Chapter 30

January 13, 1999

The first thing that Jeremy knew when he had felt as much as seen Kale was that this guy truly was a lot more than met the eyes. An ever-present smile was on his face, rarely faltering, but underneath it lay a cold and calculating mind which gave him goosebumps. An ordinary physique, but also a deceiving one. For unlike his rumored to be brother, the Lord of Shadowlaw, he did not look like much at first sight, but had power that would scare more than a few brave people.

And he proved it as he withstood the attacks of four fighters - including Jeremy - who weren't that ordinary themselves.

Jeremy gathered his chi, through his arm and brought it towards his enemy. He released it with a cry of 'FLARE TALON' and watched as a line of yellow light streamed from the member, disengaging itself from the core of his energy, and lanced out aggressively. Kale didn't even look at it coming, only grinning a little wider. The attack impacted the purplish energy shield the man had erected around himself.

"Not bad, Storm." he mused "You've much improved since the last time I saw you." he put his arm towards him, and the SCD officer felt himself being pushed by an unseen force. He used his chi to negate a part of it, but still felt the jolt, which pushed him down on the ground. The grinning man chuckled. "Much better, but its still not enough."

"CANNON DRILL!"

"RAIDA!"

"ELECTRIC STORM!"

Cammy impacted upon the shield the Lord of Limerick had woven at the same time that a ball of chi and a strong charge of electricity did the same. The shield held...barely, and everyone could clearly see the strain and pain that flashed through the ordinary-looking man. Jeremy felt his power waver a bit, for just an instant. He scrambled to his feet. But before he or any of the of the others could renew their attacks, He'd straightened, brushed dust specks of his clothes, and, his eyes glowing that characteristic shade of purple, pushed them back with a strong wave of his arm.

"Can't anyone even talk around here?" he asked, his tone blatant mock-exasperation. "I was just giving a compliment, and this is how you respond? Such ingrates."

"Is it a family thing to talk all the way through battles? Or is it just some quirk of yours?" sneered Cammy, her eye cold blue stones, her position aggressive. The man scratched his chin thoughtfully, as if pondering the question most seriously.

"Well, I've always talked a lot." he reflected. "A little much, according to Kale."

"Then if you're so bound by discussions," Ibuki snapped "surely you know that the Circle is falling as of now, and that you yourself cannot fight FOUR people of our caliber!"

There the smile changed, and the chill Jeremy felt increased tenfold. There was something in that smile which wasn't sane at all, but that wasn't what worried him - he'd seen Thomas's eyes, and those had been worse. No, it was the sudden cruel GLEE that seemed to insert itself in that smile, in those coldly amused eyes which stared at the young shinobi. Something BAD was about to happen, and by the way the others tensed, they felt it as well.

"Well, I've got a good answer for you, if you wish to hear it." he said amicably, as if they were old friends instead of opponents. He didn't wait for a reply. "First, let me say that I've no care what happens to the Lair or the Circle anymore. I'm already part of something much greater...or wasn't I always a part of it?"

"If that's so, why are you here?" growled Necro, his strange yellow eyes flashing "Why the big melodrama?"

"That answer answers the second part of Ibuki's problem." he grinned wolfishly. "How fun." He fixed Ibuki intensely, his stare hard, dangerous. "Austerlitz." he stated.

For a moment, Jeremy wondered what foolishness the man was spouting, but this train of thought was cut off when he heard Ibuki scream in agony, clutching her head. They stared at her as her eyes flashed purple, and she attacked the nearest of her allies - which happened to be Necro. Her kunai whizzed at him, and only by sheer skill and the fact that he had already been enhanced physically did he succeed in dodging the deadly attack. He never had the time to recover from his surprise, however, before a well-placed kick took him to the side of the face and pitched him to the side. He struggled to his knees, but the ninja didn't let up, kicking him in the face, then taking out another kunai to burst his skull open. She was stopped when an instinctively attacking Cammy tackled her, but she pushed the British off of her with her feet and faced her distraught former allies.

