by Brandon Chen
“The operation begins now,” Yuri said, his voice distorted so that he wouldn’t sound like himself. Rather, he sounded monotonic with a new, extremely deep voice that resonated. “Kei, get on the zip line and make sure to hit the target nice and hard. We wouldn’t want any survivors. Lena, ring the bell when Kei hits the target. Let’s begin.”
Keimaro grabbed onto the zip line and pushed off of the bell tower, his heart cleansed of fear. Right now, his mind was only focused on the mission at hand. His hair blew backward as he rushed forward through the air. His heavy breathing sounded as if a massive hollow helmet had been clamped over his head, echoing in his ears as he zoomed down toward the stage below. The crowds gasped as they saw him flying through the air on the skinny line. Originally, he would’ve thought that a line this skinny would’ve broken, but now he had no doubts that Lena truly had some effective contraptions at her disposal. His iris morphed from its dark brown into a demonic red, and he saw that the politicians had already stopped their speech and were beginning to get off of the stage.
“You’re not getting away,” Keimaro’s robotic, echoing voice snarled as he kicked outward to give himself momentum. He swung back and came forward once more, a burst of flame emitting from his feet as he released his grip on the zip line, falling into open air.
Lena, Yuri, and Yata watched him, incredulous. “Is he going to survive a fall that big?” Lena asked in awe.
“Yeah. Remember, he isn’t human,” Yuri said, beginning to attach his own zip line. “Let’s go.”
***
Aika watched as the cloaked, ghost-like figure leapt down from the line with flames sending him flying through the air like jets to propel him forward. To her amazement, his body came downward at incredible speed before any of the politicians were even able to leap off of the stage. An immense explosion erupted from the stage. Flames roared upward in a pillar that flew off toward the clouds, spreading outward as scorching fire flew off in all directions, catching onto the roofs of several buildings. Dust flew up into the air in an enormous cloud, but she could already see the mysterious intruder’s silhouette emerging from the cloud, slowly standing.
“What on earth is this?” General Mundo yelled, his hands gripping the bars of the balcony, his knuckles white with shock. His face was red with frustration, and Aika could see a vein bulging from his forehead. “Riflemen! Load your weapons and prepare to fire!”
Aika watched as three other black figures dressed in similar cloaks flew down the invisible line and landed beside the first figure, bringing their total to four. In her eyes, they all looked like ghosts with white masks wearing those ominous black cloaks. Were they even human? She had heard the first figure yell before he had hit the stage, and his voice definitely wasn’t human. Not to mention the fact that an ordinary human would never survive a fall from that high.
Madam Dyrus gripped her shoulder and urged her to follow the escorts to flee the area. “Princess, we must evacuate! It is much too dangerous! Those are assassins—and inhuman ones at that! They’ll have our heads before—”
“I don’t suggest you run,” a voice from the dust spoke. The cloud began to clear, exposing all four of the cloaked figures to the crowd, who had been panicking but had calmed down slightly when they realized that the assassins weren’t yet posing a threat to innocents.
Aika’s eyes widened when she saw scattered bodies all over the stage—deformed, burned corpses that were red with raw flesh. Blood was splattered across the shattered wood. The stage itself had collapsed and was nothing but destroyed debris scattered across the area with all of the bodies of the politicians lying alongside several civilian and guard casualties. The first figure that had leapt was the one talking. He stood in the middle with the rest of his comrades behind him.
“And who are you?” the king demanded, standing up suddenly with all of the rifles of his guards trained on the four cloaked figures. “One false movement and you will be pumped with enough lead to supply an army. Choose your next moves carefully, terrorists.”
