By Jeremy

December 4, 1998

It hurt. It hurt a lot to kill.

This is what the man who called - and was called - Necro thought as he slumped in the somber corner of the most decrepit basement he had found. He had meticulously washed his hands - his white, elongated, not-totally-human hands - but still felt as if he'd had his hands red with blood. The blood of people who had not been enemies, who had nothing to do with his present state, his rage, his thirst for revenge.

Yet he'd killed them. Because THEY had told him they could use their powers to make him human again. And he couldn't - WOULDN'T - pass up the chance for a taste of humanity.

He'd been human once - of that he was certain, despite all the fog that kept his memories from him, filling him with distress, despite the images of the experiments and the change that flashed when he did, shaking him with the pain and fear which they contained, he had been certain he had walked in the sun with other people before, not an object of terror and contempt who had to hide from others.

Since his escape - even it was fuzzy in his head, but he remembered killing back there too, white coats, doctors, scientists, he'd actually felt GOOD about killing those people, all before he ran away, and ran and ran, until he came here, to this great city. And where he'd met them. They told him that they understood his problem, that they were enemies of his enemy, Gill - ahrr! he couldn't even think the name without seeing RED! - and that they could undo what he had ordered done to him. IF, of course, he could do a few things for them first...

He'd accepted blindly.

And now, he was starting to feel that all this was only working to damn him even more. He'd killed the first few eagerly at first - soft people, their struggles had been futile - but after that, he had started to doubt what he was doing. Something, very deep within him, was starting to scream, telling him that it wasn't right, that he was really a caring young man, who would never hurt people, despite his greater-than-average strength. He'd started off by telling the voice to mind its own DAMN business, but it had remained, and made him wonder.

After all, he had never felt any good killing, since his escape. In fact, he felt chilled and strangely chilled. Revolted, that was it. He felt revolted with himself. He was becoming like Gill.

"NO!" he screamed to the basement, dark despite the bright morning outside. "I'm not like him! I'll never be like him! I just...I...I just want to be human again!" he closed his eyes - his demonic, glowing yellow eyes, and gave a muffled sob.

He heard a sound. A scraping sound. Multiple feet. Not normal timbre, or weight - these people knew how to prevent noisses - professionals. Dangerous. Hunters, maybe. Most probably, if these happened to belong to any agency of the law - with him killing Interpol people, he certain mustn't be very popular back with them. He played with the idea of surrendering - that way, he was certain that he'd never be hurting any innocent again. He didn't want to kill...

But if they did, they'd put him in jail, or worse, put him in a place where they'd look at him like some experiment, some freak, some LAB RAT! NO! NEVER! He'd die before he was sent back with these kind of people! He would die before they ever caught him again. He would never live in a CAGE or a LAB again!

He stood up and, with a speed that wasn't entirely natural in its fluidity, moved off toward a a door in the basement. He had found that it led to a series of tunnels that criss-crossed a good portion of the city. It had been built, from what he'd gathered, during the second global war or something, used by refugees and resistance fighters as refuge and base to the then-invading Japanese. Whether they'd been used then he couldn't tell, but they'd been forgotten for a long time by the time he did his own exploration. It had allowed him to move at ease below a city that would have shunned him anyway, doing the deeds that seemed increasingly foul and dirty now.

People came down the stairs between him and his escape, their feet more pressant. Urgent. Determined. He heard the click of a gun which safety had been disengaged, and someone called out, a male voice. It was spoken in Chinese, but he'd been around the city long enough to understand the simple message which had been shouted his way.

"Interpol! Stay where you are! You are under arrest for..."

He didn't hear more as his mind filled with maddened panic. Interpol! The organization that his victims had worked for! They had found him, were hunting him. There would be no mercy from these people. They'd want revenge, would hurt him for the deaths of his comrades. No! Flee! Fight! Resist. A madness took hold of him, consumed the reasoning part of his mind, and made him something else.

Howling a strange, guttural screech, he charged the people coming down the stairs.