Kale cackled. "Ain't she cute? She's just a robot now, with that little bug switched on inside her head. Proof that even Everick can keep track of everything someone like me does!" he looked at the growling ninja. "Well, have fun! Kill them as violently as your negative feelings permit. I will be on my way."

"No, you don't, you..." Cammy turned to the Lord of limerick, but his energy was already gathering. In a bare moment he was gone. With a semi-conscious Necro and a maddened, unreasoning Ibuki. Yep, this was going to be quite a party.

She leaped at Cammy with savage grace, her movement lacking part of the incredible focus they had, but compensated by the aggressivity she gave now. A series of kicks and punches, jabs and slashes were exchanged, and it became clear that Cammy was losing, not by a lack of skills, but by an evident wish not to hurt her friend. Unfortunately that went for him also. Nonetheless, he went to help swiftly.

He attacked as strongly as he dared, as fast as he dared and as precisely as he could. His first kick she dodged, sidestepping, facing him, but this allowed Cammy to move in with a series of jabs. Powerful, but pulled, they weren't enough. Dammit, there had to be a way to stop this madness. What was the activation word? Austerlitz? Now why did it seem so familiar. There was something there, something that he couldn't pinpoint yet, something crucial in stopping their maddened, obviously controlled friend.

Ibuki attacked again with a cry of fury, her eyes blazing with an unholy light. She hit Jeremy with a swift drop-kick which he stopped with his forearm, counter-attacking with a swift punch to the abdomen. Cammy jump-kicked at her, forcing her to reel backward, dazed. Her daze did not last long, however, as she shook herself like some sort of dangerous feline and growled menacingly. With a tired sight, Cammy spoke. "You've been holding back too, huh?" she stated more than asked, her fighting stance wary but ready.

He nodded. "So far. But not anymore. We need to attack her full force, without pulling our punches one bit. That's the only way to really get her right now." or perhaps not...

"I know. But we can't kill her."

"No, but she wouldn't want us to tarry from getting that guy because of her." he asserted. "She wouldn't hesitate to kick out asses, and that's what we must do."

And with that, they attacked again. But this time there was no quarter given, no punches pulled. he felt his chi suffuse him as he stroke her with great violence, feeling sick inside but knowing there was no other. She tried to fight back as best as she could, but as each of them - and soon, a third, for Necro was stirring - was roughly her equal, there was nothing she could really do against the dual power.

Napoleon!

He stopped in the middle of his attack, stunned. Napoleon. What did an old, long-dead soldier-emperor have to do with this? Wait. Austerlitz. But then, if he was right, it would mean that the solution is...

"WATCH OUT!" Cammy shouted as Ibuki kicked him, taking him during that moment of distraction. Cursing himself for this unusual lapse of judgement, he brought himself back in the fight, only to find himself thrown by the ninja, slamming to the floor. In a moment she was on him, a kunai out, ready to rip out his throat.

Cammy shouted something, but he didn't care much about it right now. He used his reflexes to catch hold of her hands, forcing the knife back with difficulty. The senseless rage gave her great strength, and they seemed to be in a deadlock.

And that's when he decided to say a word that seemed really stupid to say right now, but was, he felt, something that HAD to be said, HAD to be tried. He met the flaring eyes squarely, unflinching - and spoke.

"Waterloo." he stated firmly.

And then he hoped he was right.

Around the same time...

Kale was feeling kind of good at that moment, as he appeared, as he walked to his private escape ship. Everything was going according to the plan Bison had put in motion, from the attack on the SCD Headquarters to this, the final push that would shatter the Circle into many little pieces - pieces which would be picked up and put to use by Shadowlaw, thereby increasing its powers tremendously.

Ever since he'd been a boy, he had been loyal to his older brother, although he'd hid it from all but Bison and Everick. When Bison had escaped the Circle and gone to create Shadowlaw, he'd stayed behind, and had convinced the Elders - arrogant, blind fools that they were - that he had sundered all of his links with him. They'd bought it, and he'd worked for them, amassing power, finally becoming the Lord of the second-strongest Lair in the entire widespread organization. That was when he - with the help of Everick, had gone to great lengths to simply disrupt it.

