Neo Comet Swordsman Setsuya: Second Origin (part 8 of 18)

a Original Fiction fanfiction by Kaiser

Back to Part 7
Gathering 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Shougatsu Financial Group HQ, Munich, Neo-Germany

It was December 27th. 

The year was coming to an end. In just a short few days, it would be 
2082. Zephaniah intended that year to be the beginning of a whole new 
life for him. He had so many plans for not only himself but his company. 
The Four Sacred Swords, too. Not to mention her... But all those plans 
hinged on one event. The event that his Shougatsu Financial Group had 
been planning for almost five months. Ten Sekai Sentou Kyousou. It 
started in five days time. All the tournament invites had been handed 
out to those who needed to be there. Specifically the other three 
wielders of the Four Sacred Swords. Now it was just a matter of time 
before the fights began. But not only did Zephaniah expect this; he was 
longing for it. 

The Great Knight was not in his usual office. He was below it. In the 
Shougatsu Financial Group's main gym, on the recreation floor, to be 
exact. The powerful man had shed his normal suit and tie and dressed 
himself in nothing but slacks and a thin towel that was hanging around 
his waist like a belt. He had tied his long flowing black locks of hair 
into a ponytail and flung it over his shoulder. For the past three 
months he had been doing some rather extensive sword training. Even more 
extensive then his years back home in England. But it was no ordinary 
training. Because the sword was no ordinary sword. Zephaniah slashed 
quickly through the air in one handed-vertical strike, with the Sacred 
Sword that had been excavated from the Ice of the Arctic. The Great 
Shadow Edge. With brilliant effort, Zephaniah swung that massive 
Zweihander-type sword with a kind of skill that took years for normal 
men to accomplish. His progress had stunned even himself. Just three 
months earlier he could barely handle this magnificent weapon, that had 
the magical power to cause tremors, earthquakes and move earth. Now he 
was wielding it like nothing at all, like the Shadow Edge was simply an 
extension of his own arm. Such was the talent of the Great Knight. His 
self-refined Regal Blade style would demand no less. After a three hour 
long session of practice with the Shadow Edge, Zephaniah lowered the 
sword to the matter floor of the gym. Sweat glistened off his tired 
muscular body. And he took deep breaths to regain some of his lost 
energy. This wasn't easy, but it was necessary. 

From the shadows of the empty gym, behind all the 21st Century, Pre 
Comet workout machinery and apparatus, called a voice, "...So. When you 
said that you would participate in the tournament you were telling the 
truth, eh?"

Zephaniah lowered his eyes. "Nagare. What do you want now?"

"Well now, that's no way to greet me," That being said, Nagare stepped 
from the darkness into clear view. Zephaniah didn't bother to turn 
around to look at him. But from the smile of Nagare's face; it didn't 
seem to matter all that much to him, "You should let those more than 
numerous subordinates do the work for you. Mastery of Shadow Edge will 
take longer than you have to prepare for the tournament."

Zephaniah scowled. "Don't underestimate me, old man. This is not the 
first sword I have pushed myself to master and it will not be the last. 
My Regal Blade style can easily cope with this blade. I have already 
unlocked the vast powers of its magic."

Nagare stopped just behind Zephaniah. "Are you sure of that? All 
throughout the history of this world... people have sought to control 
great power. And though they feel they have this control... they end up 
decaying. Will you fall to the same path? Will you fail?"

"I can't afford to fail," The Great Knight replied, "...my Ten Sekai 
Sentou Kyousou is soon approaching. Everything I have worked for will be 
achieved there. The invites have been extended to the three other 
wielders of the swords and also to my enemies. Even the likes of the 
legendary Mazda Family have installed themselves inside this tournament. 
I now set myself on the idea that everything must go to plan. I must 
seize those swords. Not only will they fuel the lusts of those fools on 
the council, who grow fat and corrupt with each passing day, they will 
bring about the revival. Their infinite magics will provide new life to 
the world. If harnessed in the right way."

"You don't fool me," Nagare said, knowingly, "You've more contempt for 
this world than you do a will to nurture it."

