a matter of months. That, plus the fact that Yori was supporting the boy both spiritually and emotionally… It was almost enough to make Master Sensei a believer… if he didn't like the boy too much to risk his life in the process.
Which he did.
In the end, Master Sensei had every single intention of telling Stoppable san to keep the sword in its sheath… not because he didn't approve of the boy… but because he did.
And at the end of that thought, Master Sensei and his retinue finally arrived at the shrine, where they stood in front of its highly decorative and elaborate gate hemmed within a series of tori of unequaled splendor. On both sides of the gate, a series of Komainu statues (lion-dog guardians) watched everyone with stern, unblinking stares, and everyone felt the weight of their scrutiny…
Along with the barrier.
Spiritual power, for the most part, is an earthbound force rather than a variety of ghost, and it can be internalized by exceptionally well-trained humans who reach for spiritual enlightenment. Spiritual relics and tools are even rarer and for the most part, they're only modified versions of natural phenomenon such as the cave shrines below Yamanouchi valley, and how they help ninja trainees meditate and grow. Those caves, the rocks that make up the statues contained within, they were always there, always saturated with spiritual power, long before humans first ascended the mountain.
Unlike those caves, this shrine, or rather 'the shrine' was a legitimate artifact, not unlike the Monkey Magic Totems, and as such, no one knew how it was originally created. No human in recorded history was capable of creating relics that could absorb and manifest spiritual power. The totems, this shrine, the blade that it contained, everyone who knew of them attributed them to the age of Gods, but other than that they knew very little. What they did know was that artifacts are powerful, and that they serve their purpose with flawless efficiency.
Entering the spiritual barrier surrounding 'the shrine' without the correct tools and constitution was completely impossible, and that word wasn't used in excess. Master Sensei was the only man at the school that could grant access, because he possessed a one of a kind amulet, of sorts, in the form of a tattoo, a rare metal melted down and grafted into the skin of his palm back when he was still living a normal human lifespan (a very long time ago). This amulet, and the spiritual techniques that Master Sensei had learned to perform using it as a focus, would create a door in the barrier to the shrine contained within.
Everyone knew that Master Sensei was the key to the shrine, and everyone stared at his back with expectant looks upon their faces. The only exceptions were the two young ninja that stood guard on either side of the gate, Makino on the left, Miura on the right, both of whom struggled as hard as they could to maintain a watchful and stoic demeanor in the face of the authority standing in front of them.
"The will of the Council is that we act now for best advantage," Kazuo spoke from a meter behind Master Sensei, the gray-haired man's tall, whipcord thin frame allowing him to stare imperiously down at his more stooped over form. "We will retrieve the sword. We will fulfill the prophecy…"
All around the clearing, Council members either nodded or remained still, their consensus made clear either through agreement or passive consent.
What a shame…
Mishisuga Hurioka's job title at Yamanouchi was Master Sensei. It wasn't a nickname, but rather an honorific. He was what amounted to a dean of students, because he was the eldest ninja, as well as the most spiritually enlightened. What this title did not grant him, was dictatorship over the Yamanouchi elder council, the ninja order's leadership, of which Hurioka was merely a member. An elder member, yes, and one with quite a bit of pull, but not one with veto powers over the rest of the council.
The Council as a whole wanted the shrine opened, so Hurioka would do so… but the Lotus Blade would not leave his possession until Reo san boarded a transport to America… Stoppable san would receive the sword, yes, but more importantly, he would also receive a quad of veteran ninjas as back-up, along with a stern warning not to use the weapon unless the whole entire world was coming to an end….
With a mostly suppressed sigh, Master Sensei drew his hand to a highly-stylized plate on the wall just to the right of the gate where he focused his mind on channeling a very specific spirit contained within the amulet to commune with its twin within the plate in an exceedingly specific swirling pattern that saturated the various nooks and crannies of the plate like a key. Sweat dotted his forehead at the metaphysical strain of the feat he was pulling off, as by design the spirit that he was channeling was the farthest thing from cooperative, and the resonance that he was creating was not an easy or straightforward process…
For several minutes no one moved, they barely breathed, they watched as the Master Sensei shook and bodily shuddered his way through an immense amount of metaphysical strain, finally finalized the exchange that needed to happen, and then dropped to a knee with his right hand pushed flat to the floor.