They were easy prey. They faltered as he charged - the sane part of his mind told him the howl, mixed up with his strange, alien-like appearance, must have been so spooky it actually overrode their training. He took hold of one of the men before he could fire, hit him with a fist that was charged with a madness born of terror, knocking him out. He then flung the man out towards the other, bodily. He collided with them, sent them tumbling in a heap at his feet. He growled at them, then ran toward his escape route.

He then felt the bullet enter his shoulder.

The pain. Red, flashing, it was so excruciating he actually stopped dead in his track for a moment. It was costly, for he never had time to recollect his thoughts before he felt an impact - a foot, it seemed - which sent him a few feet off. He scrambled to a fighting stance rapidly, warily. It had been very long indeed since he'd felt a blow like this one. It had really hurt! That, along with the bullet wound searing his shoulder, was actually weakening him a bit. He faced the one who'd managed such a feet.

He saw that the one before him was a woman, and a very beautiful one, he could tell. Dressed in a strange, Asian suit, she seemed out of place here, yet fit perfectly. Athletic, steel-eyed, she exuded a force which commanded respect, and showed that she was someone who had fought and survived beings such as he. She seemed amazed by him, disgusted of course, but not fearful like all the others had been. She was standing at a ready position, resolute, deadly.

Behind her stood another woman, holding a gun leveled at him. That one seemed more out of place, but only because she was a non-Asian in a definitely Asian city. She was slightly smaller than the one who'd hit him, with striking blond hair tied in two long braids. Her eyes were cold, as fearless as the other, and she two commanded a very powerful aura. Necro knew that there was no way he could defeat both. One, perhaps, but certainly not both! His fear returned with this thought.

"Come with us." said the Asian woman, in a very stern, cold voice. "You are under arrest for the murders of Interpol agents."

He shook his head, panic taking over him he raised his energetic level, focusing his bioelectrical energy, letting it gather into his good arm, letting the fear and the desperation feed it. The rise of his power must have been felt, for the two women stiffened, and the Chinese took a position, shifting her hands together, a bluish hue soon surrounding them. He knew he had to act now, before she should attack. He gathered the electricity, flung his good arm towards her, and released it.

"ELECTRIC STORM!!"

The electricity lashed out, but before it could reach the two, the Asian threw her arms forward, aglow with energy. She also screamed.

"KIKOSHO!!"

A ball of energy spiral, caught the electric attack, and energy met energy in a beautiful symphony of power. The flash was powerful, and as it exploded, the conflagration pushed all of the combatants in opposite directions. Flung into the air, Necro came to ground with impacting his wounded shoulder. He screamed, but refused to do anymore than this. Smoke had risen from the explosion, and he knew not where his enemies where. But he knew where his escape route was.

Grunting against the pain, he got up, stood unsteadily, then made his way to the door, his yellow eyes streaked with oily tears. His strength returned with every step, the cause of his faster-than-human healing process. He opened the door, looked at the dark, endless tunnel in which he was now forced to flee, and suddenly felt insanely angry. He turned toward where his opponents must be stirring right at that moment.

"If only you understood what it is!" he screamed in halting Chinese, his voice shaking with grief and rage "If only you understood what its like to know you were once a man, and be nothing but a MONSTER evermore!"

And with this spiteful, rageful salve, he stepped into the tunnel, into the darkness, where no one could touch him.

Except his own guilt, and his own grief.

* * * * * * * * * *

Around the same time...

Ibuki awoke from the endless darkness feeling weak and dizzy, disoriented to all that was around her. She did not recognize this place at all, this wasn't home, where was she? A moment of panic ensued, as she tried to sit up quickly. Her body immediately told her in no uncertain terms that it wasn't the time for such follies, as weakness subjugated her, forcing her to lay back down with a groan.

"If I were you, I wouldn't try that yet, not until your brain works fully again." came a cold, deep voice. "You've been subjected to an attack by a very high-level psychic, and been out for nearly three weeks. Give your body time."

This wise advice actually caused her memory to rearrange itself. She was in Limerick, Ireland. She'd come here after finally finding where the man Everick hid, wishing to challenge him to regain her pride. She'd surprised the dangerous man, and had actually started winning the battle which had ensued. But just as things were tipped in her favor, the Limerick Lord himself, Kale, had appeared, attacking her in her mind and casting her into an unconsciousness that she had thought would be eternal. Apparently she had been wrong.