Zephaniah's deep red eyes thinned out. "Again you misunderstand. I've no 
desire to rejuvenate the world. Not this one at least. I refer to the 
world that I will build out of the ruins of this one. I will bring the 
very destruction of Hell itself onto this scarred world and build a new 
civilization in my own image. Just as God purified the world with the 
Great Flood, I will purify the world with the Four Sacred Swords."

"And the fruits of the Second Origin Project." Nagare offered. 

"So..." Zephaniah finally turned around to watch the older man, "You 
seem to know much of my plans, Nagare Utsume."

"Not much," Not a very convincing reply, but, "I do know however that 
you intend more for the Deities than just a mobile army. Your research 
into the Deity-Creation Process is done specifically for your own 
personal needs. To bring back the woman."

A cold anger passed through the Great Knight. "You know nothing of 
Diana..."

"Lost love is never really hard to detect, Zephaniah."

But he didn't take that with welcoming pause. Zephaniah pulled up the 
Shadow Edge swiftly and aimed its tip right at Nagare. "I warn you, old 
man. Don't tempt my wrath by speaking ill of my intentions. You've 
helped me deal with the zealousness of the board and helped me to find 
the Shadow Edge. But aside from that... I have no need for you. So 
unless you wish to be the first to fall to the Shadow Edge... I suggest 
you keep your nose out of business that does not concern you. Are we 
clear?"

Nagare smiled, sneakily. "Crystal."

Still, Zephaniah didn't find much comfort in that. The Englishman turned 
away from the older man and went back to training. But his mind did not 
leave Nagare. There was something about that old man that the Knight 
just couldn't trust...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

New Year's Day (2082), South Beach, Island of Creation 

"So... this is the Island of Creation..."

An eager Setsuya grinned as he jumped off the withered wooden deck of 
the transport ship and jumped down to the light golden sand below. He 
didn't even bother to wait for the lowering of board like the others 
would have done. Setsuya crashed into the sand and rolled forwards; 
rising from the landing. Some of the giant-like sailors up on deck gave 
him disparaging glances. Others smiled at him. They were somewhat amused 
at the naïve enthusiasm of this young Japanese boy. After all, this was 
no ordinary island they had docked at. 

This was the Island of Creation. 

Located at about thirteen to fourteen miles off the coast of France, 
hovering in the Atlantic Ocean, this place was called the Island of 
Creation. It was a land mass of about one & three-quarters of a mile 
wide and two miles long. A place full of lush vegetation, jungles, 
greenery and lakes. It had once been a section of Spain, but had broken 
off from the mainland (during the landing of the Genesis Comet) and 
floated upward to bring it closer to Neo-France. There had been disputes 
between Neo-Spain and Neo-France as to who could claim ownership of the 
island. In the end it was bought by the Shougatsu Financial Group for a 
tidy sum of money. To most people in the world it was told to be a 
private resort for workers in the Shougatsu Financial Group. Which made 
sense considering the fact that it was off the mainland and free from 
the jurisdiction of a Safe Zone. Which ultimately meant the people 
living or vacationing there were free to do as they wished with no 
restrictions by law. It also held darker secrets that few wished to 
utter. Mostly because doing so would end horribly for them. There was an 
aura about the place that people could feel. An uneasy aura. As if the 
Island of Creation had direct ties to the fate of the world.

Setsuya stood up from the sand he had rolled into, dusted himself off, 
and got serious. His expression changed from humoured to confident and 
stern. At the end of the day, he was not here to enjoy himself. He was 
here for one reason and one reason only. That was Lin-Lin. It had been a 
few months since she had been captured by the Shougatsu. Before Setsuya 
left China, a letter was sent to the village itself. It said that if 
they wanted the girl back they would have to bring the Fire Cutter to 
the Island of Creation. A tournament invite had also been sent. Setsuya 
automatically saw it as a challenge. He and Chen Hu had already spoken 
about it. It was decided that Setsuya should enter the tournament and 
try to win back Lin-Lin without giving the Fire Cutter to them. Setsuya 
really didn't give a damn about the Fire Cutter, even if his Father had 
been killed to procure it, all he was concerned with was Lin-Lin. He had 
to get her back. And considering the technology that the Shougatsu 
Financial Group had at their disposal, the Fire Cutter was the only ace 
that the Japanese lad had left to play.