A tangible vibration radiated from the barrier, moving outwards in every direction, a break in its invisible but heavy and imposing surface, a square opening spanning the tori that would remain open for the time it took for the power that Hurioka that just released to dissipate back into the ether…
A crackling snapping sound suddenly emanated from the woods, silent enough it normally would've gone unnoticed if not for the hushed tension filling the clearing. The two young ninja on guard instantly pulled Kunai from their belts, and all of the elders turned outwards in every direction, scanning the trees populating the sacred forest. More sounds, from multiple directions resounded in the forest.
A man, thin, tall, wearing the plain beige gi given to ninja trainees imprisoned within the stockades, stumbled out of the woods, his face hanging forward, his long, ragged hair covering his face, an odd jerkiness to his movements that everyone immediately recognized.
"A vengeful spirit," one of the council members breathed out, even as his decrepit body began to radiate power and his stooped over body began to adopt a better posture. "Must be aiming for the blade, must have been laying in wait…"
"I don't sense him though, why don't I sense him," a second council member added, as his body likewise began pumping out spiritual power and his aged infirmity began easing away.
"More than one, Kazuo warned, as he raised his arms in the traditional Tai Shing Pek Kwar ready stance and stared into the woods on the other side of the path.
Sure enough, a second possessed trainee, this one a middle aged woman wobbled out of the trees with her head tilted awkwardly to the side, her filthy hair matting atop her neck like a bird's nest, a vacant variety of madness driving the intelligence from her eyes.
A third, a fourth, tens, a score, two score, a horde of possessed ninja trainees tripped and stumbled and scrabbled out of the woods, their limbs uncooperative, their arms hanging limply, their bodies pumping out power that felt caustic and wrong.
"For just how long has the stockade been a cesspool of dark spirits," Kazuo demanded of a council-member named Kimura, who was the person in charge of logistics and discipline within the stokade's walls.
"I completed a full tour not even three days ago, and there were no signs of outsider influence," Kimura instantly defended, his arms up in front of his chest even as he rounded towards yet another group of infested trainees that stalked onto the wooded path. "I promise I haven't been negligent or corrupt, and I have no interest in the blade!"
All around the clearing, people turned towards Kimura, as if they would fight him rather than the infested moving closer by the second.
"I can't sense the spirits enthralling these men, and I've trusted Kimura for over a hundred years," Master Sensei immediately barked out. "The chance of him being a traitor is nil!"
"Thank you, Hurioka," Kimura immediately gasped out.
"Take Makino ten meters down the path to protect our front, while Miura moves to get back-up from the school," Master Sensei added, not bothering to explain why he was moving Kimura further away from the shrine, because he had no time for diplomacy, and even less for fools. "We need to focus on our sides, so we'll leave the pathway to you!"
"Of… of course, Master sensei, and… I'm sorry," Kimura breathed out, before his body vaguely glowed green, his back violently popped as it suddenly drew ramrod straight, he nodded at the two young ninja that were guarding the shrine, and then he led them to the furthest section of the clearing, where Miura immediately split away.
"Superbly done," Kazuo commented, no signs of sarcasm in his voice, but rather, a begrudging acknowledgement that there was a reason Master Sensei was so well-respected. At exactly the same time, he moved to stand guard position in front of Master Sensei as if to shield him from the rapidly closing enemy, and he growled out an order that clearly wasn't intended to be an order. "This kind of strength and coordination from vengeful spirits is exactly the reason why we're unearthing the sword, so complete your task, Master… and I will watch your back."
All around the clearing, the possessed ninja trainees began stooping over as they dashed towards the shrine, their bodies growing a wild array of horns, claws, stingers, scales, gellatinous patches that smoked with a chemical astringency, extra eyes, duplicate arms, and segmented spines that extended their bodies, and yet they all moved as one, as if following orders.
