The giant dark-skinned man shot through the clouds and straight towards the atmosphere. Being unconscious at the moment was probably a small blessing in disguise as the air thinned to impossible measures. The demon in his head continued to bang against his skull, attempting everything she could to get his attention. Michino remained still and knocked out from the backlash of trying to control his power. Yet as his body finally arched through air, reaching the zenith of his ascension, his purple irises finally opened up to see the majesty of the land spread out before him. From his new vantage point, for all of about three seconds, the soldier witnessed the beauty of their planet like no one else had before…and then began to fall.
His mind rushed into a panic as he tried to focus on anything, but the thin oxygen, freezing temperature, and speeds made it impossible to control his breathing or demonic blood to give him even the slightest advantage to his predicament. Owari was screaming something, but the lack of air made his thoughts sluggish and he could feel the rate of which he was dropping pick up. So much so that the speed was starting to cause a friction in the air around him, little flames of death exploding here and there on his clothing. His mind raced back over his life right then, suddenly, and his subconscious just knew that this was it. There was no legitimate way he was going to survive falling from this height without waking up some bullshit power; it was then he felt a jolt of fury in the back of his head.
“Don’t you dare give up that body before I’ve had a chance to own it, prick! Think, dammit, your the smart one! Come up with the idea and I’ll control the demon blood! Just like we always do, Michino!”
The screams of his sibling brought some grim hope that there was something he could do. Closing his eyes he spread his arms and legs out, and amazingly, it slowed his descent a little, though the force of impact of doing so nearly broke all three limbs. He tightened his muscles to keep them straight while, eyelids still closed against the rushing air, he tried to think of anything.
His powers could increase his own body’s natural abilities. Where a man could, even with a firm mastery over chakra, lift a boulder - Michino could create deep ravines with a stomp. His power was legendary in Suna, along with the other monsters of his generation and those before, but the edge he had on them was survivability. The only people who had bared the fangs of their desert like he had were Takahashi Sousuke and Toraono Kuro, and both of them had the scars to show for it. Yet that knack of living through the impossible wasn’t just due to the demonic blood that flowed through his veins, it was also granted by a high intellect. Yet as the mountains and desert rose up to meet him, the poor youth couldn’t think of a single thing that could possibly slow him down enough to survive impact. The only thing that came to mind was hitting something hard enough to negate some of the force he was barreling into his country with.
“Better than nothing,” he mumbled to himself as he tried to correct his stance in the air.
Owari asked if she could help, but he declined. Even with her added control, the method he was using needed a firm mastery over a certain martial art his sister always had some difficulty using. With the modicum control of demon blood he had, plus the absolute mastery of the Tora-no-Ken, Michino measured that he should have enough strength to punch a wave of air against the speed he was pushing currently to break some of his fall. The problem? Finding something he could punch that wasn’t a damn mountain. The mountains that rushed by below him were everywhere, and as his descent lowered to a level where he could finally feel some warmth, despite the night. Finally he saw his destination. It was a small cave sticking out of about a 120 yards of pure golden grain that would at least keep him from becoming sheer paste when he punched. The Toraono drew all of his training and discipline into a single thought. He corrected his stance in the sky as best he could, drew his fist back, and began to shout in fury and fear as he channeled chakra and Youkai energy into his fist to slam against the small cave.
The roar of the falling martial artist brought something out of the craggy hole. A young blond woman with pointy ears who looked up to the sky at the falling giant with both perplexity and morbid curiosity. With a single flick of her wrist a giant hand crafted from the desert around her cave launched up. Its movement was so fast, the martial artist didn’t have time to register what was happening before he was crashing through the golden grains. Then another, and another, slapping him with the power of earth at least eight times before his decent had been slowed to a full stop. The last hand became mud and then solidified into a brick like material, one half of his body sticking out of either side of the palm with his arms trapped at his sides. Michino, even if he wasn’t exhausted from battle and surviving re-entry, knew he was stuck good. It wasn’t just the thick rock that held him, it was the scent of sheer power that the girl gave off. If Kasen was comparable to the ocean, this girl was akin to facing the entire desert, heat, monsters, and mountains; all at once. The soldier immediately knew he was in a far worst situation now than he had been launched out of.
“Out of the fire and into hell, aye Owari?” the giant mumbled to the demon in his head.
