Foreword.
    In the year 2022, the line between man and machine was effectively erased 
with the creation of a type of android which, in terms of appearance and 
behavior, had the potential to be indistinguishable from an actual human. 
Although this event was largely due to the technological genius of one man, it 
did not happen overnight, but was the result of a long process involving many 
steps. This process spanned years and involved many different people, and the 
end result was not achieved without sacrifice. 


Prologue: 
    There was a jolt, and then the man opened his eyes. 
    Everything looked different. He could not recall how things had looked to 
him when he'd last closed them, but he knew that something was different now. 
His entire body felt different. But how had it felt before? He couldn't say, 
but nevertheless he knew that something had changed. 
    It almost felt as if he'd been born a second time. 
    He blinked, and an image flashed in his mind. It startled him. A memory, 
perhaps? Intrigued, he closed his eyes and waited. 
    And without delay, a series of images flashed before him. A crowd of men 
standing in the rain, wearing helmets and light body armor. An ambulance racing 
through the streets at high speed, but never very far ahead of him. A brightly-
lit hallway. A petite figure, covered head to foot in a streamlined suit of 
cherry-red armor, hanging in mid-air at the end of his arm and writhing in 
agony. 
    He opened his eyes, interrupting the memory -- and he was sure now that it 
WAS a memory, but he didn't remember his arm being made of metal. He held it up 
to examine it ... and it seemed to him that it was made of flesh and bone. 
    Confused, he closed his eyes again, hoping that further memories would 
provide him with an answer. And more images quickly sprang to mind. Another 
armored figure, but this one was a deep blue color, thrusting some type of 
blade into his chest. Then the same figure was below him, being crushed beneath 
his foot -- which also appeared to be mechanical. There was some additional 
imagery, but it moved too quickly for him to follow, and he felt as if his body 
was being torn apart. And then, darkness. 
    But the darkness was followed by one final image: that of the blue-armored 
figure, and he had the distinct impression that she stood over his broken body. 
She? He wondered why he thought that, but then the figure spoke. 
    "Heh ... Eat that!" 
    He opened his eyes, and sat up. Cradling his head in his hands, he tried in 
vain to understand the feelings which assaulted him. He felt as if these 
memories were not his own, but ... how could that be? Try as he might, he could 
summon forth no others. As he wracked his brain for a familiar image, a hand 
touched his shoulder. 
    He looked up, and saw a man he didn't recognize. Of course I don't 
recognize him, he reasoned. I don't even know my own name. The man smiled at 
him, and he opened his mouth to ask the most obvious of questions. 
    "Who am I?" 
    The answer was not the sort he'd expected. "You are the past and the 
present combined, my friend. And as such, you form a key to the future." 
    "Wh ... what? I don't understand..." 
    "I will explain it to you," the man assured him. "It's perfectly natural 
that you would be confused. I'll explain everything to you ... I'll tell you 
all about yourself, and help you to understand the visions you've just seen. 
And I'll explain the mission that you've been reborn to carry out ... and about 
our mutual enemies, whom we will destroy utterly." 

    Sylia Stingray's attention was suddenly wrenched away from the glow of her 
monitor, and she nearly dropped the cup she was holding. Something had startled 
her, but she'd been so immersed in her studies that at first she wasn't sure 
exactly what it had been. 
    Her eyes scanned the dark room, seeing nothing amiss. She was alone, and 
the only sound was the soft hum of her desktop monitor, barely audible even in 
the still of night. Still, she couldn't shake the inexplicable feeling of dread 
which suddenly gripped her heart. 
    Sylia stood, and walked to the window. She triggered the blinds and they 
slid open obediently, providing her with a clear view of Megalocity Tokyo. The 
city's silhouette was a clashing mixture of heavy shadow highlighted by neon 
lights; at least, that's how it always looked at night. 
    But there WAS something different, and after a moment Sylia realized what 
it was. The moon. She couldn't see the moon. Looking more closely, she saw that 
it had been obscured by clouds -- thick, dark storm clouds, which were 
gathering over the entire city. And no sooner had Sylia noticed this than 
raindrops began to lightly splash her window. 
    Perhaps it was thunder, she thought to herself. She closed the blinds and 
walked back toward the desk. Yes, it had to have been thunder. 
    Then she paused. No, that's not right. It was a sound, but it wasn't so 
clearly defined ... so substantial ... as thunder would be. It was almost more 
of a feeling, an impression, than an actual sound. But it was an impression of 
a sound, almost like an echo. 
    She bowed her head, deep in thought now. What had it been? The only 
possible answer, the only thing she could really compare the sound to, was 
ridiculous. Impossible. Not to mention completely illogical. 
    And yet, she could swear that the sound she'd heard ... no, it couldn't 
have been. The walls were too thick, it just wasn't possible. The building was 
empty, she knew that for a fact. 
    And yet, she couldn't deny what she'd heard. Heard -- or maybe felt. 
    It seemed crazy, but it had almost sounded like... 
    ...Laughter... 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Masterwork Productions presents... 

Bubblegum Crisis: So Dark The Season 


Plot by Aaron Whiteside 
Text by Corey Smith 

Based on Bubblegum Crisis created by Artmic & Youmex 
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Part One 

MegaTokyo, Japan 2034 A.D. 

    A city the size of MegaTokyo never truly sleeps. In fact, there were many 
areas of town that didn't really come to life until the sun went down. This was 
particularly true of the nightclub scene, and taxi services in those areas did 
far better business at night than they did during the day. 
    One such taxi was arriving at its destination just as the rain began to 
fall. The driver pulled up to his usual curbside stopping point, and his 
unusual passenger disembarked. 
    A tall, well-built man who looked to be in his mid-to-early-twenties, he 
wore a long, dirty trenchcoat which had obviously been with him for quite a 
long time. He also wore a pair of dark sunglasses which hid his eyes from view, 
and his long, brown hair hung about his face, draping it in shadow. He dug 
around in his pockets and tossed the cab driver the last of his change, then 
turned to survey his surroundings as the taxi roared away behind him. 
    If there was a place which could legitimately be called 'the dark side of 
MegaTokyo', he'd definitely found it. The streets here obviously hadn't been 
cleaned in a very long time, as there was all manner of trash lying about 
(human included). Synthetic drug dealers, the cybernetically-altered addicts 
who made up their clientele, prostitutes, and other generally disreputable 
sorts lined the sidewalks. The fact that it was now raining steadily didn't 
seem to bother them. Several buildings in the immediate area appeared to be 
abandoned, and had clearly been ransacked long ago. Most of the remaining 
structures had been converted into small-time shops, and bore brightly-lit 
signs which read things like 'Used Boomers - Buy & Sell', 'Sexaroid Orders 
Filled Here - Ask Inside', 'Upgrade Your Outdated Parts Today! Free 
Installation', and 'Artificial Organs & Limbs, Bargain Priced'. 
    The man paused for a moment at this last sign, then went on his way. 
    After walking a few more blocks (and by now growing fairly damp), he passed 
a crowded alleyway. He paused, intrigued by the commotion, and stepped into the 
alley for a better look. A noisy crowd had gathered outside what appeared to be 
a side entrance to a nightclub. The man could see a notice posted near the door 
-- 'Special Re-Opening Show Tonite'. Hanging above the doorway, a neon sign 
flickered sporadically. 
    It read, 'Hot Legs'. 

    The nightclub's out-of-the-way location and suggestive name may have 
initially drawn some people to the establishment called Hot Legs, but there 
could be no doubt as to what kept them coming back -- Priss and the Replicants. 
The underground 'retrothrash' band had been playing the club almost exclusively 
for over three and a half years, and in that time had become quite a draw. The 
nightclub had been remodeled recently (partly thanks to the money the band 
brought in, though the owner would never admit it), and this was the first show 
they'd put on in nearly a month. 
    And if there was something the band excelled at, it was putting on a show. 
The stage floor was packed from wall to wall, multicolored strobes flickered, 
and flash pots flared. And then Priss and her Replicants made their dramatic 
entrance -- and in full costume, no less. 
    It was a private joke that Priss had named the band as a reference to one 
of her favorite movies, and the puffy blonde wig she always wore carried it a 
bit further. But this time she'd gone all the way, having powdered every inch 
of her visible skin (which was quite a bit) white, while layering thick black 
makeup across her eyes. In addition to being an homage of sorts, the body 
makeup also helped to cover some of her more recently-acquired scars. And of 
course she wore the wig, too, which completed the image. She'd also convinced 
the other members of her band to shed their normally androgynous appearance for 
at least one night, in favor of more fitting period attire. 
    The stage had been rebuilt, too. The most noticable change was the addition 
of a dozen large-screen video monitors built into the wall behind the band, 
which fit together to form a single massive screen and flashed hundreds of 
images during the show. Per Priss's request, most of it was newsreel footage -- 
battlefield clips from Europe and Asia, Boomer riots, crime scene footage where 
Boomer involvement was suspected or confirmed, and the GENOM logo would 
inevitably find its way in amidst the carnage -- "A little public-awareness 
program", Priss had called it. There were also occasional images of the well-
known but rarely-seen Boomer destroyers, the Knight Sabers. 
    But now, it was time for the show. The drummer kicked things off with a 
slightly sped-up version of a familiar beat, and Priss weaved back and forth 
with the microphone stand while the guitarists took up their 'flanking 
positions' on either side of her, just in time to begin their parts. And a few 
notes later, it was Priss's turn. 
    "MAD MACHINE!!" Shouted out by nearly every voice in the club, the words 
seemed to echo though the night. "Suna-arashi ga, makiokoru savannah..." A 
little "Ahh, ahh" from the guitarists; they were (supposedly) men, but their 
voices were pitched higher than Priss's. "MAD MACHINE!! Tobasu bi-ike-ou, 
hyooteki oikakete..." 
    And so it went for several minutes, which was certainly long enough for 
everyone to work up a good sweat. The guitarist launched into an ambitious 
solo, and Priss moved back slightly to allow him some room to show off. 
    Why'd I write such a long solo at the end of this song, anyway? she 
wondered abstractly as she brushed the fake blonde hair out of her eyes. Yeah, 
it sounds cool ... but now all I have to do is stand here like an idiot. 
    Sighing, she surveyed the crowd. Despite her temporary boredom, it felt 
great to be playing again. Along with the usual throng of social miscreants and 
drooling perverts, she spotted a few familiar faces. Leon was there ... he was 
ALWAYS there. Priss rolled her eyes, but consoled herself with the knowledge 
that he'd had to pay to get in. 
    As her eyes scanned the crowd, suddenly Priss stopped. She noticed a man 
with long, dark hair and sunglasses amidst a sea of fist-bangs. But he was 
standing completely still, and ... he was staring straight at her. And she 
found herself inexplicably transfixed by his gaze. 
    Then the wandering guitar solo ended, and the entire club erupted. Priss 
lost track of the mystery man in a tidal wave of motion, and when she looked a 
second time he was nowhere to be seen. 
    What the heck was that about? she wondered. Why had that man's presence 
affected her in such a way? He certainly wasn't the strangest thing she'd seen 
lately, and even the staring wasn't so unusual... 
    ...But, she realized, most men who came to the club didn't look her in the 
eye. But then how did she know that he had? She couldn't even SEE his eyes... 
    Priss shook her head to clear it as the crowd calmed down a little. It 
wasn't important. She threw them a smirk, then stepped to the front of the 
stage and raised her arms triumphantly as the crowd went nuts just below her. 
    "I NEVER DIE!!!" She shouted, in English. The band then launched into a 
brand-new song of the same name, as the flash pots exploded around them. 

    Having moved to the other side of the floor, the man continued to watch 
Priss as closely as distance would allow. About ten minutes and two more songs 
passed without incident. Then a guy standing directly in front of him suddenly 
looked at his watch -- which was flashing brightly -- and, with a curse, turned 
and ran into him. 
    "Uh, sorry..." he muttered as he shouldered his way past and toward the 
exit. The man noticed a small badge affixed to his jacket as he moved past, 
identifying him as a member of A.D. Police. 