Some might see it as the greatest betrayal. However, to someone like Kale, it was only business. Besides, he was one of those people who put family before anyone else.

Everick, in fact, had once questioned him on the subject - which had been strange, considering his own unshakable brand of loyalty.

"How far would you put the importance of family?" he had asked mildly.

"I suppose that I think that those who believe and support their family beyond anything else are the kind of people I really respect." he'd replied. The tall, cold, black-garbed man had nodded, unphased by the answer - not that he had ever seemed much phased by anything.

"So, you would do anything for Bison."

"Yes!"

"Even die?"

"Even die."

But had he really meant that? Did his loyalty go far enough that he'd be willing to die to fulfill it. He thought that it was so, and yet, with what he had prepared, wasn't he an hypocrite? Perhaps he was so, but it didn't mean he wasn't ready to take the risk of his own death, if it went that far. Family, to him, was after all family.

He stopped near his personal craft, suddenly overwhelmed by a strange doubt, a feeling of wrongness about the situation. Perhaps it was an omen, a sign that something would happen to him? He doubted it seriously, imputed it to the tense situation he was living right now. But still, he was a psychic, and he'd seen too many things in his life to really discount what he had felt just now.

Perhaps it was time to do it, even though the risk was high, to himself and to it.

He closed his eyes, calling upon his mental powers -all of them- collecting the mental energies, securing and rerouting the pathways, focusing to duplicate his thoughts, and as he did, to send them into the vessel he had chosen. Not an easy task - in fact what he was trying was unique, untried as far as he was concerned. Uncharted territory, to be sure. But if it worked, it would be worth it.

The strain was such that he had to use every single bit of concentration to push the duplicated thought patterns outside of himself and away to their expected destination. It was an amazing feat, he knew, but it also was one that took everything from him. And it had a dangerous drawback. He was slowed by the effects of the transfer, and his immediate senses were dulled, nearly useless.

Such that he barely heard the sound of a gun being cocked.

He reacted quickly nonetheless, letting go of the link and shifting away to the side. Very fast, but not quite enough, as the bullet grazed his shoulder, blood seeping through the wound, staining the grey fabric. He winced, but nearly blacked-out as the feedback from his forced interruption of a psychic thought projection hit. It was as if someone had lighted fireworks in his brain. His focus was gone, his vision blurry, everything uncertain. He saw the SCD pointing his gun at him again, with three others arriving.

How dare they!

The other three had machine guns, with which they'd killed many of his underlings, with which they were fully prepared to cut him into.

HOW DARE THESE FUCKING HUMANS THINK THEMSELVES ABLE TO KILL HIM!

He blacked out,only it wasn't unconsciousness. It was the primal force of the spirit taking over, as it sometimes did when a situation was life-threatening and the mind was unable to focus. He heard noises, screams, dark shapes moving at the edge of his vision. And more than anything, he felt this burning rage within himself, this dangerous rage which he had trouble keeping bottled up, behind that trademark smile of his. Never had he truly let loose of it, but without his reason, it knew no bounds.

When his eyesight and reason DID return, he looked upon walls bent by psychic force, splattered with blood. Gore and body parts were all around him, sprayed about, and both his arms were drenched in the crimson liquid. Near him, near his boot, lay the head of one of the four SCD, looking at him in unseeing horror and pain. He picked the bloody object up, held it up and stared at it for a moment.

And then his grin returned.

"Alas, poor Yorick!" he mocked theatrically. "I knew him well, Horatio. And I hope he'll be so kind as to pay me my dry-cleaning!" He laughed at his own little joke. Even he had to admit it was morbid, but it seemed so right to say somehow! He turned back to his plane, his head still pounding from the feedback and also from the drain his burst of fury had given him. He'd need some rest after this, that was plain. He was stopped, however, as a voice called out, angry, disgusted and extremely cold.

"You really are a sick puppy." a strange, male voice called. Still grinning, although inwardly he cursed the recent turn of events, he turned around to face people he was now very familiar with.