This outcome was… inconceivable to Master Sensei, because full vengeful spirit possessions are chaos incarnate. They do not coordinate, they do not form cohesive bodies, they rend and tear and thrash at the world, and it's all that they can do to keep a target in mind.
And yet with this outcome, there could be no doubt… The prophesied war was officially upon them, the blade really was required, and the MMP really was the world's best, clearest hope for salvation… Nodding his understanding, Hurioka began moving into the gate and then into the cave on the other side of the tori, and he felt Kazuo stalking backwards at his back keeping an eye on the rest of the council as they encircled the entrance with their backs to each other.
Deeper and darker, Master Sensei moved, torches lighting all by themself at his sides in a way that allowed Kazuo to continue backstepping his way down the stairs with his attention aimed towards the pinprick sized tunnel entrance.
Emerging into a much larger, much brighter, much more decorative room, Master Sensei skidded to a stop as he drew upon the spiritual power required to do what needed to be done. The agent sabotaging his school behind the scenes needed to be eliminated while he was at ease and distracted…
Spinning into a blisteringly fast roundhouse kick, Master Sensei's foot slammed into Kazuo's face just as the man turned around to stab a kunai into his back, sending the man careening towards the nearby wall in a tight corkscrew that cratered his body into the stone and dropped his broken form to the ground.
And in the spot where Kazuo was standing just an instant earlier, a pitch black apparition floated in the air, having spilled from Kazuo's mouth, nose, eyes and ears just a split second before Master Sensei's attack could land.
For a single moment in time, Master Sensei was shocked still with his mouth hanging open because spirits do not merely dump the bodies they are possessing when they become inconvenient. That kind of versatility was so new, so frightening, Hurioka felt his legs wobble before he firmed them up with a lifetime's amount of steel-hard determination.
"How do you conceal yourself… How do you twist and hide in men I've known for full lifetimes," Master Sensei growled out, violent resolve pouring from his body along with waves of his spiritual power.
More and more darkness flooded down the tunnel by the second to amass within the black apparition, until its body swelled to fill the entire entrance to the shrine and back up the tunnel, before it began coalescing into a more tangible form full of thorns and barbs and whiplike protrusions that wrapped and squirmed around its mind-breakingly grotesque form. At exactly the same time, a cascade of different impressions slammed into Master Sensei's mental barriers to complete what amounted to a mad genius's evil monologue, except delivered empathically, all at once, and foisted upon his mind as part of a powerful mental attack.
The creature originated from a dimension so, so very different from the one Earth occupied… So much smaller, so much denser, so tight, and hot, and violent, and hard… and amongst these hellish conditions, the creature fit right in. He was a fighter, a feuder, a vicious enemy and a notoriously fickle friend, and he thrived like few others in the history of his realm until the day that he was finally killed.
At which point he became… something even worse.
A vengeful spirit, created upon a violent and vengeful plane of existence, so much harder and more brutal than Earth, and yet he lay waste to his enemies for almost a decade, until the shamans finally banished his essence beyond the gates of creation.
To Earth.
Earth was so very massive, so light, so bright, and so insubstantial, the creature found himself expanding outwards under a sudden lack of inward pressure, growing vast, growing thin, growing weak and then growing… absent. With Earth's plane of existence being so impossibly transient, nothing present could contain him within himself, so he spread out to cover absolutely everything, everywhere within the gravity well of Earth, and he lost himself in the process until there was almost nothing left.
But when it comes to spirits, birds of a feather do flock together.
Over time, the creature's impossibly weak and widespread essence accumulated within humans with angry, violent, brutal, selfish, and otherwise negative emotions to share, and for almost a full decade, the creature existed within these people, millions of them all at once, soaking up their wants, their needs, their petty squabbling desires, until he grew bloated with it, revolted with it, willing to bring it all to an end along with himself.
Only then, when the creature could stand it no more, when he attempted to turn into himself, to curl up, to find oblivion, did he accidentally reconstitute himself into a much smaller, much stronger form… at which point he immediately let himself expand once again… because he knew.