“Who Owari?” the girl suddenly quipped. The trapped soldier’s eyes widened as he stared in disbelief. Carefully he took her features in better in the attempt to comprehend what his opponent was. She was small and lean, but not untrained. The exposed flesh from her worn leather jerkin revealed muscles and scars that Michino immediately recognized as survivalist. This girl had possibly managed to spend her entire life here in the desert, away from civilization of any kind. Yet, oddly, there was a familiar scent mixed in with the overwhelming power that was giving Michino the oddest sense of deja vu. It was when their eyes met that he finally recognized why. The Toraono choked back a cry of surprise as he stared at the same heterochromia his brother had; green right, blue left. Then directly beyond that were the same elongated ears that all Ryuus had; even himself.
“Dude, is this our cousin?” the demoness chirped in Michino’s head.
“WHO. OWARI.” the female before them suddenly demanded. The scent of raw power thickened into the air until it began to choke him. The dual-colored eyes were vibrant jewels full of deadly intent. The raised hand turned and curled into a half fist, causing the stone grasping the soldier to tightened around his waist. He was absolutely certain of how quickly the girl could simply cut him in half right now.
“Owari is my sister, she lives in my head,” Michino carefully responded as he lifted an index finger to point at his skull, though it was behind the wall and out of direct sight.
“Oh no lie? Neat!” his capture responded, all hints of menace gone at the drop of a hat, “She talk out of head?
“Sometimes, but not often. She’s kind of a bitch.”
The sudden jab caused laughter to roar out of the strange girl’s’ lungs as she released the technique holding Michino to grip her sides. The stone that absolutely kept a Toraono demonkin in check, turned back into sand and dropped him down into the pile beneath. The moment he was free, the second his foot touched the sand, the soldier focused a massive amount of chakra into the ground to speed him away from the girl. She was dangerous, far more dangerous than what he or Suna needed right now. The soldier needed to get out of here, hide his tracks, and then figure out where he landed and how far away from home he was. The girl had stopped laughing and looked genuinely disappointed now.
The chakra exploded from his feet into a force that allowed him to move at impossible speeds. A deep breath, a single release, and another began to pump his demonic heritage through his blood and chakra that formed his left leg and covered his right in the cursed purple flame. Flexing his core muscles, the warrior raised his lower half to flip him over and turn away so that he could hit the ground with more control, and then run. The moment his fiery purple toes touched the grains he felt something hit his side. It was way stronger than he would of guessed anything capable of hitting him that fast, and for a moment he wondered how much he had underestimated the girl behind him. That was until he turned his eyes down to see his powerful attacker in the form of an older woman. Her hair was long, wild, snow white, and her body looked battered, dehydrated…worn. Yet the fist breaking three of his ribs on his left told him that she too was nothing to futz with.
Blood exploded into his mouth, and he turned to spray it at the woman’s face. She stopped her attack and leaped away in reflex before clapping her hands together. Michino’s eyes widened to watch as the woman began to roll through hand seals. He turned to look at the younger female, then back to the older. A familiar scent, super powerful, looks like Tama, had someone who was from the village raising her…
“By the kami. You’re Takahashi Okibi.”
The older woman stopped her hand movements. Her pink irises stared daggers into Michino’s purple, but he could tell she was hesitant now. He blinked and the powerful youth was
next to her guardian, a hand on her shoulder and sheer curiosity sparkling in those dual-colored eyes. Okibi was two seals out away from using the technique she had on every other intruder...but she released the pent of chakra with a wave of her hand. A wave of cloudy crystals erupted from the grains of sand and broke into a bit of the mountains that surrounded them. Carefully the soldier began to try and stand, the pain of three bones stabbing his left lung raising another fit of blood to spill across the sand, but he still managed it. Though the effort proved to be sort of pointless as the unbloodied dunes lifted up under him to form a chair of sorts. It carried him across the pool of sand and towards the cave where the other two females walked in.
The cave sunk deep into the earth. About six feet from the entrance the floor suddenly began to dip down. At first the entrance, which seemed rather small, quickly grew in size the further down they walked. The chair of sand followed the women in the strange circular tunnel that twisted ever downwards. It didn’t take long for Michino to suddenly realize that they were smack-middle in sandworm country. The tunnels showed all the signs of an active travel, as he had read in text books, but the two women before him brazenly walked in the most dangerous tunnels the Wind Country had to offer. After a moments walk they stopped suddenly. The youth reached down and touched the ground with an index finger, as if poking it, and a circular entrance appeared immediately. It was wide enough to swallow them all, and they all three fell at least six more feet before landing. Okibi and her daughter landed gracefully, Michino in a pile of broken sand chair. Cushioned though the fall was, he felt the ribs dig a little deeper, but repressed the cry he wanted to scream.