    "Damn it, Daley, what the hell do you want?!" Leon McNichol barked at his 
partner's image on the vidphone. "You KNOW I'm busy! PRISS is back on stage!!" 
    "Tell that to the Boomers," Daley Wong replied with an apologetic grin. 
"The report just came in from T.H.P. There're four C-Class combat models on the 
freeway out by where Aqua City used to be ... and they're attacking a GENOM 
truck." 
    Leon raised his eyebrows. "They're attacking a GENOM truck?! Now THAT'S 
weird. If anything, they usually go after stuff Genom doesn't like." He rubbed 
his chin thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll meet you out there." 

    Linna Yamazaki looked on with mild interest as Leon stomped out of the 
club. Must be a Boomer incident, she thought to herself. I wonder if Sylia will 
decide to get involved... 
    She hung back along the side wall, trying to stay outside the crowd, which 
Priss was now whipping into a frenzy. Linna shook her head. Priss was doing 
some pretty weird stuff lately. Of course, there was that makeup job, but that 
was just one of several things. The tone of her music -- the new stuff, anyway -
- seemed to be getting a bit more abrasive, and the lyrical content often dealt 
directly with their experiences over the past couple of years, as opposed to 
the usual airy 'J-Pop' stuff. It was as melodic as always, of course; Linna 
couldn't deny that Priss had her gifts. The way she used them made her wonder 
about her mindset sometimes, but she supposed that was none of her business. 
    But more than any of that, Linna had noticed something else -- a very 
distinct feeling of tension in their group, particularly between Priss and 
Sylia, since she'd returned from Germany. And no matter what Sylia said, it was 
NOT her imagination! 
    Linna sighed, lost in thought despite the tremendous volume of noise all 
around her. SOMETHING was going on with those two ... maybe it had something to 
do with that disastrous factory incident a few weeks ago. When Sylia found out 
about it, she was, well, less than happy that the three of them had gone into 
battle without her. The fact that they'd very nearly gotten themselves killed 
in the process didn't help much, either. And the Knight Sabers hadn't gone out 
again since then. Granted they all needed some time to recover from their 
injuries, but Linna couldn't help worrying about it. Maybe Sylia had decided 
she couldn't trust them anymore... 
    Linna shook off the unpleasant line of thought. "Geez, I must be catching 
Nene's paranoia..." she muttered. 

    A violent sneeze came over the A.D. Police tactical net, prompting those 
listening to erupt with laughter. 
    "You catching a cold, Nene?" Daley chuckled into his car radio, as his 
squad raced over a bridge on their way to the Boomer incident. 
    "...Must be allergies," the dispatcher's voice mumbled in response, clearly 
embarrassed. "Okay, now listen up. According to the helo jockeys, you should 
come into visual contact at your next right. T.H.P. is setting up a barricade 
to control area traffic, so secure your position and then wait for some air 
support. Copy that? Over." 
    "Copied and confirmed, over." 
    The convoy, consisting of Daley's squad car and half a dozen APC's, rounded 
the next corner and slowed down. They'd moved onto a stretch of highway near 
the deserted Old Tokyo Bay, where the Genom truck was apparently attacked, but 
the rest of the street was very dark. Peering down the rain-soaked street, 
Daley could make out what he thought looked like the outline of a large 
vehicle, about three hundred feet down the road. Everything was eerily still. 
    "Seal off this street, then get out your gear," he told the APC drivers. 
Then he got back on the radio. "Station One? This is Unit 18 ... we've arrived 
at the site, but no movement is visible from our position. Also, power appears 
to be out along the length of the highway. Over." 
    "Negative, Detective," came Nene's reply. "My grid shows no power shortage 
in that area." 
    Daley's brow furrowed as he peered down the street. "Well, I'm telling you, 
every streetlight for at least the next mile is dark." 
    "But, my board shows--" 
    "It doesn't sound right," another voice cut in. "That's a double-deck 
highway, isn't it? And you're not far from a residential area. Careful, Daley, 
those Boomers could be planning something." 

    Leon cut his connection without waiting for a reply. He gunned the throttle 
of his motorcycle, running a red light and weaving through traffic. 
    First a group of Boomers attack a Genom truck -- which was weird enough -- 
and now this. Something was going on; he could feel it. But he couldn't figure 
out what it was, and that made things even worse. He suddenly wished he was 
carrying some heavier ordinance. 

    Nene Romanova leaned back in her chair, suppressing a yawn as she watched 
her tactical display. The A.D.P. satellite relay transmitted data directly to 
the map before her, showing a group of red blips -- Daley's squad -- spreading 
themselves out in a defensive position at the intersection at which they'd 
stopped. A blue blip represented the position of the Genom truck about thirty 
yards ahead, and if any Boomers appeared, they would show up as green blips. As 
of yet, none were visible. Assuming they were still present in the area. 
    "Electrical shortage..." Nene frowned. Such a thing would certainly show up 
on her board. But if what Daley said was true -- and there was no reason why it 
wouldn't be -- then something must have happened at the site, and if so it was 
something that wasn't visible from her end. 
    "Hey, Naoko," she called over her shoulder. "Come take a look at this." 
    "In a minute, Nene," her friend and fellow A.D.P. dispatcher answered, 
waving a hand in her direction. "I'm busy with Chinatown." 
    Nene sighed. There was always something going on, somewhere. 
    She heard Daley calling for spotlights, and turned her attention back to 
her tac display. His squad was following a standard procedure for securing the 
street; sending out a line of infantry with two of the APC's following just 
behind. As the red blips spread across the highway and began to advance, Nene 
tried to imagine why the Boomers would've sabotaged the streetlights. It almost 
seemed like they were trying to set a trap, which was extremely unusual. Most 
rampaging Boomers just came right out and confronted them directly. Aside from 
that, hitting the lights was also pretty pointless, considering that the APCs' 
headlights brightly illuminated the entire street. The only areas they didn't 
reach were the shoulders... 
    Nene leaned forward, peering closely at her schematic. She tapped her 
headset. "Unit 18, recommend you wait for air support before you attempt to 
secure the area. Over." 
    "The troopers've already gone out, Station One," came Daley's response. 
"Over." 
    Nene swore under her breath. "Exercise extreme caution near the shoulders 
of the highway," she told him. "With the streetlights out, that's your blind 
spot. Over." 
    "Roger that, Station One." 
    Another voice came over the net. "Station One, this is Helo 08 ... 
approaching visual range now. Activating external cameras." 
    Another monitor came to life at Nene's terminal, next to the tac display. 
It showed an approaching aerial view of the bridge, coming in over the water 
from the northwest. Except for the light provided by the APCs' spotlights, it 
was indeed very dark and foreboding, and the rainstorm didn't help any. 
    Although there were occasional moments during Boomer incidents when Nene 
cursed her desk, wishing she could stand beside the A.D.P. troopers as they 
stalked their deadly prey, this was not one of them. 
    She tapped her headset. "Helo 08, this is Station One. Could you please 
turn on your spotlights? Over." 
    There was a brief commotion at the other end, then a sheepish "Sorry, 
Station One", and the lights came on. Nene smirked at the helo pilot's 
negligence. 
    Her smile vanished as the spotlight swept across the bridge, confirming her 
worst fears. Several shadows clung to the side of the upper deck, just below 
the level of the street, and one immediately turned toward the source of the 
light which had uncovered its presence. Red eyes glittered amidst the shadows, 
there was a bright green flash, and then the signal went dead. 
    The helo pilot hadn't even had time to say anything further. 
    "Unit 18, you're being ambushed!!" Nene practically yelled into her 
headset. "Repeat, you're being ambushed! Pull your troops back NOW!!" 
    As she watched in horror, four green blips suddenly appeared on the bridge 
and converged on Daley's squad with frightening speed. Several red blips 
immediately winked out, and more followed very quickly after that. 
    Biting her lip, Nene turned to her overview monitor and began diverting 
nearby units to reinforce Daley's squad. Of course, she had long ago trained 
herself to disregard the fact that what the satellite relay read as red blips 
were actually human lives. Ignoring it had even become relatively easy after 
looking at this terminal for over three years. Most of them she'd never met 
anyway, except perhaps for a chance encounter in a hallway or elevator. Sure, 
it had bothered her in the beginning, but it was part of the job. Everyone got 
used to it eventually. Hesitation was not an option. Now, the only time she 
ever thought about it was late at night, when there was no one else around... 
    "Units 09 and 20, reroute to assist Unit 18. Air support will be required." 
Nene turned away from her terminal for a moment. "Naoko, when Furukawa's unit 
is done with Chinatown, send them over here!" 
    Turning back to her station, Nene quickly tuned her radio to an unused 
frequency and whispered a brief message. Then she switched it back, and glanced 
over her shoulder to make sure no one else was watching. 
    Natsuko Ikari, a dark-haired girl seated behind her, turned back to her own 
terminal and pretended not to have noticed. 

    Some time later, the wild show at Hot Legs had finally come to a close, and 
the door to Priss's dressing room swung shut to puncuate this. 
    Priss fell into a chair with a deep sigh. As good as it felt to perform, it 
always felt better to unwind afterwards. Her eyes wandered across her modest 
dressing room, and settled on an unfamiliar bottle resting on the dresser in 
front of the mirror. 
    "Complimentary champagne?" She raised her eyebrows. "What the hell." There 
was no way it could've come from the management... 
    Priss had just enough time to uncork the bottle before there was a knock at 
the door. She frowned. "Whaddya want?!" she barked, using her roughest 'scare 
off the fanboys' voice as she tossed her wig in the corner. 
    "C'mon, Priss, open up! It's me!" came the high-pitched response. Too high-
pitched to belong to any of the said fanboys. 
    Priss chuckled. "Sorry, Linna," she muttered as she unlocked the door. 
    Linna entered promptly. "Geez, I told you I was gonna come backstage after 
the show," she complained as she pulled up a chair near the door. 
    "Ahh, gimme a break," Priss snorted, pouring herself a cup. "As far as I 
know, there could be anybody on the other side of that door. I mean, there was 
this one time when--" 
    Linna cleared her throat, looking meaningfully at the bottle in Priss's 
hand. 
    "Oh, right." Priss sighed and poured a cup for Linna, receiving a smile in 
return. "Anyway, enough of that. What'd you think of the show? Am I back, or 
what?" Priss grinned. 
    "Well, it was pretty different from what you've done before," Linna began, 
taking a positive angle. "The video equipment you've got set up is really 
impressive." Then she frowned. "But, what if somebody realizes that the footage 
of us has never been broadcast?" 
    Priss snorted. "Ah, most of those morons weren't even paying attention to 
the screens. Even if they were, I don't think anybody'd put it together." 
    Linna remained unconvinced. "I think Sylia'd be upset if she knew about it. 
It comes close to being a violation of Article One." 
    Priss scowled. "I'm sick of those stupid rules," she muttered. 
    Linna nearly choked on her drink. "HEY! What's THAT supposed to mean?! You 
know as well as anyone that if we didn't follow them so strictly, somebody at 
Genom could find out our identities! We could all be killed!" 
    "Those rules almost GOT you killed!!" Priss snapped, jumping to her feet. 
Seeing Linna's shocked expression, she looked away. "I mean, I know how 
important it is to keep our identities secret ... I just wish, maybe, there was 
a different way. I wish Sylia would ease up a little ... what the hell was I 
supposed to do, anyway?" The last question was directed more at herself than at 
Linna. "She never tells us anything, so what can we do if something happens and 
she isn't there?" She sighed, then looked back at Linna, who was plainly 
staring at her by now. 
    "Priss ... you're not still thinking about that, are you?" Linna's 
expression became more serious. "I know Sylia was mad, but you can't really 
blame her ... and we all screwed up, not just you. But anyway, I'm sure Sylia's 
probably forgotten about it by now. I mean, it HAS been a while." 
    Priss turned away for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she turned 
back and returned to the original subject. "Anyway, if anyone gets suspicious 
about the footage, I'll go out on stage and say I'm a Knight Saber. That way, 
people'll just pass it off as a publicity stunt. I bet even Sylia wouldn't 
think of doing it that way, huh?" She grinned. 
    Linna let out an exasperated sigh. "I give up." She sipped her drink, then 
regarded it thoughtfully. "Hey, where'd this come from, anyway?" 
    Priss glanced around the room. "Beats me. There's no note." 
    Linna grinned mischieviously. "Ha, I bet it's from Leon!" 
    "Shit!" Priss swore. "Why can't that idiot take a hint?? I swear, his brain 
must be smaller than that badge on his chest." 
    Linna giggled, then sighed again. "You know, it's too bad he's not more 
reliable." She took another sip. "Otherwise, I might take him off your hands." 
    Priss shot Linna a disgusted look, then scoffed. "Hey, you're welcome to 
him! Help yourself!" 
    Linna shook her head furiously, causing her hair to swing back and forth. 
"No way!! I said, IF he were more reliable! There's no way I'd go out with him, 
the way he is now." 
    Priss snorted. "He doesn't make enough money for you, either." 
    "What does THAT mean?!" Linna demanded, glaring at her. "I tell you, that 
has NOTHING to do with it!" 
    "Yeah, sure." Priss turned back toward the mirror, having reached the point 
in the conversation where argument accomplished nothing. She blinked, startled 
by the strange reflection which stared back at her. 
    "By the way, what's with that makeup?" Linna asked from behind her glass. 
    "Hmph." Priss chuckled. "I dunno, it just seemed like a nice touch for my 
big return to the stage. Kinda getting back to the beginning of everything, you 
know? It's hard to describe ... it's sort of to say that, yeah, I've changed a 
lot, but I still know where I'm coming from." She smiled, regarding the mirror. 
"Do you get what I'm saying?" 
    "Nope." Linna leaned back, adopting a posture of indifference. 
    "Figures." Priss frowned. 
    Any further argument was cut short by a loud beep, emitted by Linna's 
bracelet. Both women nearly jumped in surprise. 