"Ah, if it isn't the freak. And the little couple!" he called happily, as if it was great joy to see them. He clapped his bloody hands at the three, and then looked around in mock consternation. "But where's the little shinobi girl? Surely nothing BAD happened to her?"

He laughed as their expressions became angrier, but not grieved. So they'd stopped her without killing her. Found the counter-code, probably, it wasn't like it was hard to find. Poor, arrogant little bitch.

When Everick had asked - really ASKED - that she'd be spared, he had reluctantly allowed it out of the many years of respect and friendship the two shared. However, he hadn't wanted her coming at his heels, and without telling the Shadow Walker, had had a high-tech chip implanted in her brain which allowed him to turn her completely against friends, family and allies. He'd originally had wanted to use it against Geki himself, taking the old fool by surprise, but the current situation had warranted the usage of this thing here.

He'd felt kind of sorry to hide this from Everick, but the man wasn't completely objective when it came to her, and he hadn't wished to have an argument over his decision. Not even with a man he respected.

"So, you managed to save her." he stated softly "Good for you! Is her little mind as fried as I think it should be? Or is there a chance she'll one day come out of this catatonia."

The brown-haired man named Jeremy glared, and the ex-doll seemed all but ready to rip his head off at these words. "YOU'RE the one who's about to get his mind fried, you damn bloody monster!" she called, taking a fighting stance.

"And in the light of what happened earlier, do you think YOU can pull it off." he asked, amused. Jeremy answered for her.

"Don't assume we've shown you all that we're capable of." he grunted "What we showed you thus far is only the tip of the iceberg." And the two males took fighting stances of their own.

He looked at them, feeling strong power within each - none equaled his, but in the state he was, they might well be able to...he stopped thinking about that, refused to be discouraged by the possibility of death.

After all, he WAS ready to die, he had said so.

He took a loose fighting stance, knowing this fight would be a dozy, no matter the outcome. And feeling mighty excited about it. He smiled widely at his three opponents.

"Come at me." he urged softly. And his eyes blazed purple.

He was getting back into shape, he just FELT it. His jumps were easy now, higher than they usually had been, his punches were swifter, more precise, his kicks had a better thrust than before. He could run faster and longer than before, and it didn't seem like he was at his limit yet. He was no only a renewed man, but an IMPROVED man. He could barely think he had once been a cripple.

The man widely known as Vega was having a field day, that was certain, as he walked down the lane leading to his mansion.

He had grounds to have that field day. A month ago, Bison had decided to give him a chance to redeem himself - no doubt that had been aided by Everick subtly suggesting it - by taking on a very dangerous assassination project. He'd taken it, glad to have his chance, and trusting in his new skills. He had gone in confidently but cautiously, no longer trusting brashness and arrogance as he used. And it had gone on without a scratch, impressing Bison sufficiently to take him back as one of his personal Warriors.

More than that, he'd gone into the streets and had taken on the most powerful he could find. In Spain, in France, in Portugal, later in America and Japan, his name had been heard. Although people on the streets had been thinking that the great Vega had become a nobody, they no longer thought it, and his name was becoming as feared as it had been before the whole fiasco.

The only thing which remained to take care of, he mused, was his revenge upon the people who had caused his descent, Chunli and Giorgio Castillo. He had decided that, as much as he hated Castillo for what he had done, the effects were now cancelled and he could put him off a bit, until the man became a nuisance again. Chunli...that Interpol puta had disfigured him, and faint traces of it remained even now. What she had done was completely UNACCEPTABLE to him.

But how to get revenge? That was another story.

He already had a few ideas on it, but nothing very conclusive beside the fact he wished her to suffer just as much as he had, in those months. He wanted her broken and humiliated, and he knew that, to achieve this, he had need of an excellent plan. With the upcoming responsibilities he was about to have at Shadowlaw, it might take him months...even a year or two. So be it. He knew he had to be patient, and he would. But when he would be ready, let her beware, for he would not be merciful.