The youth looked back with some annoyance and lifted the sand once more to follow them, this time just simply engulfing most of Michino and floating him down a long hall. Fighting through his pain the soldier studied the walls and realized that these were not made by worm, but by man, and a very long time ago. They were a silver marble and carved by something far more talented than most of what mankind had. Despite how old they had to be, they bore little signs of true aging aside from the collected dust. The warm golden light of a fire washed over him as he entered what appeared to be a buried amphitheater.
Wooden benches with rotted cushions stretched out far in a circular formation. At the center was a broken stage/arena where a large fire roared. The weariness of battle and his injuries finally broke through to his head the moment the warmth washed over him. The moment the sand rested near the flames and Okibi began to drag him away, the darkness of unconsciousness smacked him down.
Michino had no idea how long he’d been out. When finally light decided to slip through his eyelids, all he knew was that he hurt. The presence of his sister was quite absent, no doubt having given up on drawing him awake and returned to her own realm. His entire body screamed at him as he slowly pushed himself up on the little cot that supported his massive frame by some witchcraft. A sudden stab of pain hit his entire left side and radiated out. Michino opened his mouth to scream out only to have a small hand firmly close his mouth. His purple eyes looked to see a very paranoid Okibi press on their awkward silence. After a few seconds the soldier realized why she insisted his silence as he felt the rumbling of a creature burrowing their way past the sunken amphitheater. He slowly moved his eyes to search for the girl through a pained blurry sight, and found her next to the entrance with her hands against a hastily made barrier. She pushed waves of invisible energy to guide the worms around the ancient construct. After what felt like an eternity, the sounds faded and the scent of danger ebbed. Okibi released Michino and helped him sit up properly before moving her hands down to his left side. After a few hand seals a green light surfaced on her skin. Pressing the light against Michino, it sank into his side and began to pull the broken ribs out of his lungs before setting them back. It took all of his willpower to to simply black out, but couldn’t help but be a little impressed at her skill. It was easily high caliber, especially when compared to the talent they had right now, but still not the levels of his brother. Tama could deafen the pain of a wound before healing it, the woman tending him either didn’t know it or didn’t care; her features as she worked made it hard to tell through his blurry vision. After a second eternity, the green light faded and Michino gladly laid back on the impressively strong cot, covered in cold sweat and paler. Okibi stood up and walked over to a large clay pot before dipping a bowl into it to draw out a bit of water. Walking back to Michino she crouched down again and set the bowl beside his head. First she used the water to wash her hands and then, tearing a small strip of clothing, made a wet rag to put on Michino’s forehead as he recovered from the healing.
“Is Tami alive?” the woman said suddenly. Her hands gripped the worn out cloth on her legs.
“Yes,” the soldier responded with a hoarse voice, knowing it was his brother she asked after.
“H-how…and who…are you? His son?” The irony of the statement wasn’t lost on the Toraono. He closed his eyes and smiled weakly, and with a sigh finally admitted,
“Nope. His half-brother. It’s…a long story…”
Back in Sunagakure a war was still raging against it’s giant metal walls. Citizens behind the structure were huddled deep in bunkers for the rich, and in the Underground for the rest. Some were just fine with sipping brandy on the balcony of their mansions, expecting the end to come any second now. The display of lights and tremors of battle didn’t do anything to relief the sensation of impending doom, so why not a drink? Yet even further down than the sheltered poor was a mad scientist doing what he did best; which was whatever the hell he wanted.
Ryuu Tama could have joined the fight, even with his issues, but would have risked losing what little life he had to cling to. With the help of a certain other Underground head figure, however, the scientist did finally solve the problem of his cloning procedure. Ironically, it was because they weren’t human enough to stabilize. The Solar Hybrid’s pride had only grown since cheating death not once, but multiple times now. He had grand visions of constructing a body that could handle his full powers without the realization that he had long ago stepped beyond the realm of mortal limitations. His incredibly distracting friend had corrected his miscalculations and steered the cloning process back towards a human form. Tama, once again, was just out of reach of stepping into the realm of becoming a full blown Ancient, a creature like his mentor; instead he was stepping back into a mortal shell. According to the clone’s specs, he wouldn’t have the awe-inspiring control over lightning and wind as he nearly had at his peak, but, it would allow him to focus using one of those powers. The Solar Court’s power wasn’t lost to him, just sort of condensed and under heavy lock and key. The bonus of accepting a human form? Breaking free of his time curse, but retaining the control of it he had learned from this weird period of his life. The Universe may literally be after the mad scientist’s soul, but at least now he had an edge to fight back with.