The ghostly figure chuckled, his voice mechanical and dark. He cocked his head to the side as he looked at the king with his glowing red eyes. “My name is Keimaro Hayashi. You have taken something from me, milord—my honor, my family, my home, and my happiness. You have made my life a living hell. That is why, in the last year, I made a final decision. That I would come here and kill you along with every single person in this empire. I’ll take everything from you as you have taken everything from me. With the burning flames of my hatred,” he growled as he lifted a hand. Roaring flames snarled up, catching on his hand and swirling in a vortex around his forearm that blew the black sleeves of his cloak ever so slightly, “I will destroy you, king. However, worry not. You will have several weeks before I decide to come for you, for I’ll leave you alive to watch your empire crumble.”
Aika watched as her father shifted nervously and nearly dropped his scepter, staring at Keimaro with shock and newfound fear. That was Keimaro Hayashi? She looked back at the figure. He had obtained some type of odd magical power as well … and he wanted revenge for the Bakaara massacre. Her heart thumped rapidly as she watched him. She wondered if Yata was also amongst those ghosts that stood behind him, lingering silently.
“Making such bold threats, do you think so highly of yourself?” the king boomed, his voice echoing as he stood up from his throne. “You are only a single demon boy with a small band of rogues. You hide in the shadows, but even a demon cannot conceal himself in darkness for eternity against the army of Faar. We will find you and annihilate you before you are even able to make a single step toward your goal. Do you not remember? Your entire clan was condemned to die. Are you really willing to bring your friends into this conflict with you? Are you so selfish and set on your revenge that you would drag your allies down with you for your sick goals? I enjoyed killing your family, Keimaro Hayashi, and it’s time for you to die as well. There’s no place in our world for a monster like you.”
***
Keimaro’s eyes glowed even brighter as anger swirled within him, causing his fists to shake at his sides. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off as smoke began to rise from his body. He stared at the king as his father’s image flashed into his mind. He remembered vividly what his father had said to him.
He had been sitting beside his father’s bed when he had passed from the heart attack. That was something out of Keimaro’s control. He remembered the constant look of exhaustion on his father’s face. “Kill them all,” he’d said. “Make sure that Faar pays for what they’ve done to us. Our lives were lost from the moment that they invaded. We are dead men that roam the earth. We are ghosts that haunt the terrible men that have brought pain to our past lives. Avenge me, Keimaro. Be the one to thrust the blade into the man’s blackened heart.”
A monster, huh? He looked around at the eyes of the soldiers that had locked onto him. His Shokugan eyes could see that their entire bodies were shaking with fear. It was as if they saw a creature before them, a demon, a monster, rather than a human. Keimaro’s eyes flickered to the citizens, who were staring at him with widened eyes as well. Some were whispering together, words that couldn’t be identified. But he knew that look in their eyes. He recognized it. Fear. Hatred. All of it crammed together to create the look that they wore—and how had it come to this? How had it come to him, becoming the villain?
Keimaro stared at his hands, which shook before his face. Was it because he had killed murderers? Perhaps that took away his humanity. Maybe he should’ve given up on this entire thought of revenge from the very beginning if it would’ve at least helped him keep his purity. No, he thought, it’s not because of my actions. It’s not because of anything that I’ve ever done. It’s because of my family. It’s because of these eyes. It’s because I am a member of the Hayashi clan. They all judge me to be some type of monster based on the stereotypes that they have heard in legends and stories. They supported the Hayashi clan massacre. Every last
one of them.
He recalled his mother’s smiling face, her long, black, flowing hair with her bright grin every time he had arrived home from school. He recalled her smile fading as it turned to worry every time he came home with a bruise, and he pictured the way she had comforted him and always been there for him. She was the person he had loved most in this world. They took her from me!
Keimaro yelled as a pillar of flame burst up from his body and into the dark night sky. It smashed through the inky clouds, exploding in a streak of light flying across the sky in all directions. He rushed forward in the direction of the king. He slammed his hand into the bottom of his sheath, his blade popping into the air. He gripped the hilt and whirled it as he sprinted forward. The crowds of people panicked and screamed as they separated, leaving only the soldiers in his way.
Everyone is responsible.