"Oh, pretty vindictive aren't we?" said a voice that seemed young. Vega stopped in stupefaction as he saw someone standing perhaps twenty meters before him, down the lane. Stupefaction which was rapidly replaced by anger at this intrusion of his personal space.

The man in front of him was dressed in a white coat and black pants, wearing a white cap and a pair of sunglasses. A slight smile was on his lips and his entire pose seemed to be a challenge. From what he could see of his face, Vega gave him twenty-five at most.

"Who are you and what are you doing on my property!" he commanded, his voice a growl.

The man seemed slightly flummoxed. He looked around, at the pine trees, at the grass and the grove farther on, and scratched the back of his head in bemusement.

"Ahhh...well...I thought this was some kind of fancy park, so..." he laughed awkwardly.

Vega, however, was in no laughing mood. From one of his deep pocket he started to draw out his claws, which he always carried around in case of a fight or a last-minute mission for Bison. He grimaced at the youth. "Get out, now."

"But sir, you know, then, I'd just like some info, maybe you could tell me where to find a certain guy..." the man babbled a bit, distraught, looking like a clown.

'What a foolish little kid!' he growled inwardly. "Get out of my property, now! I warn you..." he said hotly.

"But sir, its very important that I talk to this guy!" wailed the youth. Vega had had enough. In an instant he was on the young fool, grabbing him by the coat and hauling him face to face, intent on giving him a lesson in manners.

"Now, listen, nino!" he spat "I am in no mood for your antics, so will give you one final piece of friendly advice: SHUT UP AND GET OUT!"

The young man's face seemed suddenly displeased. "How rude." he muttered, and swiftly pushed Vega off of him. Vega was thrust ten feet away, a bit stunned that this youth had reacted so well to an attack. "You really have no manners, sir."

"Stupid nino, do you know who I am?!?" he shouted angrily, snapping hi claw on his right arm, then showed it. "I am Vega, the Spanish Assassin."

He did not know exactly what kid of reaction he was expecting - terror, denial, anger, something like that wouldn't have surprised him much. However, that wasn't what he got. The kid only looked at him posedly, without fear.

"Oh, my." he said flatly "Vega. I'm doomed."

At this, at this flat uncaring of who he was, the lack of fear and respect, was too much for Vega. Extending his claw, he charged with blinding speed.

His claw attacks flew in like the wind, thrusting and jabbing at a speed that made them seem like so much a blur. Kicks, followed, precise, deadly. He didn't care if the guy was reduced to shis-kobab; He was on his property, and cleaning out the mess would be easy since no one would come to look. On the morrow, nothing would seem amiss in the place.

However, none of his attacks hit.

To his dismay and utter astonishment, the youth ducked, sidestepped and other wise dodge every single hit with a grace which was...Vega had no word to describe it, for he'd never seen the like before. He gave a strong swipe with his claw, only to have the lad jump over it , high in the air, to land on the top point of a pine. He growled, focused his inner strength, his power, into his claws. A reddish hue soon formed around his forearm. With a shout, he swung it in front of him, toward the tree.

"RED SLASH!"

The red chi attack neatly cut the pine into three parts, and the youth jumped down to land as easily as any gymnast. His slight smile was back on his face, and he stood casually, his hands in his pockets.

"Not too bad a workout." he said, his voice suddenly seeming not that young. "However, about I take a hit or two?"

Vega never knew what hit him. On moment he had the guy a good forty feet from him, the next he retched from the unbelievably powerful shot to his abdomen, crumpled in two, breath cut off. He barely had the time to realize it before the guy's other foot sent him a good distance away, crashing into the ground. He lay there, and suddenly the youth was there, kneeling next to him.

"Sorry to do that all that." said the lad, now in a truly undefinable voice. "But I had to know if you had enough spirit in you and you do...barely."

Vega growled, swung his claw, only to have his right arm caught in a grip of steel. He couldn't help but gasp at the intensity of the pain. The other man smiled.

"Let's not do that again, shall we?" he asked mildly.

"But, Dios, who are you anyway?!?" Vega panted.

"Oh yes."