    Moments later, Priss and Linna emerged from the club's lower-level entrance 
to find a large vehicle idling at the curb. The logo of the Silky Doll lingerie 
shop was painted broadly on the side, rivulets of water washing over it. Linna 
opened her umbrella as they approached the truck, muttering non-specific curses 
about the rain. 
    "What's going on, Sylia?" Priss asked as the Knight Sabers' leader rolled 
down the window on the driver's side. 
    "There seems to be a Boomer incident on the highway out by where Aqua City 
used to be," Sylia replied. "The A.D. Police are faring poorly." She frowned. 
"There's something strange this time, though ... apparently, the Boomers 
originally attacked a Genom truck, then hid themselves and ambushed the A.D. 
Police when they arrived." 
    "They attacked a GENOM truck?!" Linna repeated in disbelief. "Is that 
possible?" 
    "Yes," Sylia answered, "Though it's extremely unlikely. I think something 
else is going on here." 
    "Well, what's that?" Priss asked, sounding almost a little indignant. 
    Sylia looked directly at her. "I don't know yet," she replied. "But I think 
we should find out. Also, the incident is near a residential area, so there are 
innocent lives in danger." She looked from Priss to Linna, and back again. 
    "The suits are in the back." 

    Standing in the building's shadow, the man watched the curbside exchange. 
Then the two women got into the truck, and it drove off. 
    He looked around, and spotted several motorcycles parked further down the 
alley. With a slight sigh, he turned and walked toward them. 

    A short while later Leon came to a stop, having finally arrived at his 
destination. As always, any reaction he might have had to the destruction 
around him was hidden behind his cool demeanor as he surveyed the scene. 
    He'd stopped just a few feet behind Daley's squad car, which was itself 
parked to the side of the highway, just behind the A.D.P. defensive line. Mini-
helos buzzed overhead, their spotlights illuminating a scene of utter carnage 
less than fifty feet away. Of the twenty troopers who'd gone out over the 
bridge, Leon doubted even a single man would be walking back under his own 
power. The smoking ruin of one of the APC's lay on its side just ahead of them, 
and three more lay in pieces on the street beyond. The remaining two idled in 
front of Daley's squad car, ready to block the road or charge in at any notice. 
Meanwhile, the battle continued, and would go on until the Boomers were 
destroyed or A.D. Police ran completely out of manpower. And in the 
department's entire history, that had never happened. Reinforcements, in the 
form of Furukawa's unit, would arrive eventually. Meanwhile, the chatter of the 
mini-helos' railguns in the background was almost continuous. 
    "Hey, Daley!" Leon called casually, putting away his sunglasses as he 
dismounted from his motorcycle. "You still alive?" 
    "Leon!" His partner's familiar head poked out of the car's window. "I 
thought you'd never get here!" His tone of indignation abruptly turned to one 
of mild embarassment. "I don't suppose you've got a Boomer rifle on you? Seems 
like mine got ... misplaced." 
    Leon actually laughed at the statement, despite himself. "Oh, yeah, I've 
got a spare in my shoe," he joked. "But I do have one of these," he added, 
drawing his pistol and taking out one of his missile attachments. 
    "I knew you'd be prepared. You're always ready for anything." Daley 
grinned, but then his expression grew more serious. "You know, they're only 55-
C's," he explained, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the Boomers. 
"They're a little modified, but if there were only one or two we'd have 
finished this up in no time. But there're four of them, and they're not acting 
like most Boomers usually do. It seems like they're actually using a 
coordinated strategy, and building on it as time goes by." He coughed. "Why 
don't you get in here, where it's dry?" 
    Leon scowled, oblivious to the rain. "Y'know, I think tomorrow morning I'll 
drag the Chief's spineless ass down here, chair and all, and make sure he gets 
a good look around before the cleanup crews are finished. Maybe then he'll grow 
the balls to get us some hardware authorization." He leaned close to his bike's 
radio speaker. "Did you get that, Nene?" 
    "I'd tell him myself if he were here!" was the spirited reply. "Uh, wait, 
you guys might wanna--" 
    The rest of her sentence was drowned out by a shriek of twisting metal from 
the APC just in front of them. As Leon and Daley watched, the vehicle was 
ripped completely in half, torn apart by a massive pair of biomechanical limbs. 
As the smoke cleared they could see the outline of a midnight-blue Boomer 
towering over them, the android's crimson eyes glowing brightly. 
    "GET IN!!" Daley shouted, throwing his car into reverse. Instead, Leon 
levelled his gun at the android and squeezed off a shot. The missile attachment 
found its mark, blowing a large hole in the Boomer's chest and staggering it. 
But it wasn't finished yet, and as it came back around it brought its mouth 
laser to bear. 
    Leon had faced certain death so many times that he'd become something of an 
expert on the topic. Your life will flash before your eyes the first two, maybe 
three times, but after that the experience starts to lose its significance. 
He'd gotten to the point now where he just heaved a little inward sigh. It 
wasn't so much a feeling of dread, or even fear, as it was to say to himself 
...So, that's it. I'm done. 
    The Boomer's jaws yawned open wide... 
    ...And then its head exploded. 
    Leon blinked in surprise as the Boomer's body flailed around aimlessly. 
Next there was a flash of silver as something dropped down in front of him, and 
the huge android's body gave one final jerk. Then it fell to the ground, having 
been cleaved neatly in two. The responsible party, who had landed in a crouch 
between the Boomer and Leon, straightened up and looked over her shoulder at 
him. 
    "Well, well," Leon chuckled. "I was starting to think you guys were gone 
for good." They hadn't been seen since the incident with the G.M.C.U. over a 
month ago, but now the Knight Sabers were back. Not a moment too soon, either. 
    And now everything would turn out all right. It always did, after all. 
    "You'd better pull back," the figure stated tersely, her silver armor 
gleaming in the glare from the A.D.P. spotlights. "We'll handle this." 
    Still smiling, Leon sighed in resignation and got into Daley's car. "Better 
do as the lady says," he told his partner. Daley laughed and began backing up. 
As they headed back up the street, they passed two of the other Knight Sabers --
 the blue one and the green one -- walking toward the battle ahead. 
    "So, the Knight Sabers have finally shown up," Daley commented as they 
pulled back up the street. "Looks like the silver one is back, too." 
    "Hmph." Leon grunted in agreement as he dug around in the back seat for a 
pair of binoculars. 
    "Leon? Daley?" The radio squawked. "Are you okay?!" 
    Daley picked up the receiver. "Sorry, Station One. We're fine. The Knight 
Sabers have appeared. Over." 
    There was a brief pause on Nene's end, then she spoke again. "Um, that's 
great! So, what's happening now? Over." 
    Daley frowned. "Hey, what happened to your all-knowing tactical board? 
Over." 
    "It doesn't pick up on the Knight Sabers, remember? I can see the choppers 
backing off, and now the Boomers are just standing there. But, what else is 
happening? Over." 
    Daley opened his mouth to reply, but Leon grabbed the receiver out of his 
hand. "Don't worry, Nene," he said, "I've got my specs here. I'll keep you 
posted." 

    Priss and Linna stepped up to join Sylia, stopping to stand on either side 
of her. The three remaining Boomers, still wreaking havoc just down the street, 
noticed their presence and tensed for combat. Sylia shot Priss and Linna each a 
quick glance, then spoke. 
    "Let's take care of this quickly. Straight attack, down-arrow formation. 
Go!" 
    She and Linna fired their suits' thrusters and launched into the air, 
diving toward the Boomers from either side and immediately engaging them in 
close combat. Priss, meanwhile, charged straight at them on the ground. 
    It's been too long, she thought as she triggered her wrist-blade. I've 
really been needing to cut loose like this... 
    With a battle cry, she lunged at the first Boomer, aiming to slice it in 
two with her initial charge. She braced her right arm, anticipating the impact 
with a grin-- 
    And the thing moved. It actually sidestepped her. Priss was so surprised 
that she was caught off balance and, slipping on the wet pavement, stumbled to 
the ground as she hurtled past her intended target. 
    Shaking her head to clear it, she instantly rolled to the side and jumped 
to her feet. As she rolled, the Boomer's foot crashed through the pavement 
where she'd fallen. 
    Get it together!! she shouted inwardly. I nearly put myself right back in 
that position again--!!! Her mind flashed unbidden back to the hospital, with 
her helmet's warning lights erupting in a crimson frenzy as that Boomer crushed 
her torso with its metallic foot. The traumatic memory only served to disorient 
her further, and before she could get her bearings the Boomer she faced now 
lunged in, pummeling her with a succession of attacks before she could react...

    "Sylia, Priss is in trouble!" Linna called as she danced out of her 
opponent's reach, dodging its repeated swings. But when she turned her head, it 
suddenly stepped away. 
    Looking back, she saw it firing its mouth laser and spun out of the way. As 
she did so, it charged in again with another swing. 
    No problem, she thought as she triggered her ribbons. It wouldn't get past 
her defensive spin. 
    She twisted around, her razor-sharp helmet ribbons slicing apart the 
Boomer's arm. But its momentum carried it forward, and its remaining fist 
crashed into her abdomen, throwing her back against the highway's guard rail. 
    Pain tore through Linna's body like a white-hot lance, and she could do 
nothing but fall to the ground, her arms wrapped around her stomach. It hadn't 
hit her that hard, but it was WHERE it had hit her -- right against her most 
recent injury, where she'd been impaled by an inch-thick drill only a few weeks 
before. As it stood, she felt like she'd popped a few stitches. 
    A shadow fell over her, and Linna knew she had to get up or the Boomer 
would finish her off. But the pain wouldn't allow her to move... 