The stone sex dungeon/lab had been clear of everything except a giant circle filled with…all manner of spellcraft. Runes from Ancient times, powerful kanji from the Sunan military, and even his own special markings that called on power not available to anyone who couldn’t master Time. In the center of the magic circle was a naked body that looked like he should look. It looked like a male in their early forties, long blond hair with silver highlights, perfectly toned muscles and trained reflexes already tempered into the nervous system. All Tama had to do was activate the spell. The scientist took one more walk around the circle then stood at the Southern Point before clapping his hands together. Taking in a deep breath for concentration the fingers began to slip between each other, calling forth the power inside of his soul to slowly pour into his hands. Molding chakra was like kneading bread. Do it wrong, and all kinds of results could happen, but with practice and surgical precision, one could make chakra cut through mountains. The lab began to shake with the power Tama was drawing up…
The hours crept past. Michino couldn’t tell how many exactly had gone by, or how long he had been down here. They had all ate some dried meat and drank a small bit of water while retelling his brother’s background, at least of what he knew; and that was still quite a chronicle. By the time he finally got around to talking about his sibling’s most recent debacle with time itself, Okibi had a hand over her mouth in either shock or disgust; he still couldn’t really read her. The girl who seemed to have a very unnatural control over the earth was sitting near them now, knees to her chin, with a look of sheer curiosity that he could only compare to his brother’s. Michino could no longer keep the boiling question inside of him.
“So…is the kid an Dune Orphan?” They weren’t unnatural. Children who were born to parents in remote parts of the desert that had managed to find some way to survive the unsurvivable.
“No…” Okibi responded, her looks softening now with a wry smirk creeping up her right cheek, “She mine…and his. Though…I think now, she’s more the Desert’s. Since she manifest the Mark, Otami has been a little eyed,” the mother said, looking at her child with a worried glace, though the girl only smiled back.
“What happened,” the Toraono asked in a tone that implied he might be able to help. Okibi hesitated for just a moment before sighing with a defeated laugh.
“Sixteen years…at the very least, anyways, we’ve stayed away from and out of Sogay’s duties. I thought, I killed Tama, and so that was kinda awkward, too and…I was afraid..
“My anger with everything is mostly gone…but I didn’t start letting go of things until six years ago…” Okibi suddenly broke eye contact with Michino and looked up at the ceiling, a single tear rolling down the cheek not facing the stranger,
“We’ve did really, really well for staying away from the worst of Suna’s monsters. For awhile, we followed a wolf pack that protected us, then wandered alone after we were ousted by the new alpha for a little longer. We’ve lived though horrible storms, sandworms, I think a big lizard once, but…nothing could of prepared us for facing people again. Bandits…strong ones. Probably ex-soldiers. For all my training, and everything I killed, to survive…I only managed to kill one. They,” her voice cracked. Tears were flowing down both cheeks freely now. A large, but light, hand rested gently on Okibi’s shoulder. The mother shuddered and cringed from the large man’s touch, but when she looked up to see his eyes, she softened a little. Michino, too, was crying, already imagining the horrors the men who raided the sands were capable of. He was telling her without a sound, she didn’t have to say anything, but instead the woman raised her arm up to drape it across the one resting on her shoulders,
“No…I’m not afraid of saying it. They tried, to rape me. Otami” her breath hitched, “Tried to stop them and someone stabbed her. Through the chest…and…then everything happened so fast.”
The rest of the story went as Michino imagined it did. The bloodlines he hailed from, Toraono and Ryuu, were both ‘power types’. Inside of them were DNA triggers that gave them bursts of power out of nowhere and from seemingly nothing. On the many times his own foot had touched Death’s doorstep, he found only ways to fight harder. Seeing one’s mother being attacked and then suffering a fatal wound…the bandits of course died instantly in a flurry of earth and blood. Though, apparently, the incident triggered a mark to appear on Otami’s body and with it came her control over the earth; lost from it was her awareness. According to Okibi, her daughter has been worriedly spacey since then. To the point that it had nearly killed the youth on multiple occasions. The girl’s control over the world, for as strong as it was, came at whimsy.