And apparently she was in her bed, weaker than she ever felt before in her life, at the mercy of the very man she had nearly defeated. Thus, try as she might, she was starting to feel a very real terror run up her spine. This scene was obviously not missed by the man, who approached her from the rooms's window, where he'd been standing looking outside.

"Calm yourself. I will not harm you. And regrettably, you must remember that if I'd wanted to do anything....misplaced....I could have done so while you were unconscious."

She did not take that as reassuring news. In fact, it made her fear and wariness increased tenfold. "And did you do anything?" she asked, keeping her voice calm. He seemed surprised at the question, then actually a little bit irritated.

"Of course not. I do not do such things, not to anyone, and certainly not to one such as you. Steer your mind away from that path of thought." he said, coldly but with a hint of angry fire.

She shook her head, trying to clear it. She was relieved that the man didn't do anything, but maybe he'd just waited until this moment to try something - he was once again at his full power, while she was reduced to her lowest ebb. If he did, it was certain there would be nothing she could do to prevent it - even thought something believed him when he said he would do nothing of the sort. That was when she remembered another part of his comment, and her surprise and confusion only increased at it.

"You...saved my life...from Kale?" she asked.

A slow nod answered her.

"But...why?" she asked again. At this he actually seemed to hesitate, to ponder his words, deciding whether to voice them or not. At last he gave a very tired sigh, and she saw the mask of cold and indifference slip away for a few moments, revealing a man who seemed troubled, worried, even a little grieved.

"I...I don't know yet. I can't answer this." he said softly. The moment passed, the steel returned to the features, the frost to the voice. "What I can say is that I respect you. Very much so, and that I did not wish you to die like some mongrel dog."

She lay there, stunned, not truly believing her ears. From what she had heard, the Shadow Walker had never prevented any deaths. In fact, he had effectuated many of his own. His hands were stained with much blood, his name spoken fearfully by the people on the streets. To hear him hesitate, grow soft, seemed so...wrong somehow. She couldn't explain it, except that it clashed with the way she had envisioned him.

Still, she couldn't let it go completely at that. "Twice, you saved me now - no, not only that, you SPARED me-&quoot;

"Kale spared you last time."

"At YOUR request, and thus it is YOU to which I owe my life." she continued, as hotly as she both could and dared. "Twice! And yet you..." she then started to cough, her throat atrociously dry. Her eyes became cloudy, and when she stopped and everything cleared, she saw the somber man, all arrayed in black, holding a glass of water to her. She took it, but her hands were still weak, clumsy. She nearly dropped the thing, but then he steadied it with his own hand, actually helping her to drink.

She felt both angry and flattered at the helping hand. Angry, for her weakness made her look like some sick child who needed help every step of the way and flattered because of the show of respect and sympathy he gave to her, even if all wrapped in an icy package. But more than anything else she was thunderstruck. What was he doing? How could he even care whether she was weak and thirsty?

'Why? Why are you so merciful towards me? You are such an enigma!' she thought.

When she was finished, he set the glass aside and stood. His expression didn't change, but she sensed a certain urgency about his stance.

"Once you have rested, it will be imperative that you leave Limerick, in fact Ireland as a whole. I used all of my leverage to have you spared this time. Believe me, would you stay here longer than necessary, Kale would kill you, and there would be no way for me to stop from doing so." Flatly, said, but with a pressant undertone.

"Leave? But my challenge..." she protested.

"I accepted it and we fought. You had the upper hand," he paused, a bitter pause it was, "And it seems clear to me that had we continued to fight, I would have lost. Go back to Japan and claim victory, I will agree if I am ask. As long as you go, I won't mind it."

'It seems this day is filled with surprise after surprise.' Ibuki thought in wonderment. I WON'T MIND IT?!? This was the first time she'd ever seen a powerful fighter say that he really wouldn't MIND being given a defeat that probably would have been but never was. What kind of reasoning was this? She didn't have the answer, but her pride as a shinobi simply couldn't allow it to happen this way.

She shook her head. "No, our fight has to be clean, with challenge, battle, and victory for one side. My clan will not..."