    Hearing Linna's warning, Sylia deflected another attack from the Boomer she 
was fighting and fired her thrusters, launching herself above the street for a 
better view. Priss was indeed taking a beating, but as Sylia watched Linna also 
went down, and wasn't getting back up. 
    Why were they losing? These Boomers weren't that tough. She'd originally 
planned to leave them to A.D. Police, before circumstances dictated otherwise. 
Hadn't they recovered yet from their last fight? But they should have by now. 
They'd had ample time. So then what could be wrong? SOMETHING definitely was. 
    These thoughts and dozens more flowed through Sylia's mind in the space of 
an instant, which was exactly how long it took her to take aim and fire both 
her hand-blasters. The Boomer fighting Linna was blown in half at the base of 
its spine, but the one attacking Priss was hit in the shoulder, suffering a 
minimal level of damage. 
    And then Sylia's proximity alarm went off. "Damn it!!" she swore, turning 
to face her enemy as it swooped up behind her, powered by its own built-in 
thrusters. She didn't have time to dodge or parry before it swatted her back to 
the ground. 

    "C'mon, Leon, tell me what's happening!" Nene insisted, trying to sound 
casual about it. In truth, she was pretty anxious. "Do you copy? Over." 
    There was a pause, then Leon spoke again. "The Knight Sabers aren't doing 
very well either," he answered. "Two of them are down, and the other one is 
getting beaten up now ... shit, where's the fourth one at?! You'd better tell 
the flyboys to stand by, Nene. ...Hey, are you listening? Over." 
    "...Uh, roger that, Captain," she replied after a moment, and sent the 
message to the helo pilots via her console. 
    "Hey, Nene." It was Natsuko, behind her. "Hand me that, would you?" She was 
pointing to a cup of Coke resting atop Nene's terminal. 
    "Uh, sure," she replied with a nervous giggle, picking up the cup and 
holding it out for Natsuko to take it. As she did so, she was surprised to find 
that her hand was shaking. 
    Natsuko took the cup, giving Nene a strange look as she did so. 

    Sylia gritted her teeth as the Boomer lifted her over its head. It was 
clearly going to mash her into the street or rip her in half, and as it had 
pinned one of her arms she doubted that she could prevent it from doing either. 
Priss was locked into a similar situation a few yards away, and Linna was 
struggling to get to her feet but was obviously in a great deal of pain. 
    Sylia hoped the two of them would be able to get out of this alive. 
    The Boomer flexed its biomechanical muscles, and she bit her lip as her arm 
began to pull out of its socket... 
    And then something strange happened. 
    A man vaulted over the highway's guard rail, and without any hesitation ran 
-- not walked, not jogged, not even sprinted, but RAN -- full-tilt toward Sylia 
and the Boomer holding her. His silhouette was slightly obscured by the rain, 
but he was wearing a long coat which fluttered out behind him as he ran. He 
didn't appear to be wearing any type of body armor. 
    What's this, Sylia mused. A suicidal anti-Genom protester? She knew they 
existed, but hadn't actually seen one before. It seemed like kind of a stupid 
way to oppose a corporation, especially one as large as Genom. It wasn't as if 
there weren't already enough Boomer-related deaths to sway public opinion... 
    As the man rushed toward the Boomer, he suddenly reached down in mid-stride 
and pushed off from the ground, sending himself head over feet into a forward-
cartwheel. As he flipped through the air, Sylia saw a metallic flash beneath 
his coat. There was a loud *CHUNG!* as he came out of the flip, and he came to 
a stop, head bowed, right at the Boomer's feet. 
    Which reeled as if it had been struck a tremendous blow, and released its 
grip on Sylia. She dropped to the ground and landed in a crouch, and the Boomer 
fell apart, split neatly down the middle. Startled, Sylia glanced over her 
shoulder at the person who'd somehow saved her. 
    She couldn't see his face from this angle, but he was holding something. It 
looked like... 
    ...A sword?! 
    Sylia was not easily surprised or impressed, but right now she was both. 
This man had just cut an armored Combat Boomer in half ... with his bare hands 
and a SWORD?! But how was that possible? Who was he? 
    But this wasn't the time for questions, for the Boomer holding Priss gave a 
vicious growl and, tossing its previous opponent aside, it rushed toward Sylia 
and the sword-wielding interloper. Sylia jumped back and took aim at it with 
her hand-blaster, but before she could open fire the mysterious sword-swinger 
jumped between her and her target. 
    The Boomer lunged at the man with a punch that would easily splatter him 
across the street. But, moving with incredible speed, he dropped low and slid 
underneath its body, coming up behind it. Before the android could turn around, 
he'd slashed it across the upper torso. Its right arm and shoulder came away 
from its body, as did its head. But it wasn't done yet, and the rest of the 
body turned to blindly swat at its enemy with its remaining arm. He spun out of 
its path and chopped it off at the waist, ending the battle. 
    Sylia blinked behind her faceplate, then adopted a posture of authority. 
"Who are you?!" she demanded. 
    The man glanced at her, but it was far too fleeting for her to catch more 
than a vague glimpse of his face, obscured as it was by rain, distance and his 
own long hair. Then he vaulted back over the guard rail, leaving the three 
bewildered Knight Sabers alone with the remnants of four C-Class Boomers. 
    For a brief moment Sylia considered tailing their anonymous benefactor, but 
changed her mind as Priss and Linna struggled to their feet. She turned toward 
them. 
    "Can you make it?" she asked the two. They nodded wearily. 
    "Then, we'd better get out of here." 

    Leon watched the Knight Sabers' thruster streams fade from view, and slowly 
lowered his binoculars. Daley looked at him quizically, but he just sat there 
in silence. Raindrops continued to pelt the car intermittantly. 
    "Unit 18, this is Station One. What's your situation? Repeat, what's 
happening?" There was no response, and Nene's voice grew more frantic. "Leon, 
please! Tell me what happened!!" 
    Leon shook his head as if to clear it, and finally answered her. 
    "Station One, this is Unit 18. The Boomers are no longer functioning, and 
the Knight Sabers have left the scene. Beyond that ... I'm really not sure 
exactly what just happened." 

    The man crouched inside a nearby abandoned building, drying the blade of 
his traditional katana as he watched the Knight Sabers fly off out of sight. 
    So, he HAD managed to find them ... and so quickly, too. But, now what? He 
couldn't approach them yet ... they wouldn't trust him. Why should they? 
Excluding himself, there was no actual evidence of what was happening... 
    So, in order to complete his objective, he'd need to get some proof. And he 
had a pretty good idea of where he could find some, too. 

    The rain continued as the A.D. Police cleanup crews moved into the area a 
while later. Across town, it streamed down the windows of the Silky Doll 
building and broke the usual tranquility of the private swimming pool on the 
roof. 
    In a secret room inside, the three battered Knight Sabers were painfully 
climbing out of their armor. Sylia pulled off her helmet and shook out her 
hair, somehow managing to retain her regal poise even now. She released her 
suit's locking clamps, and began the elaborate process of removing the armor. 
    "Linna, as soon as you get your suit off, let me take a look at that," she 
told her, nodding to her midsection. A faint bloodstain was visible on Linna's 
softsuit as she took off her armor. 
    Sylia turned toward Priss, who was also about halfway out of her armor. "Do 
you have any serious injuries, Priss?" 
    "I'll live," Priss snorted. "By the way, your lip's bleeding." 
    Just then, the wall intercom beeped. Sylia stepped out of her hardsuit and 
walked over to it. She activated the monitor, and Nene's image appeared. 
    "Sylia! I just got off work. Is everyone okay?" She frowned, adding to her 
look of concern. "Your lip is bleeding." 
    Sylia gave her a tired smile. "Yes, I know. Come upstairs, we need to 
discuss some things." 
    Nene nodded. "I'll be right up." 
    Sylia's smile disappeared as soon as Nene's image did. As she wiped her 
mouth, Priss finished removing her armor and went into the next room to change 
into her clothes. Linna took off her softsuit, and Sylia bent down to examine 
her injury. A thin stream of blood dripped down her stomach from a point about 
two inches above her belly button, but the bleeding seemed to have stopped and 
none of the stitches sealing the wound were broken. The injury had already been 
mostly healed; otherwise the damage Linna had sustained from the Boomer's fist 
would have been far greater. 
    "It's not that bad," Sylia told her. "The stitches all held. If you take it 
easy for a day or so, it should be fine." She stood up. "I'll get a bandage." 
    As she walked over to the cabinet, the door slid open and Nene entered the 
room. "Sylia!" she exclaimed. "Is everybody all right?? What happened? I was 
listening in on the A.D.P. net, but the tactical boards don't register the 
suits, so I couldn't tell what was going on during the fight...!" 
    "No one was hurt badly," was Sylia's terse reply. She didn't smile this 
time. 
    "We got a little banged up, but it'll take more than this to stop us," 
Linna added. "The Knight Sabers always prevail! Right, Sylia?" She laughed 
nervously. 
    Sylia was silent. 
    "Oh, Linna, your stomach--!" Nene gasped, noticing her for the first time. 
    "It's okay. I just pulled it a little," Linna answered as she wrapped a 
bandage around her torso, with Sylia's help. 
    Nene looked relieved, then giggled mischieviously. "You know, Linna, you're 
lucky Mackie doesn't live here anymore." 
    "Oh, shut up," Linna groaned. "I feel bad enough without you bringing up 
stuff like that." 
    Nene leaned against the doorframe with a sigh, feeling a little useless. 
"I'm surprised you haven't had that scar taken care of yet," she commented on 
Linna's now-bandaged injury. 
    "Hey, money's tight!" Linna protested. "I'll do it after our next job. We 
WILL be taking on more jobs soon, won't we, Sylia?" she asked, sounding a 
little apprehensive. 
    "Why wouldn't we?" Sylia replied quietly. She seemed distracted. 
    "Maybe 'cause we keep losing easy fights like these," Priss said as she 
came back into the room. 
    "YAAH!! Priss!! What happened to you?!" Nene shrieked upon seeing her. "You 
look like a corpse! Did a Boomer drink your blood?!" 
    Priss blinked in confusion, then looked at her arm and scoffed. "Oh, the 
makeup. I forgot to take it off." 
    "Hey, did you bring me my clothes?" Linna asked her. 
    "Get 'em yourself!" Priss told her. "I'm not your slave." 
    "I swear! It's just a matter of consideration..." Linna's voice faded out 
of earshot as she walked out of the room. 
    "Hey, Priss, you didn't really use spray paint on your eyes, did you?" Nene 
asked, pointing. 
    "Of course not! It's mascara. Think I want to lose my eyesight?!" 
    "Well, I didn't know..." Nene pouted for a moment, then turned back to 
Sylia. "So, Sylia. Exactly what did happen? I couldn't get Leon to tell me." 
    Sylia leaned against a nearby console, apparently deep in thought. After a 
moment, she looked up and answered Nene. 
    "As Priss said, we lost the fight." 
    "Huh?" Nene blinked. "But ... but, then who destroyed the Boomers?" 
    "Someone appeared," Sylia said carefully. "A man ... he wasn't wearing any 
body armor, and he was carrying what appeared to be a sword." Her gaze passed 
from Nene to Priss, and back again. "And he destroyed two Combat Boomers in 
less time than it takes any of us to destroy one." 
    "With a SWORD?!" Nene repeated incredulously. "That's impossible!" 
    "I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't been there," Linna said as she returned, 
now fully clothed. "But if it wasn't true, we'd probably all be dead." 
    "What I want to know," Priss growled, "Is who the hell was that guy?!" 
    "I have no idea," Sylia answered. "Have either of you ever seen him before 
tonight?" 
    "I didn't EVEN see him tonight," said Linna. "It happened too fast." 
    "Me neither," Priss admitted. "I was too busy spitting out blood." 
    Sylia looked up at her, but Priss was already waving her down before she 
even spoke. "I told you, I'm okay. I'll live." 
    Nene adopted a posture of deep thought. "To cut through a Boomer's armored 
shell would either take a special type of blade, like the ones you guys use, or 
a tremendous amount of physical strength..." She shook her head. "I've never 
heard of anything like it." 
    Sylia shook her head as if to clear it, then looked up. "Nene. Tommorrow, 
find out what was in that truck." 
    "Huh? What truck?" Nene blinked. "Oh! You mean the Genom truck that those 
Boomers were attacking." 
    "Earth to Astronaut Romanova..." Linna snickered. 
    Nene frowned, but Sylia ignored the exchange and continued. "I need to know 
why those Boomers were attacking a truck owned by Genom. Maybe the cargo will 
provide some clues as to who was controlling them." 
    Nene saluted. "Yes, Ma'am! Anything else?" 
    Sylia shook her head. "Not right now." She turned to the others. "Priss. 
Linna. Come here." She walked across the room and through a door at the far 
end. Priss and Linna looked at each other, then Linna shrugged and followed. 
Priss did so a moment later with a reluctant sigh. Nene came along out of 
curiosity. 
    They walked down a narrow hallway, then turned a corner and entered a 
corridor none of them had been in before. There was another room on the right, 
and Sylia led them inside. 
    They were in a small control booth, and a door in the corner led into a 
larger room just beyond, which could be viewed through a window above the 
control panel. The arrangement looked remarkably familiar... 
    "Hey, this is just like Raven's garage!" Nene observed. 
    "Not quite," Sylia explained. "I had this room added during the renovation. 
It's a bit more ... specialized than the training room at Raven's. I haven't 
had cause to use it until now." She walked over to the console and began 
setting up a program. 
    Priss did a double-take. "You mean, RIGHT now?!" 
    Sylia nodded. 
    "But, we just changed!" Linna protested. 
    "I guess you'll have to change back," Sylia replied. 
    "C'mon, Sylia! I know we weren't at our best out there, but I'm beat!" 
Priss groaned. "Can't we do this tommorrow?" 
    "Considering the events that have transpired tonight, we may not have any 
time to waste." It was clear that these were Sylia's final words on the matter. 
There would be no further discussion. 
    "Well, uh, I'm gonna go home now ... I'll, um, see you all tommorrow!" Nene 
gave them a quick wave and hastily let herself out. 
    With a combined groan, Linna and Priss began undressing. 