His sword came down, each time taking yet another life. Blood sprayed into the night air as Keimaro spun around, swinging his sword harder and harder against his opponents. The soldiers couldn’t withstand his relentless assault and all lay dead at his feet within moments. There was a crack as bullets began to fly at him from all directions, the riflemen finally letting loose. The projectile lead balls spiraled through the air as they soared toward him. Kill every last one of them. He raised his hands, and a wave of flames flew into the air, melting the bullets as soon as they reached the wall from the intensity of the fire’s heat. That is your sole purpose for existence.
***
Aika stared in shock as Keimaro tore through the line of Royal Guards as if they were nothing. The flames that he had shown off were definitely no type of ordinary magic. That pillar of flames alone showed he had incredible amounts of power. She blinked as she felt herself being lifted up by guards, who escorted her away hurriedly. She struggled, pulling away from one of the guards. She wanted to see him, up close. She didn’t know why, but after all of these years, something just drew her toward him. “Father!” she exclaimed, but her voice was swallowed by the sound of roaring flames.
A huge wall of flames sprang into existence in front of the balcony, a wave of heat smashing into her. She winced, covering her eyes from the brightness of the fire, and stared when she saw the flames separating into a perfect doorway. Keimaro flew forward and stepped gracefully onto the marble railing of the balcony. How is that possible? Her eyes were wide as she stood there, her mouth gaping open, incredulous. We’re at least five stories above the ground!
Keimaro’s cloak blew from a swift breeze as time seemed to slow. He stood there on the balcony with them, seemingly completely relaxed despite his burst of adrenaline only a moment earlier. The boy’s eyes flashed as he flipped off of the railing, slamming his heel into the back of General Mundo’s head. With a crack, the man’s skull slammed hard into the ground, leaving him unconscious. General Mundo had led Faar’s armies into battle dozens—maybe hundreds—of times and had been always victorious. Yet, here he was, being defeated so easily. It seemed to take hardly any effort for Keimaro because he stepped over the unconscious body with his sword unsheathed as he whirled it. He advanced on Aika’s father, the king sinking back into his throne, his face pale.
The other soldiers had rushed forward, and the sounds of scraping steel echoed loudly. Then silence fell as all of the warriors pointed their blades at Keimaro. The tip of Keimaro’s sword pressed against the king’s throat, drawing a small line of blood. Guns clicked as they were armed from multiple rooftops, all aimed straight at Keimaro, ready to pump him full of lead the very moment he decided to assassinate the king. But, none of the Royal Guards dared to make a move. A single movement could provoke Keimaro to assassinate the king right there. Tension filled the air as everyone stood frozen in place.
Aika stared at her father in disbelief and then at Keimaro. “Kei, stop this! Don’t you recognize me? I’m Aika, the princess from four years ago! Please, put your sword down! I’m sure this is all—”
“A misunderstanding?” Keimaro said, his head lowered. “No, it’s not. Your father means every word that has ever left his lips. He is the one responsible for the death of my real family and my new one. He’s the killer who took my mother from me. He’s the one who destroyed my village and everything in it. He took everything from me!” Flames shot upward around him, causing some of the Royal Guard to flinch, but they held their ground. “So, king, give me one reason why I shouldn’t lop off this senseless head of yours?”
The king gulped as he pressed his back to the throne and gave a nervous chuckle. “Well, I’ve heard that you’ve been looking for a particular girl. Would be a shame if she were to be killed after you lopped off my head, hmm?”
Aika saw Keimaro’s eyes widen through his mask. Who was her father talking about? Clearly, it was someone dear to Keimaro from the way he was reacting. She could see his free hand shaking at his side as well as his handle on his hilt tightening. This wasn’t good. It looked as if her father were actually provoking Keimaro. She wanted to step forward but was pulled backward and away from the scene, gripped tightly by guards.
“Stop, wait!” she exclaimed in protest, but they lifted her up and hauled her away. Her eyes followed Keimaro until he vanished from view.