"Don't do this. Don't continue this ridiculous vendetta. You've avenged your honor." he said stiffly.

"As I said, my clan..."

And that was it it seemed. The mask fled for a moment, swept away by an explosion of fury. The Shadow Walker's face - the face of the assassin who was said to never lose his head or his cold reason, contorted under deep emotions, his eyes flashed with wrath, and his hands clenched at his sides. A barely contained predator. Now she started to really fear this man, and to pity the soul who will one day bring these pent-up negative emotions upon itself.

"SCREW YOUR CLAN!!!" he roared, then his tone descended to a lower octave, although it stayed just as emotional. "If this is the great Geki's will, then he was ever a fool! Don't you dare continue this. Don't make me choose again. The balance went for you the last time, it may not the next."

She cringed back, but stopped as the tal man grabbed one of her hands and held it, pressing it surprisingly gently.

"Don't make me search my soul...for I have no wish to know...to understand..." he let go, struggling to pull himself together. She looked at him with a quizzical and frightened expression.

"Sir, what do you mean by this?" she couldn't help but ask, but obtained nothing else but the weary shake of the man's head.

He moved away from her, his head bent, and went to the window again, looking at the bright day outside. As seconds passed, his old shell closed again, and when he resumed talking, he just seemed tired, and very neutral.

"Just make sure that you go."

And he became shadowy at this, his form shifting away in the shadows, until there was no one left but she inside the room. She lay back on her bed, weak and dizzy with unanswered questions, the most important of which seemed to hold so many mysteries.

Why? Why did Everick the Shadow Walker cared this much about her?

* * * * * * * * * *

One hour later...

"You know as well as I that we may well be wasting our time." whispered Cammy as she followed her commander and newest friend through tunnels built sixty years before this day.

Chunli couldn't help but sigh in answer. The braided agent took this as an occasion to pounce.

"After all, we don't know where this trail will lead us. My bullet may be coated with a slightly radioactive substance, but who's to say he hasn't removed it? And just so you know, he must know these tunnels pretty well, and we don't."

"Are you saying that we should turn back?" the Asian woman inquired, an edge to her voice. Cammy stiffened as she heard it, her eyes - hidden as they were behind the spectrum goggles - glared at the other woman's back.

"That was unfair and bloody low, Chunli." she hissed. "I want the guy nearly as much as you do, but I can see we're being out matched here. This is his home terrain."

"Perhaps." was the stiff reply "But I can't let him escape to take another life. We can handle that...person. Now lets go, we've lost enough time!"

She didn't wait for any type of acknowledgement, simply continuing on her path, assuming that her partner would follow. The blonde couldn't help but let off a hiss of frustration before she followed as her friend wished. Damn Chunli sometimes! And the guys at SCD thought that SHE, Cammy, was bossy! Well, then, let them come up here and see just one session of the Chinese girl in full command mode and there would be cause to reconsider the definition of the word!

When that weird creature, that Necro, had disappeared inside these darn tunnels, Chunli had immediately ordered that spectrum goggles be brought to them, and had gone with Cammy in tow without waiting for the rest of the team. Not surprising, not surprising at all, for that woman was extremely driven, up to the point of obsession if she felt like she had a good reason to be on someone's trail. And Necro had killed some people she'd known for a while. And that was reason enough.

They continued on the trail, dropping a penny-sized tracer every fifty meters so that they could retrace their route. It was only after a little while that they heard the faint sounds of heavy breathing. Getting closer. Fast. The guy - or thing, if one was cruel enough - had evidently sensed them tailing him and had decided he wasn't running any more. Cammy wasn't too nervous - the tunnel had been built to provide shelter, and thus was roomy enough to move, or fight.

Cammy stopped as she heard the sounds, taking on an aggressive fighting martial arts stance. "All right, ugly!" she called "You're coming with me even if I have to break every f*cking bone in you damn white, freakish body!"

Another thing Cammy had learned: when pissed, Chunli lost all sense of diplomacy, not caring if she somehow ticked off her prey or opponent by her remarks. And right now she seemed very pissed. The rasping breath stopped for a moment. She could see him with the spectrum - twenty-five meters in front of them, waiting, stooping a little. What strange arms and legs. What had caused something like this to be.