    Kate Madigan was jolted out of a light sleep by the urgent ringing of her 
personal phone. She never slept deeply; deep sleepers couldn't climb the Genom 
corporate ladder. She tapped the receiver next to her bed, and rolled over to 
face it. The face of her raven-haired assistant stared back at her, looking 
very nervous. 
    "Ms. Madigan? It's Hino," she said unnecessarily. 
    Madigan glanced at the clock next to the phone. 2:33 A.M. She sighed. "I 
trust you're aware of the time, Rei." 
    "Yes Ma'am, I'm aware of that," she answered, "But I must inform you of 
something that has happened." 
    Madigan rubbed her eyes. "It's a matter of extreme importance, then." She 
spoke cordially, but her voice carried with it a subtle threat of what would 
happen if she deemed the matter unworthy of her attention. 
    "Yes, Ma'am, it's fair to say that," Hino answered gravely. "There's been a 
break-in ... at the Corporate Research Center." 
    "Where?" 
    "In the city. In MegaTokyo." 
    Madigan gave Hino a venomous look. "Check again. That building was 
destroyed last year during the satellite malfunction." 
    "There's no mistake, Ms. Madigan," Hino said, her brow creasing with worry 
(for her own future, no doubt). "Apparently, there was a secret vault below the 
basement levels, and it was shielded from the blast. We've found hundreds of 
files stored there, some of them dating before the earthquake. And some of 
these have obviously been stolen." She bowed her head in shame. "I'm sorry, Ms. 
Madigan ... I wasn't even aware that such a place existed." 
    Madigan was wide awake now. She hadn't known about it either, and she knew 
about almost everything Genom was involved with ... but someone had known. And 
whoever possessed the most knowledge had the tactical advantage. 
    She turned back to the phone. "I'll excuse you," she told Hino. "Is there 
anything else you can tell me?" 
    A look of immense relief crossed Hino's face, but then her expression 
darkened again. "Yes, something else has happened ... the storage maintenance 
crew has reported that, at exactly 2:17, they discovered that Vault 381 had 
been opened." 
    "Vault 381." Madigan repeated flatly. 
    "Yes, Ma'am ... it's empty now. No one knows what was being stored inside. 
It evidently had something to do with a project which was being personally 
overseen by your predecessor, Brian Mason. Mr. Mason was very secretive about 
it, as he tended to be about many things." Her frown deepened. "It may be very 
difficult do determine exactly what the vault's contents were. All we can 
really theorize at this point, given the nature of the storage compartment, is 
that it was something organic." Suddenly she tensed, her eyes jumping to an off-
screen monitor. "Wait ... Ms. Madigan, there's just been ANOTHER break-in!!" 
    "What the hell is going on?!" Madigan demanded, jumping out of bed. 
    "Just a moment..." Hino's brow furrowed in confusion. "This is strange ... 
it's just a meat locker. Why did this trigger an alarm? District Eight, Block 
Twenty-Three, Building C..." 
    "Where?!" Madigan breathed, her heart nearly catching in her throat. 
    Hino blinked. "I told you, Ma'am, it's just a meat locker. District Eight, 
Block Twenty-Three, Building C." 
    Madigan searched her memory, trying to confirm her fears. Yes, that was 
right. District Eight, Block Twenty-Three ... Building C. The storage unit for 
the prototype battlesuits. Who in the hell could be doing this...?? 
    "Hino, send Boomers Alpha-Two, Beta-Nine, and Gamma-Five to investigate 
those locations. Instruct them to report their findings directly to me. I will 
inform the Chairman of these developments." 
    Hino went pale. "The -- the Chairman?! This is that serious...?!" 
    Without another word, Madigan severed the connection. 

    After two and a half hours of the most demanding training they'd ever been 
through, Sylia had finally allowed Priss and Linna to get dressed and go home. 
Linna had mostly run through the reflex-testing exercises, so as not to strain 
her injury any further than was necessary. Priss had spent nearly the entire 
time slugging it out with holographic Boomers. 
    Linna picked up her duffle bag and headed for the door, pain and fatigue 
evident in her every movement. "See you tommorrow, if I don't fall asleep at 
the wheel..." she mumbled as she made her exit. 
    Priss dropped onto a couch and began pulling her boots on. "I think we got 
the message, Sylia," she muttered angrily once Linna was gone. 
    "Message?" Sylia repeated as she finished totalling their proficiency 
scores. 
    "If you don't think we're up to it, just tell us!" Priss snapped, jumping 
to her feet. "You don't need to jerk us around like this." 
    Sylia looked up at her. "Priss, most of these scores are lower than they 
were before I left -- for both of you. We both know that those Boomers weren't 
that tough. Something is obviously wrong; I'm just trying to determine exactly 
what it is." She paused. "Unless you'd like to tell me." 
    "How should I know?!" Priss looked away, biting back her anger. "I'm not 
the brains here." 
    Sylia set down her data board. "Priss ... does this have something to do 
with that incident that happened while I was gone?" she asked. 
    The question caught Priss by surprise. "I..." she stammered. 
    Sylia walked over to her, and looked her in the eye. 
    "...What happened wasn't your fault," she told her. It was the second time 
she'd spoken these words to Priss, but this time she added more to them. 
    "I trust you," she said. "I'll always trust you. And so do Linna and Nene. 
We all believe in you, Priss. Please understand that." 
    Priss stared back at Sylia, her auburn eyes filled with pain. 
    "...I want to believe you..." she whispered. 
    Then, she abruptly turned on her heel and ran out the door. It slammed shut 
behind her. 
    Sylia sighed, massaging her temples. 

                        *         *         *         *              

    Morning came, and the sun rose over the twisting concrete maze that was 
MegaTokyo just as it did on any other day, ignorant of the lives that had ended 
or been shattered the night before. Few could actually see it, however. The 
dark clouds lurking above the city continued to linger ominously, as if 
portending some dire fate for the city's populace. It continued to rain off and 
on, with no end in sight. 
    "...Meanwhile, meteorologists are expressing con-fusion overrrr the ... 
unusual weather patterns ... over MegaTokyo the last TWO, I said TWO, days. A-
parrently, a thick cloud formation has gath-ered directly over the centerrr of 
town, and it's j-just staying put! Travel inland, and you'll see c-c-clear 
skies! Isn't that weird? Mmmaybe the MOON is t-t-t-tilting..." 
    D.J. Tommy, the electronic 'infotainment' personality, continued to ramble 
on in such a way as to completely obscure any useful facts he was reporting 
with mindless, hyperactive drivel. As she stood in line at the grocery checkout 
counter, Linna tried her best to tune him out completely. 
    She suppressed a yawn, and it became a sigh. Her joints still ached from 
all the excitement last night. Not only from the fight with the Boomers, but 
because Sylia had really worked them hard afterwards. Maybe I was right, Linna 
thought to herself. Maybe she really doesn't trust us anymore. 
    Feeling depressed, she shifted her armfull of groceries around. And why 
SHOULD she trust us? We've let her down twice now! Is it all really worth it? 
Maybe we should just leave these things to people like that guy from last night 
... whoever he was. Maybe we're losing our edge somehow. Or... Maybe the 
Boomers are learning how to fight us? 
    She sighed again, then put on a bright smile for the cashier. 

    After checking out, Linna carried her bags out to her van. The rain had 
stopped for the moment, so thankfully she didn't need her umbrella. By the time 
she opened the rear gate, she'd come to a decision. 
    "Well, at any rate, I guess I'll stick by Sylia, and see what she decides 
to do." She spoke the words aloud, as if actually hearing a course of action 
outlined would quell her doubts. She lifted the grocery bags into the vehicle 
and straightened up, nodding to herself. "Yeah, that's it. I'll just wait, and 
see what happens." Then she closed the van's gate-- 
    --To suddenly discover a tall, trenchcoat-clad man standing less than a 
meter away, facing her. A pair of tinted sunglasses hid his eyes. 
    Linna jumped back with a yelp. The man also seemed startled, though, and 
raised his hands in a calming jesture. 
    "Um ... excuse me." He took off his glasses, revealing a pair of deep, dark 
eyes beneath his thick eyebrows. There was no menace in them. Now that Linna 
could see his face clearly, she saw that he had a strong, masculine jaw and 
profile, and a rugged and somewhat unshaven appearance. His long, brown hair 
fluttered slightly in the breeze, and it was obvious even with his worn 
trenchcoat that he had a very athletic build. 
    Linna guessed him to be in his mid-twenties, probably two or three years 
older than herself. She had never seen a man quite like him before; especially 
not in town. She instantly decided he was very handsome. 
    "Excuse me," he repeated in a low, quiet voice. Linna realized she'd been 
staring and immediately blushed. 
    "...Yes?" she answered, a note of apprehension -- both real and faked -- 
evident in her voice. 
    "I'm sorry to bother you," he continued, "But I was wondering if you could 
help me. I just got into town, and I was trying to find a certain place..." His 
voice trailed off, and Linna stood attentively, waiting for him to continue. He 
didn't -- at least not right away -- so she spoke up. 
    "Well ... that would all depend on where this place is," she replied, still 
playing at being a bit uncertain about him. She really was a bit uncertain, but 
told herself she was just acting. 
    He cleared his throat and reached into a coat pocket, from which he 
produced a small, crumpled piece of paper. As he unfolded it, Linna couldn't 
help but think that he seemed a little nervous, too. But why? Perhaps he'd been 
captivated by her charm...? 
    The man spoke again, interrupting her daydream. 
    "'Silky Doll'." He was reading from the note. 
    Linna blinked. "Huh?" 
    "It's the name of the place I'm looking for," he explained. "I think it's 
some kind of a store ... I need to find it." 
    "Oh, well!" she laughed. "In that case, you're in luck! I was planning to 
go there myself this afternoon..." she checked her watch. "...But first, I have 
to go meet some friends for lunch." 
    She glanced around, and decided to take a chance. "I know! Why don't you 
tag along, and then come with us to the shop after lunch!" 
    The man blinked, looking surprised. Then he shrugged. "Uh, okay. Thank you 
for ... inviting me." 
    "Oh, it's no trouble!" she gushed, her reservations evaporating. "By the 
way, my name is Linna. Linna Yamazaki." 
    "My name is Hiroshi Toshiba." He smiled slightly, but it made him look 
strange somehow -- almost as if he wasn't used to doing it. 
    "Hiroshi! What a dignified name." Linna smiled, batting her eyelashes 
slightly. "And Toshiba, like the recording company. Very distinguished." 
    "..." 
    Linna nodded to herself. "Well, Hiroshi, do you have a car?" 
    "Umm ... no." 
    "Well then, we'll take mine." She walked around to the driver's side, 
waving for him to take the passenger's seat. After a brief moment of 
hesitation, he did so. 
    