The creature was hidden from the shamans of this newer, weaker world, because he was… everywhere, all at once, and he was already parasitizing countless numbers of different people.
The creature was so widespread, so thin, the concept of distance was hardly even relevant, but if he desired to do so, he could instantly migrate all of himself into just one or two hosts at a time, to assert his will, to pursue his goals…
And that's what he did.
The creature was malevolent and evil and violent by nature, yes, but even more importantly, it hated Earth, hated everything it stood for, hated everything it represented, hated the superficiality and ludicrous immaturity of the so-called 'evils' that the planet debated and blogged about on anonymous forums… and it was going to tear it all down, starting with the shamans.
The spiritualists.. the ninja… were all going to die….
Master Sensei physically reeled backwards as the creature's mind slammed into his spiritual barriers, and cracks formed in his defenses for the first time in over a hundred and fifty years. Even more alarmingly, more and more black miasma was spilling into the tunnel as if the creature would reach the blade by growing in its direction, causing Hurioka to release his energy into a glowing corona of power, driving the spirit back by occupying the space in its path.
Another mental attack crashed against Hurioka's barrier, this one in the form of a laugh, as the creature saw the elderly spiritualist stagger backwards towards the pedestal in the middle of the room, towards the sword resting on its mount, and the spirit dared him to draw it, to test his will against the millions of earthbound spirits contained within his body.
Hurioka grimaced, as this was the reason why conventional ninja didn't dare use the blade. It amplified the voices and agency of the spirits inside of the spiritualist along with their power, which meant the more powerful and versatile you were by conventional standards, the more voices would scream to take control of your body… and even though spiritualists only take in naturally forming energy from the shrines and the earth, the chaos that resulted was too much for a single mind to handle. The sword quickly drove normal ninja insane, long before any single spirit could wrest control of their body….
But Hurioka was old, and this shrine was his responsibility… so his mouth drew into a thin little line, and he slid a hand across the top of the pedestal…
The black mass roiled and bucked as it filled the cave like a tornado of evil energy, and then it surged in Hurioka's direction like a malevolent spear… and he grabbed the blade, he unsheathed it so fast the sheathe flew across the room, and he swung the sword in a peal of bright light.
Hurioka screamed, his mouth forming a wobbling, tortured line even as his sword-swing cut through the stabbing darkness to send it careening away in multiple directions, and twin rivulets of blood poured free from his nose as his eyes grew wide and shaky in their sockets.
Too much, too much, too many voices all screaming at once while just as many personas tried to control his body and occupy his mind. Hurioka screamed again, as he swung the sword left, stabbing it into the bulk of shrieking black fog while swerving left and across the twilit room. Backpedaling towards the tunnel while focusing what was left of his will towards maintaining his aura. He bulled his way through a river of black and dark and rancid roiling miasma in the direction of the tunnel, only for the current to grow stronger every single step that he took…
A body suddenly flew through the air towards Hurioka through the dark. Kazuo, his eyes sightless, his body broken, leaping towards him with a single functioning leg, and a mouth hanging open.
Master Sensei cut Kazuo in half at the waist with no hesitation whatsoever, blood spraying everywhere as the man's upper body slammed into his side, the dying man's arms clutched at his shoulders, his weight unbalanced Hurioka's movements, Hurioka slid to the side, his shoulder impacted the wall next to the tunnel, and his consciousness continued to waver the whole entire time, as every spirit that he ever internalized grew increasingly aware, and then moved to assert its will.
The blade would surely kill him, if the malevolent spirit didn't do so first.
Thankfully for Hurioka, it was a very good day to die…
A massive green corona of roiling power exploded out of Master Sensei's body to fill most of the tunnel entrance as he screamed his defiance and embraced the madness within, and a million voices screamed for him to swing and slash and rend and tear, because the enemy was everywhere and closing in upon his body with lethal intent.