And then Necro gave out a cry, and charged.

His arm elongated toward Chunli, who sidestepped it and ran towards him. Cammy saw the strange thing stay put as she charged, indrawn within himself, and remembered what had happened in the basement. She had no time to shout a warning before the thing grabbed Chunli and gave off a shock of electricity through her body. She screamed and stiffened, using her powerful leg to kick free and away.

His attention being turned completely toward a momentarily dazed brunette, the British woman quickly called forth her chi from deep within her, channeled it through her body, and then threw her attack at Necro before he could rectify his priorities from the momentarily disabled woman to the fully active one.

"CANNON DRILL!!"

He saw it coming. Saw the blue and purple ram go his way, but far too late to do more than stare. The impact was bone-cracking, and the thing was flung back by at least twenty feet. Cammy looked, and saw that Chunli had recovered from the attack he had done, and looked, if that was at all possible, even more pissed off than before. Before the man-creature recovered, they both charged him.

He defended himself like a caged beast, but they knew better than to lay off even for a second. So they ran circles around the thing, forcing it to defend perpetually, wearing it down, forcing it to give ground before them. If it tried to hit, they went through the opening, one blocking and staling the closure of his defenses for a mere few moments, more then enough time for one devastating attack.

Finally this strategy paid off. In a blind panic, Necro grabbed Cammy by the throat, but failed to see Chunli sliding to his unprotected flank. He sensed her, let go of his momentary captive, but it was too late, as the Interpol agent let loose her patented lightning kicks - a blur of kicks, uncountable, which pummeled Necro until he reeled back clutching his head and torso, leaning back against the wall. Cammy called upon her inner strengths, and started to charge at the creature, when he did something that stopped her cold.

It broke down, and started to sob like a little, lost child. It triggered memories of herself - in the Shadowlaw Cell, after her ordeal at the lab, after failing to show her love to the man of her life. She had broken down like him. And then something flashed within her mind, something that could only be the truth: this was a victim, a victim of the cruelty of others.

"No...nonono....I...just wanted to be human again...they promised...circle...sorry for them...just wanted...WANTED MY HUMANITY BACK!!" he finally exploded in one heart-wrenching cry.

So that was it. So the Circle was definitely behind these murders, using the distraught state of a tortured victim. She could relate. She'd been lucky to have SCD and most of all Jeremy as helpful hands in her rehabilitation. She might otherwise have ended up like this - driven to kill, for the promise of hope. She stopped in her tracks, then went to sit beside the weeping man-thing. Chunli seemed to be having difficulty choosing between awe and anger as she saw her do this.

"Cammy! What are you doing?!?" she hissed, her own position still ready.

"Doing the only thing I can do for him, right now." she sighed back, holding out her hand and patting the strange, deformed man on the back sympathetically. Strange, pupilless eyes looked out at her, confused, beseeching hope or at least comprehension. She gave a soft, slight smile.
"The Circle lied to you to make you murder these people, I hope you realize that."

"I...think...so." was the hesitant answer.

She nodded. She had been right. This wasn't the way of an assassin or a monster. This was the way young, very lost man held himself when life had completely turned its back upon him. This was an hopeless man. Within a moment, she had made her decision, and spoke to Necro once more.

"I can't promise help for your body." she said "But I can promise you understanding, and possibly friendship, in the long run."

Chunli finally let down her guard at that and sighed. "I can't believe that I'm really hearing this."

Cammy stayed on Necro, as he looked back at her, his expression that of wonder and caution. She held out her hand.

"Come with me, Necro. Come seek out the truth. I can help you, as will others...if you dare trust us."

The deformed man looked at her hand, at her face, at Chunli's angry but curious face, back and forth, obviously uncertain as to what he should do. But finally, reluctantly, he clasped Cammy's hand with his own. Cammy smiled, for she knew that this meant he was willing to take a chance with them, with her.

"You won't regret it." she whispered to his uncertain, grief-filled, desperate face.

She just hope she hadn't made a very big, dangerous, and life-shattering lie.

* * * * * * * * * *

Two days later...