Setsuya's chocolate brown eyes looked downwards to the sword strapped at 
his waist. It was the Fire Cutter. The katana-like blade was sheathed, 
the butt of the sword poking into the air. This was the weapon that 
Lin-Lin had been captured for. But if he played his cards right, Setsuya 
would be able to use this sword to free Lin-Lin and maybe even come out 
of all this alive. The young man looked from the sword to the sky (by 
which time all the others who had come with him on the ship for the 
tournament were getting off too) and looked up at the inland. From this 
point on the sandy beach rolled into the vastness of the jungles and 
trees. A path had been cut through that surrounding forest, towards the 
very innards of the island. There was a rising of land at the centre of 
the land. Setsuya suspected that it was an artificial mountain rise; 
created to support the large complex that had been mounted on top of it. 
A fairly industrial looking complex, something you would not have 
expected to see in this technologically-weakened world. But Setsuya 
predicted nothing less. After seeing them in action at Neo-China, there 
was nothing he could be surprised with. When some of the other fighters 
began walking towards the jungle pathway (that obviously led to the 
complex they were staying at during the competition) Setsuya decided to 
follow them. The youth dusted off his dark brown boots, straightened out 
his leather jacket and strode forward, slinging his backpack even 
further over his shoulder. Then he marched forward over the sand to the 
jungle pathway. 

There would have been no problem until he felt something nudge him. The 
Japanese man stumbled forwards as something knocked into his back leg. 
It was a rather large suitcase. Strapped to the hand of a young girl. 
Setsuya scowled and took a look at her. She couldn't have been more than 
seventeen or eighteen. Blonde, well-dressed for the weather (in a 
seasonal black tank top and equally dark black baggy slacks). Over her 
back was a taped sword, lengthy, with another circular & taped object 
strapped to the weapon. Setsuya suspected that it was a shield. But what 
was a young girl like that doing on the Island of Creation? Surely such 
a petite female westerner would have not be participating in something 
as dangerous as Ten Sekai Sentou Kyousou...?

The girl, who was probably English, scowled back at Setsuya. "Would you 
please watch where you're going? What is it with you easterners? You'd 
all sooner slit your Mother's throats than gain even the slightest sense 
of dignity or manners."

"What did you say?" Setsuya barked, "Look kid, I am in no mood for that. 
And if you weren't so stuck up you might realize that you were the one 
who banged into me!"

The blonde girl narrowed her eyes at the taller Setsuya, showing no 
fear. "Don't be absurd! If you had been watching where you were going 
instead of jumping off the ship like a lunatic then maybe you would have 
been able to see me coming by! How dare you to speak to me like I'm in 
the wrong? Do you have any idea who I am? I am Ingrid Highland! I am one 
of the best students to have ever trained under the very Master of 
English swordplay himself, Roundsman."

Setsuya crossed his arms looking down on the girl. "Well I am Setsuya 
Seisuji. Trained by the late master of the Yuuga School of Neo-Japan."

Ingrid snorted. "Do I look like I care? You should just ship out and go 
home, junior. This is no place for the unskilled. I intend to win this 
tournament and prove that I am the greatest female swordfighter the 
world has ever known."

"...Junior?!" Setsuya repeated, his voice angered, "Did you just call me 
'junior'? Listen here you mouthy little-"

It was then that Setsuya stopped himself. And took a deep look at this 
girl. She reminded him of someone. Who was it? Setsuya tried to figure 
it out, until something else flashed in mind. What the girl had said her 
name was. Ingrid Highland. And she was English, too. If Setsuya's 
suspicions were right, then... she was...

Setsuya rolled his eyes back with a sigh. "...Please don't tell me that 
you're... Aarin's little sister?  Oh man..."