Movement, chaos, blood, burning, blunt impacts, cold surfaces, movement, tearing, slicing, blindness, weakness… darkness…
Oblivion.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
After being alerted to the danger by a nearly panicked Yori, Rea Akiyama sprinting through the sacred woods, to find a full scale battle taking place just outside the shrine, as every single prisoner of the stockades mutated into an infested host body, and then attacked the council who fought like demons to beat them all back. At the exact same time, all of the attacking host bodies leaked a torrent of black miasma to drift down into the shrine, so Reo didn't pause to help beat back the attack. He continued to move down into the shrine.
Dashing recklessly down the tunnel with his aura spilling free from his body red and angry and spoiling for a fight, Reo slid to a stop as he entered a much larger space… and he gaped at what he found even as he raised his sword in front of his body.
A darkness so profound, it wasn't merely the absence of light but the complete rejection of light as a concept, writhed in the air with a bleeding Master Sensei held within hundreds of tentacles and waving protrusions, and yet the Master swung the sword, slowly, futilely, his blood soaked face slack, his mind absent, his completely shredded body no longer capable of wielding the blade…
Abruptly, the darkness dropped Master Sensei to the floor like a bag of rancid garbage, turned its full attention in Reo's direction without moving at all, and then slammed its will into Reo's mind hard enough to drop him to a knee.
The creature dared him to try and wield the blade. It dared him to believe that he could do better…
Shakily, Reo rose to his feet, leaving his sword where it lay, and as he moved across the room, he grit his teeth as he felt a hostility alien to his own probing for weakness within the bounds of his mind, and he used the same defenses that he used to protect himself from his own evil, to push this one away…
Then Reo was standing next to Master Sensei's body and the blade, he was dropping to a knee next to the sword… and he was scooping up the elderly man with his body already a blur of red-tinted motion.
Reo dashed towards the tunnel entrance at full, fully inhuman speeds, and yet he felt a massive wave of force suddenly push him sideways and away from the tunnel entrance.
Carhuump.
Reo managed to turn his back towards the wall that he slammed into in order to shield Master Sensei from the titanic impact, before crumpling down to his knees on the ground with the man's broken body cradled in his lap. And the black mass didn't pursue beyond knocking him off course, because it was much too busy completing its objective. It swelled larger and larger in the middle of the room before descending down to completely submerge the blade, and then it shrank in size until it formed a… body.
The blade slowly rose from the ground as a form… a bipedal… man… grew into place, his skin bone white and bald but with blood red sigils and runes tightly spanning his scalp in a band from eyebrows to spinal cord, his eyes deep set, pitch black and leaking black mist, his mouth thin and cruel, his neck broad, and his body massive and muscular but in away not even vaguely human. The man was covered head to toe in wounds that leaked a black sticky ichor, apparently given to him when he was still but a spirit and transferred to his body when the sword granted him one. Next, armor coalesced around his body, pitch black and serrated and brutal in appearance.
Once again, Reo made a break for it as the demon's body coalesced, once again, he was slammed into the wall by yet more waves of visceral black energy, but this time he continued to struggle only for the black miasma to pin him in place.
"You - will - stay… " A voice so cold, so stern, so deep it shook your bones, slammed into Reo's body like a psychic attack.
And Reo spit in response because,' fuck you," he snarled, except he really couldn't move, he could only squirm, like a bug in a jar.
The man, the solidified being manifested by the blade, dropped to the floor as his body gained substance, and then it touched its own forearms as if testing its newfound physicality. Then it stalked in Reo's direction, the blade resizing in its hand until it was nearly twice as big, still a one handed sword, but only because the man was huge and incredibly strong.
"You…. boy… are like me, and I like you," the demon pronounced, his words of encouragement driving a flinch from Reo that made it laugh to itself. "Yes… I know… This world has that effect on men like you and me… but never fear, I will change that. I will make a world that you can live in free of pain, shame or any reservation…"
"You don't know me," Reo spat, his mouth clenched almost hard enough to bleed. "I am not like you…"
"No… but you could be," The demon mused, approval in his voice. "Keep that in mind as I change your surroundings… That and… tell the little monkey… I'm coming for what's contained inside his body…"
Then the demon was gone, moving up the tunnel like a ghost, his newly corporeal body all but forgotten… and Reo instantly started pumping power down into his surrogate father, moving to heal, to mend, to repair what was broken.