Telekinesis was an hard power to master, even for the highest-leveled psychics who lived on the Earth. To master it, one needed constant practice and more than a little share of patience, if one wanted to achieve more subtle thing than simply hurling things around. For actions which entailed finesse, hard work was necessary. Fortunately Rose had always been a very hard worker where mental powers were concerned.

She sat on a chair, dressed in a simple yet elegant coat to keep out the fresh air of Venice's December, just outside her Victorian mansion, overlooking her large, private backyard. In front of her, three dart target boards were set up on top of wooden poles. Next to her, on a small duskwood table, nine darts lay. She did not look at either, but instead had her eyes closed. Indeed had one looked from afar, one would have thought the beautiful, lavender-haired woman was slumbering. Upon closer inspection, however, the lines of stress and concentration would have showed her true condition.

Her eyebrows twitched, and all nine darts drifted up, evenly, lifted by her powerful mind powers. Another twitch, and they separated into three groups of three dart, and drifted to face the targets from a normal dart-throwing distance. They stayed there for many moments, and her twitch became a frown. At that moment, one dart from each group was thrown at great speed, impacting the center of each target simultaneously. A second salvo followed soon after, hitting the previous darts. And then the third salvo went off. However, one of the three missed its target by a minuscule hair, ricocheting off the two darts and went down to the ground.

She opened her eyes with a slightly irritated hiss, then felt a presence near her. In a split second she'd recognized it, and never even alarmed herself.

"So...Herman, I see you've watched my last practice." she said softly "I hope you didn't find it too boring."

The green-haired, younger psychic came to stand beside her, dressed far less elegantly, but still with taste. He wore black pant and a deep blue heavy vest, and had a pair of sunglasses to keep his eyes from the glare of the day. He looked at the targets, then back at her, grinning excitedly.

"Are you kidding?!?" he said happily "That was incredible - an outstanding work of psychic visualization! I've never seen anyone do something like this with his or her eyes closed!"

"I missed one." she noted simply, a bit uncomfortable with the excited praise. He probably felt that, too, but seemed to prefer ignoring her subtle warnings.

"So?" he asked "Eight out of nine is still more than damn impressive. I can barely manage six out of the same number, and THAT was with my eyes open! Eyes closed, there's little I can do." He seemed ready to continue on this line of praise, thus she quickly steered the conversation to a trail more interesting to her.

"I doubt you are here solely to praise my proficiency at an activity all high-level psychics practice from time to time." she cut in gently, raising an eyebrow. "So why are you here today, what is your reason?"

His youthful, intelligent face clouded with uncertainty and hesitation at this, giving her the clues that she needed. Even though she couldn't read his thoughts, as he was protected - and even if he wasn't, it would have gone against her personal sets of morals - she could tell what he wanted to tell her.

"So, the others haven't responded yet." she stated, making him jump a bit.

Nervously, he brushed away a green lock of hair. "Well, they haven't said no..." he stopped, knowing his voice had no note of optimism to it. She understood him perfectly, for she herself felt more than just a little bitter about the situation.

How could it be? How could they not understand. The Elders were ever the basis, the core of the Circle ever since its foundation centuries before, in times of ignorance and superstition. They kept everything together, stopping the Lair Lords who, if no one was there to watch over them, would kill each other off out of greed and petty hatreds. And right now was the best time to take care of them.

She had kept herself updated on the situation on the Underground War that the Circle had instigated, and had found that they were already starting to crumble. Many upper world agencies were actively working against them now, spurred by the aggressive stance that the British MI6 had taken. Underworld organizations had allied themselves with the Circle, but when it became clear that huge, influential underworld powers such as Shadowlaw, the Yakuza and the Italian Mafia refused their help, smaller bands had stopped given aid, finally all but cutting off the Circle from the rest of the world.

It was time to act, with it on the brink as it was, before the lawful agencies let up their battering and allowed the Elders to rebuild. But did they seem to even care? No, they really seem not to do so.

And that, this indifference, both angered and saddened her.