Off came the cap to reveal white hair and out came the sunglasses to reveal eyes which seemed to glow with power, a different power from Bison, but somehow more powerful. The eyes appeared ageless, with a trace of mirth deep in them. Vega suddenly felt a cold dread run up his spine.

"It was impolite of me, I apologize." he said mildly "My name is Belsar, young Vega." he fixed the Spanish with a level stare. "And you and I have something to talk about."

And Vega decided he wasn't having such a field day after all.

Around that time...

Necro had been in many fights, both with ruffians and honest fighters. He'd seen good and bad techniques, fighting spirit and the drive to win. He had seen a lot, felt a lot, won...and lost. And in all these times, except for the memories he had of Gill and his brother, Urien, never had he seen such a difficult opponent as the Lord of Limerick.

Kale wasn't using his psychic shield anymore, but that wasn't a necessity for him - the gore which had once been men was proof of this. The style he had did indicate at a certain degree of martial arts, although not nearly the level his two SCD friends possessed.

Friends. How he had never thought he'd ever use that word again. But it was the way he felt about these two people, who had accepted him, no matter how freakish he looked.

Kale was locked in battle with both Cammy and Jeremy, exchanging complex combos of fist and leg work which would have dazzled many people. The grace and precision of the movements was definitely Jeremy's, while Cammy was the fastest. Indeed, it seemed clear that only the fact that Kale had a far greater amount of energies - or chi as many thought to call them - seemed to enable him to hold his own. Oh, how he wished he could join the fight, but the tightness of the attacks, the violent hand-to-hand would make him more of a liability than anything else.

Cammy gave a kick, ducked under a swing, twisted upward and gave Kale a chi-enhanced upward kick which was her specialty with a cry of 'CANON SPIKE!' The psychic was lifted up in the air by the very force of it, to come down to Jeremy swinging his own-chi attack in the air..

"SKY BREAKER!!"

The second chi attack made the psychic rebound, to fall to his knees, near Necro himself, who saw his chance. Springing forward, spinning his arm around and using his energy to help the move, he thrust forward, intent on catching the man by surprise. The Spinning Rush Punch, he called it. However, Kale saw him at the last second, and teleported away, behind Jeremy, who felt him, turned around in a quick back-kick, which was blocked. Before the brown-haired man could do anything else, he was pushed away by Kale's psychic powers. The Circle Lord looked at them in amusement, completely at ease.

"You fight well." He smirked "You obviously are skilled in your trade. But no matter how skilled, your power cannot conquer me."

No, he WASN'T completely at ease. There were slight twitches here and there, like a man holding out against fatigue and pain. The man was actually FEELING the shots. Necro wondered if the others had seen the small clues, was almost certain of it, for they were extremely perceptive people.

However, they weren't much better, either. They had gone through a whole series of small battles, and an exhaustive one against Kale himself just a while back, and the strain was starting to tell. He could see the lines of fatigue imprinted on the visage of his friends, most probably mimicking similar lines on his own. He knew they simply couldn't take this kind of fight forever.

Cammy stepped forward, determined, facing her enemy. She was barely breathing hard, but still she WAS - which meant her own strength was waning. "We're not letting you out. We either kill you or capture you, and we'll do that no matter what?"

"Even at the cost of your lives?"

She scowled darkly. "You can bloody bet your worthless ass on it." she hissed. His face took a look of mock-mortification.

"Such language, my dear, especially from someone who used to be nothing more than a mindless THING for my brother to have FUN with!"

Her expression actually changed, became livened with mirth, at that comment. She actually gave Kale a mocking smile. From his expression, it wasn't exactly what he had thought would be the response to his cruel jibe. She actually chuckled when she saw the look.

"Please." she sneered. "I've no more problems with my past, and if you think a sentence like that is going to break me...YOU'RE MISTAKEN!" and without warning she charged at him like a green bolt of lightning.