So, so many things were torn and bleeding, and yet the worst of it was Master Sensei's mind… but the mind could only heal if the body survived, so Reo focused on that and he poured himself in. Minutes went by as Reo poured his life-force into his Master, during which time cuts healed, blood coagulated, breathing smoothed out, and Reo felt himself growing closer to life-endangering levels of exhaustion…
Then, all of the sudden, Master Sensei's eyes snapped wide open, his irises shook, his gaze grew rheumy with trauma as tears spilled down both of his cheeks.
She… she, the elderly man repeated, over and over, and at first, Reo had no idea what the man was even talking about.
Then Master Sensei finally managed to slur out the full word, and Reo immediately found the object that he spoke of resting across the room.
The sheath.
As soon as Reo nodded that yes, the sheath was still lying where Hurioka threw it in the corner of the shrine, the elderly wiseman slumped down into his arms, his soaking-wet and bloody body limp like a dead man, except with irregular breaths expanding and contracting his emaciated ribcage.
For now, at least, Master Sensei was alive.
Whether or not the man would ever regain his full mental capacity would remain to be seen…
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
After opening her eyes from nearly fifteen minutes spent in meditation, Yori hiccuped, and then moaned, and then buried her face in Ron's stomach, and he gasped because Yori was not the weepy type of woman.
She was strong, and she was stoic, so he feared for her Master.
"It was… all of it… a plan… to justify opening the shrine, and a trap," Yori whimpered, tears spilling from her eyes to wet the thigh of Ron's pants, her hands clutching his waist as if she feared she'd fall away. "Your power, your mindscape, your alienation from Possible san, your desire to train, your introduction to the school, your rapid growth and rising notoriety, my recruitment into your harem and the skills that I taught you, your elevation to a real spiritual force in the eyes of the council, and the fact that the world is currently teeming with unseen… All of it fed into a prophecy… and the enemy knew!"
"So I… all of this… is my fault," Ron slowly breathed out.
"Don't you dare say that," Yori instantly snapped, her face rising out of Ron's lap, her right hand weakly slapping at his side. "You are not an evil spirit scheming behind the scenes! You are a man doing his best, so don't say absurd things!"
"Master Sensei," Ron asked, sidestepping Yori's anger.
"Alive… catatonic," Yori groaned, her face dropping back into Ron's thigh.
"The blade," Ron continued, after a full minute passed.
"Gone…"
"Monkey Fist isn't the ringleader," Ron realized out loud.
"According to Reo, this evil spirit can inhabit scores of people simultaneously," Yori described, before pausing, and turning to look up at his face. "But now that the spirit has a body, he likely needs to bring it with him at a much slower speed, and he likely can't empower his hosts with anywhere near as much power…"
"We have a few hours to work with then," Ron agreed, only to grab Yori by the shoulder when she attempted to rise to her feet. "Is Reo coming."
"Yes," Yori hesitantly agreed, as she likely already saw where Ron was going with this.
"You stay here, you heal, meet with Reo when he arrives, and then come to back me up," Ron began, only to sigh in long suffering when Yori attempted again to rise to her feet. "Reo won't even know where I am! You will!"
That idea halted Yori in her tracks, exactly as intended, but then, the woman was a fighter, and she had one last attack that would assure the man act with additional caution.
Ron… " Yori quietly breathed out into Ron's stomach, her face slowly rising to look in his eyes.
"Yes," Ron asked, leery of the tone in his newest lover's voice.
"I'm your soulmate, and I'm your lover, and I can sense through this connection that you fully intend to fight, but that you're willing to die to save your women…" Yori slowly described while discarding her ruined armor. "Before you go… I desire to assure your family line…"
"I… what," Ron gasped, as Yori quickly unbuttoned the front of his gi trousers, drew free his flaccid dick, kissed him hard on the mouth, and then turned away from his body.
"We don't have time to argue," Yori all but snapped while wiggling her thighs free from her skin-tight pants and then dropping to all fours with her ass up in the air… "Breed me, Master. Then and only then will let you leave without me…