Her little speech about not renouncing their humanity even if they no longer cared about the mortal humans in general, did it really touch them, or had they just been momentarily silenced, to fall back to the bickering that made them look, had they taken a care to notice, every bit like a bunch of frustrated, squabbling mortals? She didn't know and frankly did not care anymore. No longer could she allow herself to wait.

She stood and faced the green-haired psychic. "I can no longer wait for them to make their minds. I will strike the Elders myself, and hope that I am strong enough on my own."

"That's just crazy!" he exclaimed "There are rumored to be six Elders. Six, and each of them very powerful a bastard. As strong as you are, they'll defeat you!"

She nodded, her determined expression not changing, a slight, calm smile crossing her face. "You are quite right. It is most than probable that I shall die - quickly, I dare hope. But even thought I'll die, so will some of them, for I will not die alone." She stopped as she suddenly felt powers materializing - no, unfolding, near her. She turned quickly, irritated that she hadn't felt such concentrated power before.

Close to her, looking rather pleased for some reason, stood eight others of the twelve which had been at her little convocation. She saw François, the old, wise psychic, as well as three females and four males. Although each stood behind both Herman and François, they all boasted more than a little power, and knew how to use it.

The old, short psychic smiled up at her, his eyes twinkling. "Well said, Rose, my dear! You acted the way you hoped you would. Sorry for hiding our presence, but we had to be sure before committing ourselves."

For one of a very few times in her life, Rose found herself speechless, babbling a bit. "What? Be sure?" she stuttered. Herman jumped in, apologetic.

"We had to know if you were dedicated enough to hold such an offensive, Rose."

"Now that we do, we are ready." said a tall, dark-skinned man.

"We too have watched, and see the time is ripe, to strike at the Elders while their position is weak." added a female, a short, blue-haired, chubby girl of very youthful appearance.

"And so," finished François "We have decided to aid you by adding our own powers to locate and eliminate the Elders the next time they meet."

For long moments, she was caught between anger and joy. Anger because she had been used by others to make a decision for them. How dare they? And also joy, for the simple fact that some of them, except three - that annoying Danish included - had actually listened and understood the importance of her message and warning. After a moment of indecision, joy won out, but she remained calm even as she smiled.

"I am very glad to find that most of you still consider yourselves humans deep inside of yourselves." she stated "But surely you know, that even if we put our powers together, some of us may die."

"Everyone dies sometime, except the Ancients at least." said Herman lightly. "We want to fight, Rose. We don't want to become like the Elders." A chorus of approval followed this declaration.

Rose only smiled. They had believed her. They were ready to fight with the strength that their humanity gave them.

Let the Elders BEWARE!

* * * * * * * * * *

As the days passed...

December 7, 1998, Hong Kong

My dear love,

What an hectic week this has been, and what a strange one! We found the guy who was responsible for the murders and arrested him...temporarily. Because I think he's not responsible for the murders he committed. Heh, I know that it all seems to be a big contradiction in terms, so I'll try to explain it better. Now, how to begin?

Right, the history. Its clear Necro is a lab experiment, used by people who twisted his body for their uses, transforming him into the grotesque figure he is now. The trauma of it made him forget almost everything about his past human life, his past work and the experiment. The only thing the dominates him now is thirst for revenge against a man called Gill - have you heard of him? I haven't yet, except for faint things on the street. That and his desire to become human again. The Circle lied that they could make him human again,and he was desperate enough to trust their word.

I know, I know, its not really an excuse. But, love, please believe me when I say that he doesn't look like a killer, he doesn't have that cold glint in his eyes. He's just desperate. I'm trying to get him under the supervision of SCD. Chunli's rather upset at me - can't blame her, she lost people that she knew. But I just can't let him go without trying to help him, you understand? It wouldn't be right.

Now that that's out, I want to know if everything's all right where you are. Are things stable again in your part of America. Its been quiet the last few days from the reports I heard, but I'd like you to tell me that everything's all right, yourself. I know it sounds silly, but I,ll feel better if you do. Also, what happens with your problem with that idiot Desmarais? What did Julia decide?

Well, that's it for now, my fiancé - heh, I just wanted to write that! I have little left to write, except to say that this war better end soon, so things settle down and we can finally see each other again. And stay together.