She lay into him with all that she had left, with every ounce of furor and vigor she possesses, fighting as if possessed by a demon. Her speed seemed to have increased twofold at least, as had her strength and her precision. It was a n awesome display of skills which dazzled him, and hard-pressed the Lord of Limerick. More than once he faltered or winced as a shot went through his defenses. But there was no way she could sustain this for long. Necro saw that Jeremy was tense, his eyes closed, and that his energy levels were rising rapidly, merging into one point. Cammy was thus doing a delaying action, but how had she known?

It didn't matter. He had to help, even though he was the weakest of the three.

He leaped forward, using the way his legs could stretch to give himself a greater speed and momentum, and managed to grasp the high-level psychic by the shoulders. He didn't waste time congratulating himself, focusing on his nervous system, coagulating bits of electricity into one savage blow.

"ELECTRIC STORM"

He was shoved off the man, drained, but not before he had gone stiff from the nervous shock that had been dealt to his system. He turned toward him, his hand crackling with purplish energy, his eyes blazing more than glowing. Necro braced himself to receive one hell of a big shot.

But it never came.

At that very moment, the energy which Jeremy had gathered peaked, and the brown-haired SCD, straining, his face tense, sweating profusely, joined his hands in front of him. A white sparks gatheres, became a brilliant small sun, until the man screamed.

"FLARE NOVA!!!"

A huge ball of white light, of pure energy, hurled forward toward the man who had killed and hurt so many. Normally Kale would have teleported out of the way, but many things stopped him. First, he was surprised, not having been able to pay attention to the SCD. Second, he was drained from his fight, and third - and that gave Necro a queer feeling of warmth - his system still hadn't been able to cope with the electric shock. Thus, he received the ball of energy full on - and screamed as it hit. It was incredible, and it clearly hurt him immensely.

But he survived, shaky, but still standing, and none of them could do anything, too drained themselves, as he hubbled up the ramp of his escape ship, uncertain and weak, breathing hard. He turned back from time to time to shoot them looks of hatred, but nothing more. In fact, it was only as the door closed that he spoke to them, blood flowing from his mouth.

"You are...formidable...but the...next time we meet...I will be...prepared." And the door closed. A few moments later, the motors went to life, and the shielded themselves from the heat. It blasted through a mechanical opening and quickly gained altitude. Tired, the three looked at it go.

"We...failed." Jeremy panted.

"No, not quite." said a small, weak voice. They turned to see a dazed Ibuki ambling their way. She looked the worst for wear, but herself again. She had a pad with a button in her hand. "You forgot...that I did...something before...the battle."

Cammy raised a tired brow. "What?"

"This." And she pressed the button. For a moment nothing happened. But then the private escape craft Kale had been on exploded, becoming an expanding ball of fire, before being nothing else but ashes. They looked at it in shock, then looked back at the shinobi, who nodded solemnly.

"Live in dishonor, die in dishonor." she stated softly, before falling to her knees.

Jeremy looked at her, then grinned. "I like your style, girl."

"As do I." said Cammy.

"Ditto." panted Necro.

And then they started to laugh. Freely, all four of them, just happy to be there, just happy to have won a hard battle.

Just happy to be alive and enjoy it all.

The day after...

Bison was reading a letter. It wasn't something he had the time or the desire to indulge himself in usually, but sometimes he made exceptions. Not that he had the time right this moment - his plans were fructifying and needed his complete attention. Yet he read it, his face impassive, yet revealing an inkling of emotion. This letter wasn't truly business, of course. In fact, it was more like a will.

Kale's letter of farewell and encouragement, all in one package.

This is what Bison read:

Brother,

Please accept my apology if you have to open this letter. I gave it to my trusted friend and advisor, Everick, with orders not to open it and to give it to you in the event of my death. Hmm. My death. I wonder what it shall be like - long or sudden? Will I see it coming or will I die without knowing I did? Strange questions, which I must tell you I have little wish to see answered yet! But things being what they are, it was definitely possible, and if you are reading this, it happened.

Wow, I can't believe I'm writing this. Anyway...