    "I wonder if it's gonna rain again?" Nene commented as she peered out the 
rain-streaked window, watching for Linna's van. "And, will Linna get here 
before it does? She's sure taking her time." 
    She and Priss were seated in the Ragu Steakhouse, a favorite restaraunt of 
Priss's. They'd been waiting to order for about fifteen minutes, but Linna 
hadn't joined them yet. And that didn't help Priss's mood, which wasn't good to 
begin with. 
    "C'mon, let's just order already," she muttered, fingering her utensils as 
she slumped over the table. "Linna probably went shopping, or met some guy or 
something like that. She's not gonna show." 
    "But, I'm sure she'd at least call us," Nene argued. "She wouldn't just 
leave us waiting. It's only good manners to wait for her." 
    "To hell with manners!" Priss barked. "I'm starving! At least you've eaten 
something already; I haven't had ANYTHING yet today!" She glared at Nene. "And 
I've got you to thank for that, too!" 
    "Hey, it isn't my fault my scooter wouldn't start!" Nene protested, but 
then decided to try diplomacy. "Thanks again for picking me up, though." 
    Priss shrugged, still scowling. "You probably just need a new battery ... 
have Pops look at it this afternoon." She heaved a disgusted sigh. "Man, I'm 
sick of having to worry about everybody else's stuff. First Heath calls me up 
whining about his bike, then you call me about your scooter..." 
    "Heath?" Nene blinked. "Who's that?" 
    "Ahh, my bass player," Priss muttered. "Somebody ripped off his bike last 
night while we were playing. I'm just glad they didn't take mine." 
    "Ah!" Nene exclaimed, looking past Priss. "Here she is...!" 
    Seeing Nene's expression change, Priss glanced over her shoulder toward the 
door. Linna had indeed entered the restaraunt, and there was a tall man with 
long hair accompanying her. 
    Priss rolled her eyes, then turned back to Nene. "What'd I tell you." 
    "Sorry I'm late," Linna told her friends as she pulled up a chair at their 
table. "But I met this gentleman on my way here. He's just gotten into town, 
and he was looking for Sylia's place, so I told him he could come with us after 
lunch." She smiled cheerfully, oblivious to the fact that Priss and Nene were 
staring at her in shock. "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce you. His name's 
Hiroshi Toshiba. Hiroshi, these are my friends Priss and Nene." 
    "Hello," Hiroshi said quietly as he sat down. His voice and manner seemed 
ill-suited to a man his size. 
    "Linna." Nene spoke through a clenched-tooth smile, glaring at Linna while 
trying to keep her expression pleasant for Hiroshi's sake. "Would you come with 
me to the ladies' room for a minute?" 
    "Huh?" Linna blinked. "What for?" 
    "Just come." Nene half-dragged Linna away from the table, leaving Hiroshi 
and Priss alone in silence. 
    
    "What is it?!" Linna demanded, snatching her arm out of Nene's grasp as 
soon as the door had swung shut behind them. 
    "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING??!" Nene exploded. "You just met 
this guy, and you're gonna bring him along to meet Sylia??? What if he's some 
kind of a spy, or somebody from Genom -- or both?! What were you thinking??" 
    Linna frowned. "No way. He couldn't be." 
    "HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!" Nene practically screamed at her. "I bet he's an 
assassin! He comes up to you and asks you where Sylia Stingray is, and you say 
'I'll take you to her'?! Linna, have you gone completely nuts?!" 
    "Oh, he didn't ask about Sylia!" Linna laughed dismissively. "And actually, 
I kinda bumped into HIM. No, he just wanted directions to the shop. That's 
all." She blushed a little. "And he really is cute, so I asked if he wanted to 
have lunch with us too ... he couldn't possibly be an assassin, or anything 
like that." 
    "And why does that big, shady-looking GUY want to go to a lingerie shop?" 
Nene grated. 
    Linna paused for a second, scratching her head, then glared at Nene. 
"That's none of our business!" With a haughty sniff, she turned on her heel. 
"Now then, let's go back out there so you can meet him for yourself." Without 
waiting for a reply, she went back out into the restaraunt. 
    Nene wished she was bigger so she could grab Linna and smash her head 
through the bathroom mirror. As it stood, she could only sigh in absolute 
disgust before following her. 

    Linna and Nene returned to the table to find Priss and Hiroshi locked in 
what seemed to be a stare-down. 
    "Priss!" Linna exclaimed indignantly, walking around to her chair next to 
Hiroshi. "What're you doing?!" 
    Priss jabbed a finger at their guest. "This guy seems really familiar for 
some reason." 
    "You mean you know him?" Nene asked. 
    Priss shook her head. "I don't know ... I just think we've met before." 
    Linna gave him a questioning look. "Hiroshi, is that true?" 
    He glanced at her, then looked back at Priss again before speaking. "I'm 
sorry, but ... I don't know you." 
    "Of course not! How could you have met before, if he only just arrived in 
the city?" Linna added with an authoritative nod. 
    Priss looked unconvinced, but let it go. "Whatever. Can we order now?" 
    They flagged down a waitress, and placed their respective orders (except 
for Hiroshi, who declined to have anything even when Linna offered to pay). 
After she walked away, Nene didn't waste any time. 
    "Well, then, now we can all get acquainted!" she declared with an over-
cheerful grin. "I work at A.D. Police. What do you do for a living, Hiro? Oh, 
do you mind if I call you Hiro?" 
    "Nene!" Linna scolded, frowning at her flagrant lack of respect. 
    Hiroshi smiled slightly -- again, a strange sight. "Hiro is fine." He 
coughed, then answered Nene's question. "I don't have a job right now. I've 
just been wandering around for a long time ... and now, I've come here." 
    "Hmm." Nene nodded. "So, where are you from originally?" 
    "Originally?" 
    "Yes. Where were you born?" 
    "I ... was born in MegaTokyo," he replied after a moment. "That's why I've 
come back here." 
    "Ah! I see." Nene smiled. "So, where were you before you came back?" 
    "Well..." Hiro fidgeted in his seat. "I think I was somewhere in Europe." 
    "You think?" Nene frowned. "What do you mean?" 
    "Well... You see..." He seemed to be searching for the right word, and 
finally settled on one. "I guess I have ... amnesia. I can't completely 
remember where I've been, or what I did there." 
    Something about that set off a little alarm in the back of Nene's mind. But 
before she could question Hiro further, Priss spoke. 
    "Well, in that case, why the hell have you come all the way to MegaTokyo 
looking for a fuckin' lingerie shop? Don't they have any in Asia?" 
    "Priss, please!" Linna cried, mortified. "Would it hurt you to be just a 
little bit more polite??" 
    "A what?" Hiro blinked, looking confused. 
    "Silky Doll," Priss said. "The lingerie shop you said you were looking for. 
What do you need there?" 
    "That's not fair, Priss!" Linna argued. "You can buy other things there 
too...!" 
    Priss snorted. "Yeah, women's clothing." 
    Hiro groaned and bowed his head while Linna was scolding Priss. "It WOULD 
be something like that," he muttered under his breath. After a moment, he 
looked back up to face Nene and Priss's suspicious stare. 
    "I ... I just need to find that place." That was his only answer. It 
obviously didn't satisfy them, but at that moment their food arrived, 
postponing any further discussion on the matter. 

    The four emerged from the restaraunt about twenty minutes later, and Priss 
immediately climbed onto her motorcycle while the others lingered at the curb. 
Linna continued to fawn over Hiro while Nene looked on in disgust. 
    "I'm gonna go on ahead. I'll see you guys there," Priss called, shooting 
Nene a glance as she revved her engine. 
    Nene caught the look, and suddenly straightened up as though remembering 
something. "Ack! I forgot something inside! Wait for me, okay Linna?" Without 
waiting for a reply, she ran back into the restaraunt. 
    Priss pulled on her riding helmet, hiding her smirk as she roared away. 
    "I swear!" Linna sighed. "I wonder what it is this time. I can't believe 
the things Nene will forget sometimes. Her keys? Her wallet? Her I.D. card? Why 
doesn't she ever learn?" 
    Hiroshi, meanwhile, was watching Priss cruise out of sight, which didn't 
take long considering the amount of traffic on the street. "I don't think your 
friend likes me very much," he commented. 
    "Who, Priss?" Linna turned back to face him. "Oh, don't worry about it. 
She's not very friendly to begin with, but on top of that she's in a lousy mood 
these days. I'm sure it's nothing personal. I mean, I can't think of a good 
reason for anyone not to like you when they don't even... Oh, here comes Nene."
    "Sorry about that, Linna!" Nene panted as she returned, slightly out of 
breath from running. "I forgot the papers Sylia wanted! Can you believe that?" 
    "Yes," Linna muttered, scowling at her. 
    "Sylia?" Hiro repeated. 
    "Oh, she's another friend of ours," Linna laughed as she turned back toward 
Hiro again. "She owns Silky Doll." 
    "Why," Nene asked, glaring at Linna (she was awfully free with the facts 
today...) while Hiro wasn't looking. "Do you know her?" 
    "Uh, no, I'm sure I don't," he replied. "But the name is familiar." 
    "Really?" Nene continued, acting wide-eyed and innocent. "That's strange. I 
haven't met too many 'Sylia's'." 
    "Me neither," he agreed. "I just remember hearing the name somewhere." 
    "But I thought you had amnesia," Nene persisted. 
    "Well..." 
    "Honestly Nene, would you give it a rest?" Linna interrupted, leading 
Hiroshi toward her van. "Let's go already! Come on, get in the back!" 
    Sulking, Nene obeyed. Linna, you moron, She told her silently. Wait until 
Sylia finds out about this. I can't wait to hear what she says... 
    Hiro got in on the passenger's side, and Linna started the car and pulled 
away from the curb, joining the flow of traffic. Nene noticed that Hiro gazed 
out the window as they drove, like a tourist. Or maybe he was memorizing the 
route they were taking... 
    "You know, Hiro, you're actually fortunate not having a car," Linna was 
saying. "It's kind of a hassle, what with this traffic. Hey--! Look at that! 
See what I mean?!" Another driver had cut her off, as if to prove her point. 
    "Well ... I never learned to drive, anyway," He replied quietly. "At least, 
not a car." 
    "Really?" Linna looked over at him. "Imagine, a man with your profile not 
being able to drive a car ... I can't believe it!" 
    "WATCH THE ROAD!!!" Nene shrieked, pointing wildly. 