Take good care of yourself,

Cammy
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December 14, Washington

My dear love,

I read your letter and I've rushed to answer it. It sure did give me food for thoughts, especially since I was worried about you fishing out that murderer at last. I must admit that I was rather shocked at first by your letter's content, but then I started to think about it, and found that it wasn't that bad after all.

Let me start off by saying that I didn't agree with you at first. Necro had killed many people, and that shouldn't go unpunished - and before you even say it, no, its not like you, you had NO choice, he DID. I can understand Chunli's upset, Guile seemed to agree with her too. However, you're quite right, the guy was desperate and clung to whatever he could find, grasping at straws. I've no wish to condemn a guy like that. He deserves a second chance.

And you vouch for him, so I will too. Don't worry about it, I'll write a note to Julia to back you on this. However, I'd really like to meet this Necro and make my own judgement on him. Its harsh, I know, but I need it for my own conscience.

Now, about my work here. Well, its VERY calm in America now. Things have settled down on the streets, so much that I've got some time to visit my friends in Greenway. I just might, I'd like to see Alex, Nate and Claudia a bit. As for Desmarais...there's little to say. Julia doesn't want to fire him just yet even though I'm wanting the darn guy out of the way. She is currently working on a more suitable punishment, as she said to me last time. Oh well, I can win them all now, can I?

They say that sometimes distance can lessen the love one feels for another. What I've found is that it can also strengthen it. How I wish to feel you sweet, soft lips against mine again, its unbelievable. I want to see my friends, sure, but I want to see you a thousand times more. You're right, this war better finish fast!

Because I'm falling more and more in love with you.

Yours always,

Jeremy
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December 22, Hong Kong

Dear sweet Jer,

Christmas in three days! I won't be there to spend it with you, but I'll buy you a gift for sure! I've just read you letter and I want to say: thank you. Thank you for believing I'm somehow doing the right thing with the Necro business. Although Chunli has accepted it and acts normal again around me, I think some of the other Interpol agents still have a grudge against my decision. As I once said, I can't blame them at all.

It seems that Julia is willing to give me the benefit of the doubt as well. She's agreed to take Necro into SCD custody. I wasn't sure she could pull this off, but its clear that when old Brisby decided to take her as his successor, it wasn't for no good reason. Necro seems happy to have the possibility of a second chance. He told me to send you his thanks, and that he wishes to see you, too!

I'm really glad to know about America, and that everything's clamed down back there. Its calmer here, too, it appears that when Necro was stopped, the Circle decided to leave Hong Kong alone. That's two for us, and probably more, cuz I don't think the others failed, or I would've heard of it, especially here, in the Interpol Headquarters.

I'm sorry to hear you're still stuck with that bloody cretin, Desmarais, but I suppose it couldn't be helped. I'm sure Julia knows what kind of punishment he deserves. So just hang in there a little while longer, my love!

Despite the fact that I'm tired as I've ever felt in my life, I got to say that I feel good, jittery inside. Why? Because we'll see each other again soon, I'm sure of it! Oh, it'll be for something big, I'm sure, the war's not over yet. But at least we'll be together. And that makes me feel so good!

Always remember that I love you more than life.

Yours forever,

Cammy
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December 26, 1998, Washington

My beloved,

Its Christmas time! America has been flooding - and is STILL flooding -with festivities these past few days, and right now I got to admit that I'm in the mood! Can you believe it? I got called back! Oh, happy day! And since I've been called back, it means that you and the other also will be! We'll finally be together again, my sweet love!

Everything here is calm now, and Guile has prepared a going-away party for the SCD. Knowing him, we'll end up drunk, but who am I to spoil the mood? I'll take the headache that'll come in the morning with a smile, since I know I'll be coming back to you!

Desmarais' been quiet these past days, what a relief. Perhaps he's caught up in the generous mood of Christmas, and has generously decided to shut up? As long as he stays quiet, I'm happy.

I know that this letter is short, but it'll be hectic to prepare to leave. Anyway, I'll tell you everything when we finally meet again! However I'll tell you this: I've got two gifts for you this Christmas, and I can't wait to give them to you! Merry Christmas, my love, and see you in London!

The man who adores you,

Jeremy