“May I see it?” Michino asked of the teenager sitting between them. With a shrug the girl stood up, turned away from him, and with a flick her of her wrists dropped the worn out garments to the floor.
“Whoa!” the large man shielded his eyes.
“Otami!”
“What?”
Once Okibi had fixed her daughter’s dress to at least cover her lower half again Michino, still flushed from being the cinnamon bun he was, scanned over the strange marks that covered the teen’s back. He saw the scar detailing exactly where the blow had struck her, and the angle as well. It should of severed her spine and pierced at least the edge of the heart. On the other side, it was the same. A scar was centered on her chest and blooming from the puckered flesh was black runes that scattered all over both front and back. The Toraono was only able to catch the pattern of the seal that had been placed on her, but did recognize a familiar Ancient Rune that Tama loved to use in his ninjutsu.
“So…she like Tama? She need to…eat people?”
“Gross.”
“No…and I think it was souls, but, I don’t think she’s like her father...at least in that regard. I believe it’s something else, but, only a handful of people could even tell us, and they all live in…Suna.”
“Yeah…I figured. I thinks is time I said hello to pops...if it helps Otami I’ll do anything. Even say high to that ridiculous bastard again…”
[Topic Entered/Left]
His mind rushed into a panic as he tried to focus on anything, but the thin oxygen, freezing temperature, and speeds made it impossible to control his breathing or demonic blood to give him even the slightest advantage to his predicament. Owari was screaming something, but the lack of air made his thoughts sluggish and he could feel the rate of which he was dropping pick up. So much so that the speed was starting to cause a friction in the air around him, little flames of death exploding here and there on his clothing. His mind raced back over his life right then, suddenly, and his subconscious just knew that this was it. There was no legitimate way he was going to survive falling from this height without waking up some bullshit power; it was then he felt a jolt of fury in the back of his head.
“Don’t you dare give up that body before I’ve had a chance to own it, prick! Think, dammit, your the smart one! Come up with the idea and I’ll control the demon blood! Just like we always do, Michino!”
The screams of his sibling brought some grim hope that there was something he could do. Closing his eyes he spread his arms and legs out, and amazingly, it slowed his descent a little, though the force of impact of doing so nearly broke all three limbs. He tightened his muscles to keep them straight while, eyelids still closed against the rushing air, he tried to think of anything.
His powers could increase his own body’s natural abilities. Where a man could, even with a firm mastery over chakra, lift a boulder - Michino could create deep ravines with a stomp. His power was legendary in Suna, along with the other monsters of his generation and those before, but the edge he had on them was survivability. The only people who had bared the fangs of their desert like he had were Takahashi Sousuke and Toraono Kuro, and both of them had the scars to show for it. Yet that knack of living through the impossible wasn’t just due to the demonic blood that flowed through his veins, it was also granted by a high intellect. Yet as the mountains and desert rose up to meet him, the poor youth couldn’t think of a single thing that could possibly slow him down enough to survive impact. The only thing that came to mind was hitting something hard enough to negate some of the force he was barreling into his country with.
“Better than nothing,” he mumbled to himself as he tried to correct his stance in the air.
Owari asked if she could help, but he declined. Even with her added control, the method he was using needed a firm mastery over a certain martial art his sister always had some difficulty using. With the modicum control of demon blood he had, plus the absolute mastery of the Tora-no-Ken, Michino measured that he should have enough strength to punch a wave of air against the speed he was pushing currently to break some of his fall. The problem? Finding something he could punch that wasn’t a damn mountain. The mountains that rushed by below him were everywhere, and as his descent lowered to a level where he could finally feel some warmth, despite the night. Finally he saw his destination. It was a small cave sticking out of about a 120 yards of pure golden grain that would at least keep him from becoming sheer paste when he punched. The Toraono drew all of his training and discipline into a single thought. He corrected his stance in the sky as best he could, drew his fist back, and began to shout in fury and fear as he channeled chakra and Youkai energy into his fist to slam against the small cave.
“Out of the fire and into hell, aye Owari?” the giant mumbled to the demon in his head.