    "'--Well, Chet, that footage was certainly very interesting. It clearly 
features the reappearance of the Knight Sabers, that ever-anonymous group of 
armored vigilantes, who have been absent from the public eye since last month's 
disaster involving Genom's Mobile Construction Unit. But I'm sure the larger 
question on everyone's mind today is, who is this mystery man who showed up out 
of the blue and apparently destroyed two Combat Boomers with what -- on the 
film, anyway -- looked like a hand-held weapon, like a pipe or maybe even a 
sword?'" 
    "'That's the real question all right, Nina. And A.D. Police isn't offering 
any answers, either. Our specialists have analyzed this recording, and due 
partly to distance and weather conditions, they are unable to reconstruct the 
man's appearance to a satisfactory level. He seems to be wearing a long coat, 
but that's a fairly common article, so--'" 
    With a flick of a switch, the television clicked off. 
    A heavy silence filled the air in the office of Warren Montgomery as he 
pondered the newsreel footage he'd been seeing all morning. No, ponder was too 
light a word ... it was more like meditation. 
    Unlike the newscasters and all but a very few of MegaTokyo's citizens, 
Montgomery knew exactly what was happening, and that was why he was so deeply 
troubled. As a former Genom executive, he'd been an assistant to Brian Mason 
and had been directly involved in the project that was now coming to fruition 
before his eyes. After Mason's death, he'd resigned quietly and tried to forget 
about the horrible things he'd seen during the project's development ... but it 
seemed that fate had now dictated otherwise. 
    Somehow, someone at Genom must have figured out Mason's access codes ... 
there was no other way this could be happening. At any rate, the facts would 
soon be discovered one way or another. And if that happened, Mongomery would 
surely be indicted on too many charges to name, as a surviving co-conspirator. 
    Unless ... unless he immediately went public with what he knew. Then, 
depending on how the situation unfolded, he could at least avoid a messy trial. 
If luck was on his side, he might even come out of it looking like a hero. 
    It really wasn't much of a choice. 
    He tapped the intercom on his desk. "Ritsuko, I've decided to hold a press 
conference on the front steps tommorrow night. Please take care of the 
announcement, security, and the other details." 
    "Yes, Sir," his secretary replied politely. The intercom clicked off. 
    Montgomery leaned back in his chair, hoping he was doing the right thing. 

    At last, Nene, Linna and Hiroshi stood in front of the Silky Doll building. 
As a giant holographic display rotated above them, Nene shifted her weight 
nervously from one foot to the other. She was keeping her fingers crossed that 
she was wrong about Hiro ... or, if she was right, that Sylia would be ready 
for whatever he might have in store. Priss had had adequete time to beat them 
here and warn her. 
    "I keep telling Sylia that she should let me model for the ad sometime," 
Linna was saying, indicating the rotating hologram as they passed underneath it 
and entered the building. "Don't you think so, Hiro?" 
    "Um ... sure." He seemed distracted and his eyes darted back and forth, 
taking in their surroundings as they made their way into the ground level shop. 
Sylia would be tending it at this time of day, but as they approached the 
counter Nene didn't see her around. She spotted Priss leaning against the far 
wall, scowling at a few milling customers. Looking up, she saw Nene and jerked 
her head toward a door at the back of the shop. Nene nodded in recognition. 
    "I'll go look in back," she told Linna, and ran off before she could reply. 
Nene reached the doorway and stuck her head through, hissing "Sylia! Psst, 
Sylia!!" The room was dark, and the racks of undisplayed clothing stuffed 
inside made it seem more like a small closet than an expansive storage area. 
But Nene could see a very small, orange light at the opposite side of the room, 
between the racks... 
    "I hear you, Nene," Sylia answered calmly. She took a draw from the 
cigarette, causing it to glow brightly and illuminate her classical features. 
"Priss told me about Linna's guest. I'll be out in a moment." 
    "Oh. Uhh ... okay," was the only response that sprang to Nene's mind. She 
turned around to return to the shop, and was startled to find Priss standing 
right behind her. 
    "Ack!! Don't do that!" Nene yelped, swatting at her. 
    "What?" Priss snapped back. "I'm just waiting for Sylia!" 
    Who immediately stepped between them, giving each one a short but stern 
glance. Then the three turned to face Linna, who was approaching. 
    "Sylia! Hi!" She waved cheerfully. "I'd like you to meet someone. This is 
Hiroshi Toshiba..." 
    Linna's voice trailed off when she realized she was introducing an empty 
space. 
    Sylia waited expectantly. 
    "What the hell?!" Priss barked, looking wildly around the room. The man was 
gone. There was absolutely no trace of him anywhere. It was as if he'd vanished 
into thin air. 
    "Hoooo boy," Nene breathed. 
    Sylia raised a quizzical eyebrow. 
    "Well, he was here a second ago!" Linna cried, looking around in confusion. 
"Maybe he got lost...?" 
    "Come on," Priss snorted. "We're in an enclosed room." 
    Sylia cleared her throat, which prompted the other three to quiet down a 
bit. "Would someone please explain what's going on?" she asked, the slightest 
hint of impatience evident in her voice. 
    "Linna brought a spy in here!" Priss and Nene proclaimed simultaneously. 
    "He is NOT a spy!" Linna protested. 
    "Wake UP, Linna!!" Priss barked, nearly slapping her. "You bump into this 
guy, and he's looking for Sylia's place. Then you bring him here, and poof! He 
disappears! It makes him look a little bit suspicious." 
    "But ... but..." Linna glared at Priss briefly, then averted her eyes. 
    Sylia let out a sigh. "All right, we'll discuss this later. Right now, I 
need to know everything you can possibly tell me about this man. Let's go 
upstairs." She waved to a clerk to tend to the sales counter, then leaned back 
into the storage room and snapped her fingers. There was a short, low humming 
sound; Nene recognized it as one of the motoroids powering down. She swallowed, 
her throat suddenly dry. Sylia really HAD been prepared! 
    Her preparations complete, Sylia led them out of the shop and into an 
elevator which would take them up to her floor. As the doors slid shut, she 
glanced at Nene. 
    "By the way, Nene, did you bring the files I asked for last night?" 
    Nene displayed her folder. "They're right here, Sylia. I hope they tell us 
something definite." 
    "Agreed," was her only response. 
    Behind them, Priss nudged Linna. 
    "I guess the rules aren't quite as important today as they were yesterday, 
huh?" she muttered sarcastically. 
    Linna frowned at her, then looked at the wall. 

    "Let me make sure that I've heard you correctly." 
    The scowling visage of Quincy, Genom's all-powerful CEO, looked even less 
friendly than usual as he spoke. "Three incursions last night, all within a 
thirty-minute timespan, and ALL were perpetrated against facilities that 
officially do not exist." His displeasure at this was very clear. "First, the 
storage bunker beneath the old Corporate Research Center is not only 
discovered, but penetrated, and sensitive documentation removed. Second, one of 
Mason's secret 'pet projects' disappears without a trace. Third, one of the 
prototype test models for the discontinued line of 2030 battlesuits is 
discovered and stolen." 
    "That's all correct, Sir," Madigan answered, her voice even. Aside from the 
Chairman himself, she was the only other person in the enormous office. 
Quincy's face was now a mask of shadows, and she couldn't be sure if it was due 
to her news or the late afternoon sunlight. He rose from his desk and slowly 
began pacing. Despite the fact that he leaned on a cane, the Chairman was still 
a tall and imposing figure. The glistening MegaTokyo skyline at his back seemed 
to pale alongside the forceful presence the man generated. 
    "If I may ask a question, Sir," Madigan began, "No one seems to know 
exactly what Mason was keeping in that vault. When the interior was examined, 
special equipment for the long-term storage and maintenence of organic material 
was found. Also, the door appears to have been opened from the inside. Do you 
have any idea what Mason might have been keeping in there?" 
    Quincy stopped for a moment, apparently pondering. After a few seconds had 
passed, he glanced at Madigan again. 
    "Not offhand." The pacing resumed, and a moment later he spoke again. "At 
any rate, without idle speculation as to who the person or persons responsible 
for this could be, it's safe to assume that we can expect to hear from them 
again very soon." 
    Madigan nodded. "Yes, Sir, I agree. I have assigned three Boomers to 
investigate the matter, and I will be reviewing their report data personally." 
    Quincy nodded his approval. "Is there anything else?" 
    "Actually, Sir, there is. Are you familiar with a man by the name of Warren 
Montgomery?" 
    "Yes, I believe he was..." Quincy stopped pacing, and his eyes narrowed. 
"...One of Mason's subordinates." 
    Madigan nodded. "Yes, Sir. He retired shortly after Mason's death, and has 
been running a small firm called Royal Mount. Early this afternoon, his 
secretary announced that Mr. Montgomery would be holding a press conference 
tomorrow evening at eight o'clock on the steps of the Royal Mount office. He 
has arranged for live coverage of the event. I suspect this may be involved 
somehow with the various incidents that occurred last night. It's possible that 
he could be responsible for the theft of the contents of Vault 381." 
    "Hmmm." Quincy sat back down at his desk, his posture one of deep thought. 
    Madigan took a bold step forward. "Sir, shall I have Montgomery sanctioned 
as a precautionary measure?" 
    Now Quincy looked up. "Absolutely not." 
    "But, Sir, what if--" 
    "I see no way this man could possibly harm us. Genom is a respectable 
company, after all. On the contrary, he may prove to be useful. Perhaps his 
speech will shed some light on what is really going on here." Quincy leaned 
back in his chair. "If he turns out to be in possession of the vault's 
contents, we may have to deal with him. But not before then." 
    Madigan bowed hastily. "Of course, Sir. You're right." 
    "Assign a Boomer to watch him," the Chairman added. "Record everything he 
has to say, and if it is of interest, question him after the speech. Don't let 
anyone else near him." 
    Madigan bowed again. "At once, Sir." 

    "--Wearing a long coat, but that's a fairly common article, so it's not 
worth much in terms of identifying this strange figure. Maybe it's Zorro?" 
    The two newscasters tittered at their clever humor. 
    "Well Chet, I don't think even Zorro would be THIS effective against wild 
Boomers. There's already been rampant speculation that this man could be part 
of a special task force, developed by the government as an improvement over 
A.D. Police, or that he could even be affiliated with the Knight Sabers. The 
official A.D. Police response to all of these questions and more is, 'no 
comment'." 
    The television clicked off, and a heavy silence settled into the office. 
After a long moment, it was broken by the man to whom the office belonged; 
namely, the Chief of A.D. Police. 
    "This is obviously an embarassment to the Department, gentlemen," he said, 
straightening his glasses. "In this case, the press knows just as much about 
the incident as we do, despite the fact that we had officers present at the 
scene. Exactly how did this footage leak out?" 
    He looked expectantly at the other two people in the room -- Captains Leon 
McNichol and Shiro Yamada -- for an answer to his question. After heaving a 
reluctant sigh, Leon spoke. 
    "Well Chief, it turns out that there happened to be a kid with a long-range 
camera about a mile away, shooting some footage for a class project. He picked 
up on the battle, and evidently made a quick buck selling the footage to the 
networks." He snorted in contempt. "If it weren't for the tabloid mentality of 
the press, we wouldn't have a problem." 
    "Be that as it may," Yamada interjected, "In the public's eyes, it still 
makes A.D. Police look incompetent!" 
    Leon gritted his teeth. "What makes us look incompetent is the beauracracy 
that forces us to fight Boomer crime with one hand tied behind our back! You 
should know that better than anybody, Yamada! Maybe if a more well-armed force 
had been sent out there last night, we could've wrapped it all up before the 
Knight Sabers even got there!" 
    "But they didn't fare any better," Yamada pointed out. His eyes narrowed. 
"If the great and wonderful Knight Sabers couldn't beat those Boomers, how 
could we be expected to? After all, we're only the goddamn Advanced Police!!" 
    An uncomfortable silence hung in the air after Yamada had spat out the last 
of his sarcastic statement. Leon thought the man was acting awfully cocky, 
considering that he'd been stripped of his command following the G.M.C.U. 
disaster. He was lucky they'd let him keep his stripes. He'd spent a lot of 
time brown-nosing to the Chief since then; Leon suspected that probably had 
something to do with it. And Yamada's words were a clear indicator that his 
opinion of the Knight Sabers remained the same as always; in fact, it seemed to 
be a bit less charitable since he'd had his broken nose reconstructed. 
    The Chief cleared his throat. "Speaking of the Knight Sabers ... once 
again, Captain McNichol, you had an opportunity to apprehend them, and made no 
attempt to do so." He adjusted his glasses. "This is the second time in as many 
months that this has happened. How do you explain this?" 
    Leon was genuinely taken aback by the sudden shift in the line of 
questioning. "You've gotta be kidding." 
    "It's no joke, McNichol." Yamada sounded infuriatingly smug. 
    The Chief continued. "I am aware that you hold the Knight Sabers in high 
regard, Captain McNichol, nor are you the only officer in the force to have 
that opinion. But we must enforce the law. Their organization has never been a 
legitimate one, but according to the 2033 legislation that came into effect on 
the fifth of last month, A.D. Police must now play an active role in their 
capture. The reasons for this should be abundantly clear after the incident at 
the Nuclear Fusion Reactor--" 
    "Where they saved the entire city, and not for the first time either!" Leon 
interrupted. "For God's sake, this building wouldn't be here if it weren't for 
the Knight Sabers! And now we're supposed to arrest them?!" 
    "They're mercenaries!!" Yamada exploded as the Chief fidgeted. "Their 
vigilante activities are clearly dangerous! The law's the law, and that's the 
bottom line." 
    Leon snorted in disgust, then shrugged. "Yeah, the law's the law, except 
when it makes the shirts Upstairs nervous. Anyway, there's nothing we could've 
done against them last night. It was just me and Daley there, and neither of us 
had enough hardware to try to take them down. Just ask Daley about it, he'll 
back me up." 
    The Chief nodded in agreement. "Yes, I think Detective Wong should also be 
a part of this meeting. Would you call him in here, Captain Yamada?" 
    Yamada leaned out the door and shouted into the crowded office beyond. 
    "HEY, WONG!! Take your pistol out of your ass and get in here!!" 
    A collective gagging noise erupted from nearly everyone present in the 
crowded room; some were offended by Yamada's vulgarity, and the rest were 
stifling their laughter. Leon slapped his forehead while the Chief pretended 
not to have noticed. 
    Daley looked up from his desk and frowned. 