***
Keimaro couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Was this some kind of a bluff? The Bounts had taken his sister, not this old man. Could they have handed her over to the king? His heart was pounding, and he could feel himself heating up internally. He couldn’t kill the king now; he knew that. Why was he even up here on this balcony? What had gotten into him that he had been such an idiot as to abandon the mission and pursue his own selfish desires? He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Yuri, Yata, and Lena were all surrounded by soldiers. They had their hands up in the air in a sign of surrender, and the soldiers were advancing on them. He had messed everything up. Now everyone was going to be caught and probably killed because of him.
No, I can still get out of this. I just have to focus. I can’t let this old man get to my head! This is what he wanted all along.
The entire time, Keimaro noticed that the king was eying the key that was around his neck. No doubt the king had his father’s chest in his possession, but this wasn’t the time to pester him about it. For now, he just had to focus on fixing his mistakes and saving his friends. But what to do? He blinked and looked straight at the king, who returned a confused glance. Why not?
He reached out and grabbed the king with both hands, lifting him into the air. The soldiers stepped forward, about to slash him at the single movement. “If you so much as take another step, I can turn your beloved king into ashes before your eyes,” he said simply, freezing every soldier in the entire area.
“Take the shot!” one Royal Guard snapped to a rifleman.
“I can’t! What if I hit the king?” the rifleman countered, knowing very well that if he shot the king, it would result in a death penalty for him and his family. The risk was far too high, and the pressure would’ve probably caused him to mess up the shot. Not to mention, he had only just begun his training with the rifle. He still wasn’t confident in his own ability to make such a gamble.
Keimaro grabbed the king and held him over the side of the balcony, gripping the man by both of his arms to hold him up. His sword had already been sheathed, and he was now unarmed. This had to work; otherwise, he would probably be killed.
“Step away from my accomplices,” Keimaro ordered, and the soldiers all looked up in unison, their faces pale. Gasps erupted from the groups of people who still had the guts to stay and watch the spectacle. The soldiers began to slowly take steps backward, freeing Keimaro’s friends. They sheathed their swords as they turned to face the new threat.
“Run,” he said simply to his friends.
Yuri and Lena broke off into a sprint almost immediately, but Yata stood there staring at Keimaro blankly for a moment before Lena yanked on his arm, dragging him away from the scene. The crowds of people separated around them as they sprin
ted off, but no soldiers ran after them. Instead, all of the weapons and eyes were trained on Keimaro, who had to somehow escape this dire situation.
Keimaro didn’t want to kill the king yet. He knew that the king would know the location of his father’s chest, but now was definitely not the time to ask him. He saw that the groups of soldiers were hovering below the king, ready to catch him. Their arms were outstretched, as if prompting Keimaro to drop their lord—and that was exactly what Keimaro did.
Trusting that the soldiers would catch him or that the king would only break a limb from the fall, he released the king. In that single instant, the Royal Guards that had been posted on the balcony rushed at him with their brandished swords, slashing wildly. The crack of bullets split the air as riflemen took their opportunity to fire at Keimaro. His eyes saw the spiraling lead balls flying at him from multiple directions, and he knew that it was impossible to dodge. He spun around, grabbing the nearest soldier who came at him and using him as a shield. He heard sudden thuds as bullets buried themselves into the soldier. Stray projectiles slammed into the armor and bodies of other soldiers, smacking into mail and tearing through flesh. Screams of agony split the air as the Royal Guards ducked down in unison, trying to avoid the friendly-fire.
Keimaro saw the chaos and took the opportunity to make a mad dash for it, ejecting a large jet of flame behind him in order to burst himself forward and through the archway that left the balcony. The soldiers had taken Aika this way; he knew there must be some type of exit. Bullets tore through the walls and whirled through the opening, flying past him. He grunted, throwing himself to the ground, his heart pounding. After a couple of seconds, there was silence. The Royal Guards had begun to stand up already. Perhaps the riflemen were reloading or the Guard had signaled for them to stop firing. Either way, Keimaro knew he had to get moving.