“Who Owari?” the girl suddenly quipped. The trapped soldier’s eyes widened as he stared in disbelief. Carefully he took her features in better in the attempt to comprehend what his opponent was. She was small and lean, but not untrained. The exposed flesh from her worn leather jerkin revealed muscles and scars that Michino immediately recognized as survivalist. This girl had possibly managed to spend her entire life here in the desert, away from civilization of any kind. Yet, oddly, there was a familiar scent mixed in with the overwhelming power that was giving Michino the oddest sense of deja vu. It was when their eyes met that he finally recognized why. The Toraono choked back a cry of surprise as he stared at the same heterochromia his brother had; green right, blue left. Then directly beyond that were the same elongated ears that all Ryuus had; even himself.
“Dude, is this our cousin?” the demoness chirped in Michino’s head.
“WHO. OWARI.” the female before them suddenly demanded. The scent of raw power thickened into the air until it began to choke him. The dual-colored eyes were vibrant jewels full of deadly intent. The raised hand turned and curled into a half fist, causing the stone grasping the soldier to tightened around his waist. He was absolutely certain of how quickly the girl could simply cut him in half right now.
“Owari is my sister, she lives in my head,” Michino carefully responded as he lifted an index finger to point at his skull, though it was behind the wall and out of direct sight.
“Oh no lie? Neat!” his capture responded, all hints of menace gone at the drop of a hat, “She talk out of head?
“Sometimes, but not often. She’s kind of a bitch.”
The sudden jab caused laughter to roar out of the strange girl’s’ lungs as she released the technique holding Michino to grip her sides. The stone that absolutely kept a Toraono demonkin in check, turned back into sand and dropped him down into the pile beneath. The moment he was free, the second his foot touched the sand, the soldier focused a massive amount of chakra into the ground to speed him away from the girl. She was dangerous, far more dangerous than what he or Suna needed right now. The soldier needed to get out of here, hide his tracks, and then figure out where he landed and how far away from home he was. The girl had stopped laughing and looked genuinely disappointed now.
The chakra exploded from his feet into a force that allowed him to move at impossible speeds. A deep breath, a single release, and another began to pump his demonic heritage through his blood and chakra that formed his left leg and covered his right in the cursed purple flame. Flexing his core muscles, the warrior raised his lower half to flip him over and turn away so that he could hit the ground with more control, and then run. The moment his fiery purple toes touched the grains he felt something hit his side. It was way stronger than he would of guessed anything capable of hitting him that fast, and for a moment he wondered how much he had underestimated the girl behind him. That was until he turned his eyes down to see his powerful attacker in the form of an older woman. Her hair was long, wild, snow white, and her body looked battered, dehydrated…worn. Yet the fist breaking three of his ribs on his left told him that she too was nothing to futz with.
Blood exploded into his mouth, and he turned to spray it at the woman’s face. She stopped her attack and leaped away in reflex before clapping her hands together. Michino’s eyes widened to watch as the woman began to roll through hand seals. He turned to look at the younger female, then back to the older. A familiar scent, super powerful, looks like Tama, had someone who was from the village raising her…
“By the kami. You’re Takahashi Okibi.”
The older woman stopped her hand movements. Her pink irises stared daggers into Michino’s purple, but he could tell she was hesitant now. He blinked and the powerful youth was
The cave sunk deep into the earth. About six feet from the entrance the floor suddenly began to dip down. At first the entrance, which seemed rather small, quickly grew in size the further down they walked. The chair of sand followed the women in the strange circular tunnel that twisted ever downwards. It didn’t take long for Michino to suddenly realize that they were smack-middle in sandworm country. The tunnels showed all the signs of an active travel, as he had read in text books, but the two women before him brazenly walked in the most dangerous tunnels the Wind Country had to offer. After a moments walk they stopped suddenly. The youth reached down and touched the ground with an index finger, as if poking it, and a circular entrance appeared immediately. It was wide enough to swallow them all, and they all three fell at least six more feet before landing. Okibi and her daughter landed gracefully, Michino in a pile of broken sand chair. Cushioned though the fall was, he felt the ribs dig a little deeper, but repressed the cry he wanted to scream.
The youth looked back with some annoyance and lifted the sand once more to follow them, this time just simply engulfing most of Michino and floating him down a long hall. Fighting through his pain the soldier studied the walls and realized that these were not made by worm, but by man, and a very long time ago. They were a silver marble and carved by something far more talented than most of what mankind had. Despite how old they had to be, they bore little signs of true aging aside from the collected dust. The warm golden light of a fire washed over him as he entered what appeared to be a buried amphitheater.
Wooden benches with rotted cushions stretched out far in a circular formation. At the center was a broken stage/arena where a large fire roared. The weariness of battle and his injuries finally broke through to his head the moment the warmth washed over him. The moment the sand rested near the flames and Okibi began to drag him away, the darkness of unconsciousness smacked him down.