Where to begin? I'm not good at sappiness, so I'll leave that aside for a while. Down to business. In this letter is a disk containing all the codes with which one of my level may access the Circle mainframe. Without the Elders - if your plan worked, and I'm pretty sure it did, then they are all dead - and with these codes, it should be an easy thing to bring the shattered remains of the Circle under the control of your Shadowlaw. It should really crumble fast after the Elders die - God, I'd like to see you do that myself, but I suppose it can't be helped. Sigh. I'll make do with what I have.

As for Everick, since I'm dead, I'm recommending him to you. He's powerful but without the ambition of a position such as yours, serious and extremely reliable. I'm not very big on those kinds of thing, but I can tell you that I trust him, have since we were children. Friendship isn't something that ever came easily to people like us, and yet the guy managed to become a friend. So I'm putting this recommendation for him. Heck, its really the least I could do for him, after all he did for ME!

You won't be disappointed by him, that I can assure you.

Now, another subject: Dessara. I took that girl from those fools who were her parents - or were they? The mother certainly, but the FATHER? - named her and gave her to you by the order of that Ancient known as Belsar. I'll say without shame that I missed the little girl, and that I'm actually saddened by the fact that I won't see them again. Please take good care of her brother, for I consider her the legacy I leave to others.

Wasn't that sappy or what? I'm getting old.

Okay getting late here, and I'm going to have hectic days ahead of me, so I'll try to finish this. Brother, I want to thank you. Although you never made it public, the support you gave me as I grew up, I never forgot. You where there when others thought me a weakling, and made me strong and powerful. For that, more than anything, I owe you. I will miss our talks, bro, more than you can imagine. That and many things we shared.

As for the more encouraging part, I can only say hope...and wait. If all goes well one day you will see me again - well not exactly, but me nonetheless. I know its not very explicative, but what methods I used, I doubt even you would fully condone them. And I'll say this, I'd agree with you. Oh well, I suppose time will tell. So be patient. You will know, I assure you, when I and if I return.

I must be off. Morning comes, and one can't see the Lord of Limerick being all sappy now, can it?

Farewell and hope, my brother,

Kale

Bison looked up from the letter, letting the feeling of loss and grief pass through him, not letting it show, even in private. Grief was for the weak, not for one such as he. Still, for a few moments, his powerful hands trembled, his strange eyes turned saddened, and his mien became grief stricken. For one moment, he looked like a man who had truly lost a brother.

But the moment passed, the face and hands still, and his iron control returned. He folded the letter neatly, pocketed it with care, then pushed a button. Immediately there was an answer.

"My Lord Bison." said a respectful voice."What is your command?"

"Bring the child to me at once." he stated gravely, his tone like ice. "I wish to speak with her."

"At once My Lord."

He waited, thinking back on his brother's letter. How could Kale come back? His brother was a very creative and intelligent man - if twisted, even by his own standards - and it wasn't impossible that he had found a way to achieve this. Bypass death. At least in some way. Patience, he asked? Very well, he had the time to spare. And he was intensely curious anyway.

The door hissed open, and a man stepped forward, the young child holding his hand. He let go, bowed low to Bison, and stepped out just as quickly, leaving the Master of Shadowlaw and his ward alone in the same room for the first time in months. He studied her for a second.

He felt much intelligence from the small, blonde child, and saw to his great pleasure neither fear of him, or sorrow at the situation, nothing of the sort. Just an admiring curiosity. A strong one. Befitting her true station, for he had learned who her real parents were. Not surprising, given the circumstances. Not surprising at all, in fact. He did not smile at the child, merely looked at her. After a moment he spoke.

"Dessara, you are young, but you have great potential." he stated. "I wish to tell you that I will follow the wishes of two men - your biological father, and the one who thought himself as your father - in training you to become a Shadowlaw Warrior. When I will be finished with you, your will be the mightiest next to me, and become my Heir." he paused "What say you."

He didn't really expect much of an answer from a one and a half year old child. He was thus very surprised when her very young face turned solemn, and she bowed slightly.

"It would be an honor to serve you, Lord Bison."

He smiled.

"Child, you have just made a very encouraging step." he stated.

Yes. Patience. For many things it was needed.

But he had the time.

He had the time.