Ingrid suddenly grew curious about this man. "...You know Aarin? Exactly 
how do you know about my Brother?"

"We trained together in Japan," Setsuya said. Now he began to realize 
just how far the influence of the Shougatsu stretched. Aarin had 
probably been invited to the tournament as well, "But I haven't seen him 
for a couple months. After the funeral of our Master, we went our 
separate ways. He said that he was going to Neo-Korea after we spoke."

Ingrid scratched her temple with her free hand. "Were you asleep for the 
whole boat ride after we all boarded in La Rochelle? Aarin's here. You 
know it's always been said that you Japanese were spacey but now I can 
see that it rings true to at least one of you people."

Setsuya ignored the xenophobia of Ingrid to ask one more question. "Well 
then if Aarin is here to compete in the tournament then where the hell 
is he?"

"...He's standing right behind you."

A deeper voice called out behind the two fighters. Both Setsuya and 
Ingrid turned around and looked behind them to see the owner of the 
voice himself, Aarin Highland. The young and typically stoic Englishman 
stood in front of the beached ship. He was swathed with that long 
flowing grey cloak, but the hood had been pulled down to reveal his 
face. That bored-with-the-world, melancholic expression was a sight for 
sore eyes. 

Setsuya smiled cheerfully. At least he wouldn't feel alone here. "Aarin! 
You're here too? I can't believe it!"

"Believe it," Ingrid answered for him, walking ahead, "And it will be me 
and Aarin going against each other in the finals so don't bother getting 
your hopes up about fighting either one of us. I'm sure some weaker 
fighter who works at your own speed will knock you out of the tournament 
before you can face either of us."

Despite his good cheer, Setsuya grit his teeth at Ingrid as she walked 
away with some of the other tournament finalists. He couldn't stand that 
girl. But while Setsuya stared vile, scathing daggers at Ingrid, Aarin 
walked up to the Japanese swordsman and rested a single hand upon his 
friend's shoulder.

"It's good to see you again," Aarin spoke, quietly, "But this time we 
won't be meeting as friends. Since you've come here, I assume that 
you're here to compete. As am I."

Setsuya looked ahead at Aarin, this time becoming serious. "Well, to be 
truthful, it's not the only reason. But I can't explain much here. We'll 
have to wait until later. Then I'll tell you everything."

Aarin nodded. "Okay."

"By the way..." The two fighters the followed the others towards the 
jungle, "What is up with that sister of yours? No offence, but she's a 
little bit mouthy, don't you think?"

Unusual as it was for him, Aarin smiled at that. "She is quite a 
handful. But she will grow on you. Eventually."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Kakato-Jiki Apartment Building, Kuji, Neo-Japan

"I can't believe I'll be back home soon."

The three months since Julia's reuniting with Simon when by like a 
flash. Days came and went as the three travellers made there way from 
the busy city of Nagoya to a sleepy little fishing village to the north. 
A town called Kuji. It was a small town, large enough to be noticed but 
not large enough to make an impact on any kind of front. It was the sort 
of town people passed through on their way to the northerly island of 
Hokkaido for a brief few days. Thus Ayame considered it the perfect 
place to hide out until Simon and Julia were safe enough to sail back to 
Scotland. It took about two weeks to reach Kuji. The rest of the time 
was spent in the town itself. To blend in better, Simon and Julia both 
got jobs. Simon worked at a grocery on the edge of town, while Julia got 
a job at a flower shop a little closer to the two bedroom apartment they 
had rented for their stay. Ayame didn't bother to work like the others. 
She had her money from the rescuing job to live off. She spent her time 
watching over Julia as she worked at her flower shop, keeping her safe 
from any form of attack that the Shougatsu's cronies might launch 
against her. There were times when Ayame was recognized by people and 
asked to do jobs for them that the Guardian Line wouldn't be able to 
handle. But for Julia's sake, Ayame reluctantly turned down all these 
job offers. She wouldn't really be comfortable working two jobs at the 
same time. Especially since protecting Julia had become less an effort 
and more a desire. 