Michino had no idea how long he’d been out. When finally light decided to slip through his eyelids, all he knew was that he hurt. The presence of his sister was quite absent, no doubt having given up on drawing him awake and returned to her own realm. His entire body screamed at him as he slowly pushed himself up on the little cot that supported his massive frame by some witchcraft. A sudden stab of pain hit his entire left side and radiated out. Michino opened his mouth to scream out only to have a small hand firmly close his mouth. His purple eyes looked to see a very paranoid Okibi press on their awkward silence. After a few seconds the soldier realized why she insisted his silence as he felt the rumbling of a creature burrowing their way past the sunken amphitheater. He slowly moved his eyes to search for the girl through a pained blurry sight, and found her next to the entrance with her hands against a hastily made barrier. She pushed waves of invisible energy to guide the worms around the ancient construct. After what felt like an eternity, the sounds faded and the scent of danger ebbed. Okibi released Michino and helped him sit up properly before moving her hands down to his left side. After a few hand seals a green light surfaced on her skin. Pressing the light against Michino, it sank into his side and began to pull the broken ribs out of his lungs before setting them back. It took all of his willpower to to simply black out, but couldn’t help but be a little impressed at her skill. It was easily high caliber, especially when compared to the talent they had right now, but still not the levels of his brother. Tama could deafen the pain of a wound before healing it, the woman tending him either didn’t know it or didn’t care; her features as she worked made it hard to tell through his blurry vision. After a second eternity, the green light faded and Michino gladly laid back on the impressively strong cot, covered in cold sweat and paler. Okibi stood up and walked over to a large clay pot before dipping a bowl into it to draw out a bit of water. Walking back to Michino she crouched down again and set the bowl beside his head. First she used the water to wash her hands and then, tearing a small strip of clothing, made a wet rag to put on Michino’s forehead as he recovered from the healing.
“Is Tami alive?” the woman said suddenly. Her hands gripped the worn out cloth on her legs.
“Yes,” the soldier responded with a hoarse voice, knowing it was his brother she asked after.
“H-how…and who…are you? His son?” The irony of the statement wasn’t lost on the Toraono. He closed his eyes and smiled weakly, and with a sigh finally admitted,
“Nope. His half-brother. It’s…a long story…”
Ryuu Tama could have joined the fight, even with his issues, but would have risked losing what little life he had to cling to. With the help of a certain other Underground head figure, however, the scientist did finally solve the problem of his cloning procedure. Ironically, it was because they weren’t human enough to stabilize. The Solar Hybrid’s pride had only grown since cheating death not once, but multiple times now. He had grand visions of constructing a body that could handle his full powers without the realization that he had long ago stepped beyond the realm of mortal limitations. His incredibly distracting friend had corrected his miscalculations and steered the cloning process back towards a human form. Tama, once again, was just out of reach of stepping into the realm of becoming a full blown Ancient, a creature like his mentor; instead he was stepping back into a mortal shell. According to the clone’s specs, he wouldn’t have the awe-inspiring control over lightning and wind as he nearly had at his peak, but, it would allow him to focus using one of those powers. The Solar Court’s power wasn’t lost to him, just sort of condensed and under heavy lock and key. The bonus of accepting a human form? Breaking free of his time curse, but retaining the control of it he had learned from this weird period of his life. The Universe may literally be after the mad scientist’s soul, but at least now he had an edge to fight back with.
The stone sex dungeon/lab had been clear of everything except a giant circle filled with…all manner of spellcraft. Runes from Ancient times, powerful kanji from the Sunan military, and even his own special markings that called on power not available to anyone who couldn’t master Time. In the center of the magic circle was a naked body that looked like he should look. It looked like a male in their early forties, long blond hair with silver highlights, perfectly toned muscles and trained reflexes already tempered into the nervous system. All Tama had to do was activate the spell. The scientist took one more walk around the circle then stood at the Southern Point before clapping his hands together. Taking in a deep breath for concentration the fingers began to slip between each other, calling forth the power inside of his soul to slowly pour into his hands. Molding chakra was like kneading bread. Do it wrong, and all kinds of results could happen, but with practice and surgical precision, one could make chakra cut through mountains. The lab began to shake with the power Tama was drawing up…
The hours crept past. Michino couldn’t tell how many exactly had gone by, or how long he had been down here. They had all ate some dried meat and drank a small bit of water while retelling his brother’s background, at least of what he knew; and that was still quite a chronicle. By the time he finally got around to talking about his sibling’s most recent debacle with time itself, Okibi had a hand over her mouth in either shock or disgust; he still couldn’t really read her. The girl who seemed to have a very unnatural control over the earth was sitting near them now, knees to her chin, with a look of sheer curiosity that he could only compare to his brother’s. Michino could no longer keep the boiling question inside of him.