    Two floors above them, Natsuko Ikari stepped off the elevator. She made her 
way down a rarely-travelled hallway, and finally stopped before a black door. 
    Glancing around to make sure she was alone, she knocked three times. 
    A long moment passed, and then the door opened to reveal a dark room 
beyond. Natsuko stepped inside, and the door automatically closed behind her. 
She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, and gradually became aware 
of a dim light coming in through a small window at the far end of the room. She 
could now make out a desk beside the window, and a figure seated behind it. 
    She took a hesitant step toward the desk. "Sir?" she called softly. "It's 
Ikari." 
    A small lamp on the desk flared to life, dimly illuminating the features of 
the man behind it, but it was enough for Natsuko to recognize him. She 
approached the desk, visibly relieved. 
    "Report," the man said. 
    She nodded. "Sir, having followed through on the lead I acquired last 
December, I believe that I have identified the mole. There is a ninety-eight 
percent probability that she is a dispatcher..." She produced a file folder 
with a photograph clipped to it. "...Named Nene Romanova." 
    The man behind the desk took the folder and flipped through it. "Ninety-
eight percent, eh?" He raised his eyebrows. 
    Natsuko could barely contain her pride. "Out of all the possible 
candidates, she met nearly every qualifying factor." She ticked them off on her 
fingers. "Displays above average computer skill, has access to communications 
equipment within the building, is aware of every Boomer incident reported to 
A.D. Police, and is absent from the building during said incidents with 
suspicious frequency, sometimes in the middle of her shift. Also has taken sick 
leave due to injury twice so far this year." She looked up. "It just so happens 
these days directly followed incidents which involved the Knight Sabers; 
specifically, the crisis out at the Nuclear Fusion Reactor, and the rampage of 
Genom's prototype Mobile Construction Unit." She frowned. "The only parameter 
she didn't meet was physical fitness and combat ability, but ... then again, 
they have those combat suits. They don't all HAVE to be athletes." 
    The man smiled as he set down the folder. "It definitely looks like a 
match," he agreed. "After all this time, our work has finally paid off." He 
looked up at Natsuko, who was smiling broadly. "Now, we have to move quickly." 
    "Shall I contact Internal Affairs?" she asked. 
    The man shook his head. "At this point in the investigation, bringing in 
anyone else would only waste time. We can handle this. I have the authority." 
    Natsuko nodded in compliance. He continued. 
    "You and I are the only ones who know about this, Ikari ... and for the 
moment, it MUST stay that way." He saw her questioning look, and answered it. 
"This must be handled quietly. If it became public knowledge that the Knight 
Sabers have had a mole inside A.D. Police for nearly three years, the 
department would be a laughingstock. You and I will confront Miss Romanova 
alone. After she has been properly questioned, she will stand trial." 
    "You and I ... alone?" Natsuko looked concerned. "But ... what if ... well, 
okay, if that's how you think it should be done. I'm sure her address is in the 
file--" 
    "No." The man shook his head again. "We have to do it here, in the tower, 
in neutral territory. There's going to be a large media event tomorrow evening, 
correct?" 
    Natsuko nodded. "Yes, a former Genom executive is holding a press 
conference at eight. He's requested A.D. Police presence as a security measure, 
so the shirts upstairs seem to think it's something pretty important. At any 
rate, most of the force that isn't out on patrol will be there." 
    "Excellent. Ikari. Arrange to meet Romanova in the computer lab at 8:30. 
I'll meet you there at 8:15." 
    "Tomorrow...?" Natsuko hesitated. 
    "Is there a problem with that, Ikari?" 
    "N ... no, Sir! I just didn't realize we'd be moving so quickly..." She 
straightened up and saluted. "I'll see you tomorrow evening at 8:15." 

    Sylia puzzled over the contents of Nene's file, her only companion a small 
reading lamp. Outside the circle of light it generated, darkness had engulfed 
her bedroom as she sat absorbed in her studies. 
    She sighed, and put the folder down to drain a little more of her coffee 
pot. It just didn't make any sense, no matter how thoroughly she analyzed the 
report. The Genom truck had simply been transporting supplies, and nothing out 
of the ordinary, either. Some construction equipment, and some fairly 
commonplace Boomer components, and not much else. But why had the Boomers 
attacked it? That was highly unusual. Sylia would've found it easier to pass 
off as a genuine CPU glitch if it weren't for the fact that there HAD been 
something different about those Boomers. While it was true that Linna's and 
Priss's combat skills had definitely been off that night, the Boomers had 
fought with a more coordinated strategy than 55-C's usually did. Too 
coordinated to classify as simple rampaging. As it stood, Sylia strongly 
suspected that someone had been directly controlling them. So therefore, there 
had to be a reason for the attack on that particular supply truck. If she could 
figure out what that was, she would be that much closer to identifying their 
opponent. But so far, the cargo wasn't telling her anything. There was no real 
value, separate or combined, of the inventory. Unless it had been carrying 
something that had escaped the A.D.P.'s notice, or simply been left out of 
their report for one reason or another. The more time she spent looking at the 
file, the more convinced Sylia became that this must be the case. 
    Of course, the truck wasn't her only concern. Or even the most pressing, 
for that matter. 
    She'd studied their hardsuits' visual records very thoroughly, searching 
for clues to the identity of their mysterious rescuer from the night of the 
battle. None of them yielded any satisfactory data, or even a discernable image 
of the man's face. Whoever he was, he had definitely known what he was doing. 
He'd managed to destroy two Combat Boomers in a way that, under normal 
circumstances, was absolutely ludicrous; and he'd been able to largely conceal 
his identity at the same time. 
    So, Sylia was forced to speculate, which was something she really didn't 
like to do. The only plausible explanations were that he was either a new type 
of Combat Boomer -- which would likely have been developed by someone OTHER 
than Genom, since he'd destroyed their property -- or that he was some kind of 
enhanced humanoid. This was also unlikely, as there were no cybernetic limb 
attachments or upgrades on the market (even the black one) which were capable 
of performing at such a level without greatly slowing their owner down, not to 
mention shredding their organic body -- neither of which were problems their 
rescuer had suffered from in the slightest. If such a thing DID exist, its 
design and construction would require a level of engineering skill and 
technological genius that was beyond Sylia's capabilities. 
    That is to say, it was impossible. 
    And then there was the subject of the 'visitor' who'd stopped by that 
afternoon, and hadn't bothered to introduce himself. Sylia had discussed this 
matter with the others at great length, keeping them there well into the 
evening. Linna had described him as being "tall and rugged, with a manly 
profile and gentle brown eyes". Priss had said he was "big and kind of ratty-
looking, like a lost hesher with no place to go". She thought she'd seen him 
before, but couldn't remember where. And Nene had just said that he was "big 
and dark". Their respective versions of the man became more confusing from 
there. Linna claimed he'd asked her for directions to the Silky Doll shop, and 
the rest had all been her idea. Nene swore he was specifically looking for 
Sylia. Priss just said he was "weird", and that she didn't trust him. Of 
course, Priss really didn't trust ANYONE, but from Sylia's viewpoint that was 
one of her most valuable characteristics. About the only thing the three agreed 
on completely was his name: Hiroshi Toshiba. 
    From their description of his general build and appearance, Sylia dimly 
wondered if this Mr. Toshiba might be the same man they'd met on the highway. 
    But before she could ponder any of these things further, her thoughts were 
interrupted by the loud *whirr* of a passing A.D.P. patrol helo. A noise that, 
with her room's insulated windows, she shouldn't have been able to hear nearly 
so well. 
    Looking around the room, Sylia saw that one of the windows overlooking the 
roof had somehow come loose and was swinging open lazily in the breeze, the 
blinds still shut and in place. 
    She froze. 
    Motionless, Sylia listened intently. The only thing she could hear was 
distant traffic noise from the streets far below. No footsteps, no movement of 
any kind. Not even any breathing (not that that meant anything in 2034). 
    Why hadn't the alarms gone off? 
    The seconds ticked by, and the only thing in the room that moved was the 
window itself, as it continued to slowly swing back and forth. There was a low 
rumble of thunder, and the rain started back up. It began coming in through the 
open window. 
    Sylia waited a while longer, then finally sighed in resignation and stood 
up. She approached the window to close it, although she continued to move with 
caution.
    And when she reached the window, she saw a shadowy figure crouched directly 
outside, facing her. Lightning flashed at his back, as if God himself had seen 
fit to add even more drama to the moment. All it illuminated was the man's 
intense gaze. 
    As Sylia stood there facing him, he spoke two words. 
    "Sylia Stingray." 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Author's notes - Part One: 
    "It's a long time, a long time comin'..." 
    Some explanation is due regarding the origins of this story. The original 
concept, plot, and additional characters were all created almost entirely by my 
friend Aaron Whiteside, shortly after I originally wrote BGC: Berserk. That is, 
nearly two and a half years ago. We've devoted a lot of time and energy to 
other projects since then, most of which have not yet been made public (but 
will be following the completion of this story). After I wrote Ranma 1/2: The 
Sands of Time, we decided a return trip to MegaTokyo was long overdue, and so 
here we are. At this point, the events of Berserk could be considered kind of a 
lead-in to this, a MUCH larger and far more ambitious story. Currently there 
are at least seven chapters planned, each of which will be posted as they are 
completed. I hope you're enjoying the ride so far; please send any and all 
feedback to me at TPMG36E@prodigy.com (yes, the old address is defunct), or to 
the Anything-Goes Martial Arts! web page (http://pages.prodigy.com/NCHT29C). 
"Show me your support, and I can guarantee the Prime Minister's position..." 
    As always, special appreciation goes out to our other friends and co-
conspirators in Masterwork Productions, Mike Hunter and Andrew Fors (owner of 
the AGMA! page) for their attention and input, and for co-writing another BGC 
story simultaneously. It really helps keep the interest level up, on both 
sides. Keep at it guys! 
    I must also thank Innpchan, the master of Bubblegum fanfiction, for 
inspiring me with his exceptional work, and especially for answering my email! 
And last but certainly not least, Pip101, for being the first to give me any 
feedback on Berserk. (See, I care, I really do.) 
    Anyway, I promise to have Part Two out as soon as possible ... it's slow 
going, but I'm determined! 

    Corey Smith 
    03/31/1997