In the three months and four days that Ayame and Julia had known each 
other, they had been growing closer. Simon hadn't quite realize the 
depth of this closeness, but he did notice the lingering signs. Often 
Julia would come home from work with sets of flowers to decorate their 
shared apartment. But always spared one for Ayame. Whether it was to be 
attached to the lapel of her kimono/over-coat hybrid or dropped in a 
small vase in Ayame's room. And the Dark Katana had been making an 
effort too. She would often drop of  Julia at work as well as pick her 
up, plus, they ate lunch together at least four times a week. That was 
their life for those short three months. And by the time January had 
rolled around, those months were over. It was decided between Simon and 
Ayame that the time to leave was now. They had not been attacked once 
since that incident with Ras es-Shamrah, and there had been no signs 
that they were being watched. For the past three months all had been 
fine. Thusly Simon made the arraignments for the sail to Scotland. A 
ship would arrive at Kuji Port tomorrow. It was bound for the Safe-Zone 
rejecting nation of Scotland. And so Julia had made an effort to pack 
her things. She didn't have much luggage; after all she had only been in 
Neo-Japan for a year and a month, and for most of that time, she was a 
prisoner. But it still gave her a weird feeling of nostalgia when she 
began packing up her few items. By nightfall she had one full, packed 
suitcase at the side of her bed. A room she shared with Ayame. 

The Scottish girl laid across her bed, hands locked together and beneath 
her head. Ayame sat across from her on one of the small chairs nudged up 
to the window and the table beneath it. She was quite quiet today, not 
like Ayame at all. 

Ayame gave a brief look over at the beautiful foreigner. "...Yeah. It's 
hard to believe."

Of course, such a reply, one that lacked Ayame's normally overpowering 
and overflowing stream of energy, did nothing to assure Julia. The young 
brown-haired woman leaned up and took a deeper look at Ayame. Though 
they had only known each other for a short while, Julia could tell when 
something was bothering the younger woman.

"Ayame?" Julia spoke softly, "What is it? What's wrong?"

And the Dark Katana cast back a hesitating glare. How could she say 
anything? About what she felt? Julia was leaving tomorrow. If she said 
something about it now, it would complicate everything and put more 
stress on Julia. And that was not what Ayame wanted. She had been 
through enough to last anyone else a lifetime. From now on, Julia needed 
just the thing that she deserved. Happiness. And of course, the Dark 
Katana didn't wanna screw that happiness up with her dumb old feelings. 

So she did her best to keep herself under control. "...Everything's 
fine, I guess. I suppose I'll just miss you and Simon after tomorrow. 
Things have gone by so quickly that it's hard to see it, but, we've been 
through a lot together. This'll definitely go down as one of the more 
lengthy and memorable missions in my life."

Though it warmed her heart to think that Ayame would look at their 
separation with regrets, she avoided that issue and addressed a 
different one. "...Why do you do what you do?"

Ayame blinked. "Huh?"

"These 'missions' that you go on," Julia answered, "I really appreciate 
what you did for me... but why would you take such a risk? Why would you 
commit yourself to a job that can get you killed?"

"Where did this come from?" The Neo-Japanese girl asked. 

"I've always wondered," Said Julia, quietly, "I suppose I just never 
thought to ask you."

Well, Ayame could accept that. "...I guess... it started when I was a 
kid. I lived with my Mom and Dad back in Nagoya. Life was really calm 
then. The world just passed me by. Even though there was a lot of 
suffering going on around us at that time, my parents kept me from 
feeling any of it. Then I hit my eighth birthday. My folks left to go to 
Osaka on business. To this day I still don't know what 'business' meant. 
But... regardless, my parents got caught up in a riot that most people 
call the 'Osaka Nightmare'. They both died in it."

Julia's eyes went wide. "Oh, Ayame, I'm so sorry..."

"Forget about it," Ayame said, waving her off, "that happened a long 
time ago. But at the time I was shocked. There's nothing more tragic 
than having to be told that your parents were killed. And that one event 
pretty much made me an orphan. I was staying with my Uncle in Nagoya at 
that time, but he and I never really got along so I ran away as soon as 
I turned ten. Then I spent the next eight years travelling all over 
Neo-Japan. I did lots of stuff, but I mostly learned to fight with a 
sword. Then I learned a little martial arts and mixed it all together in 
a personalized art I like to call, Nakagawa-style Kick-Fencing. Then 
three years ago, when I was fifteen, some people from the Guardian Line 
heard about my skills. I would have joined them but they were so shady 
and untrustworthy that I decided to do what they did, but independently. 
If you compare the Guardian Line to the police, then you could think of 
me as a private eye. A freelancer. That's how I got into this business. 
And the reason I keep doing it? I guess because I'm good at it. I've 
been fighting to survive for most of my life. In my own twisted logic, 
it makes sense to do so and get paid for it."

Julia's heart-strong emerald eyes thinned out. "But that's so unsafe. 
When I leave... are you actually going to go back to that sort of 
dangerous lifestyle?"

"Yeah." Ayame said, shrugging. 

"I wish you wouldn't... I wouldn't like to think that... if I leave you 
behind... you'll be facing so much danger all on your own..."

And Ayame couldn't deny the fact that Julia's concern for her was 
flattering. "Hey girl, it's the way I've lived for years. And I've got a 
whole lifetime of it ahead of me, if I'm one of the lucky ones. You 
shouldn't let it bother you, Julia."

"But it does..." Julia mouthed, whispering to herself, "...It does..."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Grand Luncheon Hall, Neuschwanstein Castle, Island of Creation

The innards of the large complex were even larger than they looked from 
the outside. Which was a little surprising. Ever more was the fact that 
this place they were staying in was a remade version of an old German 
Castle. Though the surrounding walls of the complex were made of tough 
steel; the building that had been centred in on the artificial mountain 
of the Island of Creation was a re-make of a Germanic Castle that had 
once been called Neuschwanstein. It had been destroyed through the 
damage done by the Genesis Comet's shockwaves and nothing was left of it 
but piles of stone and wood. But it had obviously been remade for this 
place. At the leisure of the Shougatsu Financial Group. For a powerhouse 
that had become noticeable in only the last year or so, these people had 
influences and tastes that reached very far. It made Setsuya even more 
curious as to what their plans were. You didn't have to be a genius to 
know they were up to no good. 

Once the ship transporting all tournament entries to the island had 
docked, all people on it had left for the complex at the centre of the 
island. The fighters were all taken by the aid of a worker to the 
Castle. The island was a lot more peaceful than it looked. The sunny, 
sandy beaches and verdant tropical forests held a sort of tranquil 
threat to them. But all those who worked for the company were rather... 
polite. Far less than what they had been with the attack on Lin-Lin's 
village. Setsuya took notes of all the workers around him as he and the 
others were shown around the Castle and told where they would be 
staying. It was a big place. Full of gyms, training rooms, libraries, 
study halls, lounging rooms, spacey living quarters and an indoor pool. 
It seemed like the Shougatsu Financial Group wanted its tournament 
fighters to enjoy themselves before they beat the living hell out of 
each other. Ingrid claimed that such accommodation was 'just about 
suitable' for her and her needs. Setsuya felt like he was in the lap of 
luxury. Not that he could bring himself to enjoy it. Despite the 
beautiful echoing marble halls and hallways, Setsuya knew that Lin-Lin 
was here somewhere. Not as a participant of the tournament or even as 
visitor. But as a prisoner. That was the one thing that kept the 
Japanese man from enjoying any of this. 

Once everyone had been shown to their rooms, an announcement was given 
that all who had come today were to meet at a place called the Grand 
Luncheon Hall. Basically it was the hall at which everyone would eat 
their meals. Breakfast, Lunch, Supper, and the like. The company of 
Setsuya, Aarin and Ingrid went together (though Setsuya and Ingrid could 
barely be around each other without arguing) went down to the Luncheon 
Hall. It was in one of the higher levels of the Castle, but right below 
the living quarters. All levels below that section were banned to those 
who were not part of Shougatsu Company personnel. A rule that Setsuya 
took note of but did nothing about. For now at least. Once the three 
made it to the Luncheon Hall, they were more than surprised to see the 
huge banquet that was left for them there. Four tables stacked to their 
limits with all kinds of food and drink from across all four corners of 
the world. English, Japanese, Chinese, French, German, Italian, Russian, 
South American. Food from all over the world had been made for the 
tournament entries. Something to keep them well fed for the fights that 
would begin tomorrow. On the second day of the new year. 

Setsuya was actually hungry, so was pretty happy to see that whole set 
up. Even if it was provided by the Company that was fast becoming his 
mortal enemy. For all he knew it was laced with poison or something. But 
the idea really didn't occur to him. The three sword fighters took seats 
at one side of a table and began to sample the meals that had been 
spread out for them. Setsuya dug in and made no bones about it. Aarin 
and Ingrid both did the same. 

Setsuya was munching on the cooked flesh of chicken leg by the time the 
other fighters had gotten here and settled down. "Hmm... not bad. Not 
bad at all. I may not like these guys but at least they cook well."

Ingrid (who just happened to be sitting beside Setsuya) frowned at his 
unrefined eating mannerisms. "My word. You eat like a pig. Didn't your 
Master teach you anything about good etiquette while you're in the 
presence of others?"

"Nope," Said the Yuuga-Fighter, "What about you? Did your Master teach 
you anything about being a loudmouthed, annoying and obnoxious little 
brat? 'Cause if he did, he really broke the mould when he came up with 
you." 

Ingrid slapped her hand to the table in anger. "What did you just say!?"

"Act your age, both of you." Aarin chided, sipping some brandy. "If you 
must squabble then save it for the tournament tomorrow." 

Both Setsuya and Ingrid were prepared to counter that, but silenced 
themselves. On the far side of the Luncheon Hall was a large stage. 
About a metre's distance from the ground and made of solid pine wood. 
There were velvet curtains behind it. Attentions of the fighters who 
were eating all turned to the stage. Something was about to happen. And 
something did. From the side of the room, from an open door to the left 
wing, came a man. A solitary man. Strident and cool, tall and 
confidently-looking. From his stern face, long raven black hair and dark 
red eyes. It all reflected his seemingly serious nature. Neither Setsuya 
nor Ingrid paid any real attention to him; but Aarin was more than 
curious about this stranger. He was dressed in nothing more than a light 
grey suit, like an official, but Aarin knew just by looking at this man 
that he was significant. This stranger stepped up onto the stage and 
looked over at all the tournament entries who had been summoned and 
brought here to the Island of Creation. 

And, following this, he spoke. "Welcome all. Welcome to Ten Sekai Sentou 
Kyousou. My name is Zephaniah. I am the C. E. O of the Shougatsu 
Financial Group. The company that brings this tournament to you. Amongst 
you are some of the best fighters in the world. And tomorrow we will 
discover which of you fall into that category. You will shed blood, 
tears, sweat and your own fears as you step out into the Grand Arena of 
Combat and challenge one and other to mortal battle. Those who are weak 
will fall to the wayside. Only the strongest will proceed to the last 
fight. And the winner will have proven themselves worthy. Not only will 
they gain honour, glory, and a prize money of over 800,000 credits, you 
will also receive the pleasure of facing me in a bonus match. If you 
feel yourself to be confident enough..."

Aarin narrowed his smooth sky blue eyes. "That man is a fighter... I 
thought so..."

"Do you think he's gonna be a problem?" Setsuya questioned. 

"I'm..." All Aarin could really do was wonder, "...not sure."

And while they spoke to themselves, Zephaniah continued. "So go out into 
the light of spectacle and fight to the best of your ability. For the 
spirit of Ten Sekai Sentou Kyousou is the very reflection of life in 
this ruined world. Only the strong will survive."

Onwards to Part 9


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