“So…is the kid an Dune Orphan?” They weren’t unnatural. Children who were born to parents in remote parts of the desert that had managed to find some way to survive the unsurvivable.
“No…” Okibi responded, her looks softening now with a wry smirk creeping up her right cheek, “She mine…and his. Though…I think now, she’s more the Desert’s. Since she manifest the Mark, Otami has been a little eyed,” the mother said, looking at her child with a worried glace, though the girl only smiled back.
“What happened,” the Toraono asked in a tone that implied he might be able to help. Okibi hesitated for just a moment before sighing with a defeated laugh.
“Sixteen years…at the very least, anyways, we’ve stayed away from and out of Sogay’s duties. I thought, I killed Tama, and so that was kinda awkward, too and…I was afraid..
“My anger with everything is mostly gone…but I didn’t start letting go of things until six years ago…” Okibi suddenly broke eye contact with Michino and looked up at the ceiling, a single tear rolling down the cheek not facing the stranger,
“We’ve did really, really well for staying away from the worst of Suna’s monsters. For awhile, we followed a wolf pack that protected us, then wandered alone after we were ousted by the new alpha for a little longer. We’ve lived though horrible storms, sandworms, I think a big lizard once, but…nothing could of prepared us for facing people again. Bandits…strong ones. Probably ex-soldiers. For all my training, and everything I killed, to survive…I only managed to kill one. They,” her voice cracked. Tears were flowing down both cheeks freely now. A large, but light, hand rested gently on Okibi’s shoulder. The mother shuddered and cringed from the large man’s touch, but when she looked up to see his eyes, she softened a little. Michino, too, was crying, already imagining the horrors the men who raided the sands were capable of. He was telling her without a sound, she didn’t have to say anything, but instead the woman raised her arm up to drape it across the one resting on her shoulders,
“No…I’m not afraid of saying it. They tried, to rape me. Otami” her breath hitched, “Tried to stop them and someone stabbed her. Through the chest…and…then everything happened so fast.”
The rest of the story went as Michino imagined it did. The bloodlines he hailed from, Toraono and Ryuu, were both ‘power types’. Inside of them were DNA triggers that gave them bursts of power out of nowhere and from seemingly nothing. On the many times his own foot had touched Death’s doorstep, he found only ways to fight harder. Seeing one’s mother being attacked and then suffering a fatal wound…the bandits of course died instantly in a flurry of earth and blood. Though, apparently, the incident triggered a mark to appear on Otami’s body and with it came her control over the earth; lost from it was her awareness. According to Okibi, her daughter has been worriedly spacey since then. To the point that it had nearly killed the youth on multiple occasions. The girl’s control over the world, for as strong as it was, came at whimsy.
“May I see it?” Michino asked of the teenager sitting between them. With a shrug the girl stood up, turned away from him, and with a flick her of her wrists dropped the worn out garments to the floor.
“Whoa!” the large man shielded his eyes.
“Otami!”
“What?”
Once Okibi had fixed her daughter’s dress to at least cover her lower half again Michino, still flushed from being the cinnamon bun he was, scanned over the strange marks that covered the teen’s back. He saw the scar detailing exactly where the blow had struck her, and the angle as well. It should of severed her spine and pierced at least the edge of the heart. On the other side, it was the same. A scar was centered on her chest and blooming from the puckered flesh was black runes that scattered all over both front and back. The Toraono was only able to catch the pattern of the seal that had been placed on her, but did recognize a familiar Ancient Rune that Tama loved to use in his ninjutsu.
“So…she like Tama? She need to…eat people?”
“Gross.”
“No…and I think it was souls, but, I don’t think she’s like her father...at least in that regard. I believe it’s something else, but, only a handful of people could even tell us, and they all live in…Suna.”
“Yeah…I figured. I thinks is time I said hello to pops...if it helps Otami I’ll do anything. Even say high to that ridiculous bastard again…”
[Topic Entered/Left]
Last edited: