Wrinkled hands rubbed together in anticipation. A career spent wasting in poverty and futile research would now come to its grand end with the finest specimen the Doctor ever had to inspect.

Careless and impudent soldiers moved two desks in the master bedroom to form a table and then laid the linen-wrapped corpse onto it. With a shooing motion, the samurai left the Doctor at peace.

With a sigh, the old man carefully sat his supplies atop the plush and silky bed as he turned to the sheet concealed cadaver, pulling the veil off and revealing the goddess. Flesh and blood like all others.

The scalp has been razed and the specimen's hair has been torn, most likely damage to the skull as well. Lacerations down the face. Jaw dislocated. Severe damage from the neck down to the breasts. Abdomen in even worse shape. Entrails completely exposed. Arms and legs both dislocated with major tissue loss.

The Doctor sighed and shook his head. He had learned so much from yokai. They were the key to so much of his plans. But it was quite a shame to have the most important autopsy of his life be done on such a poor carcass.

Turning to retrieve his equipment and get to work, the Doctor received an unexpected and unwanted visitor.

The Shogun's lapdog slid open the door to the Doctor's room and spoke. "Our men still haven't found your friends and are getting tired. They've been working without rest for days on end now."

Finding Kenshi and the rest of his companions didn't matter to the Doctor. The ember wielders he had gathered got to sleep comfortably in the back of their carts on the way and were already patrolling the palace. Either they killed Kenshi and his friends or injured him enough to sufficiently pacify him. "Tell them to sleep then. I'm confident in the night patrol."

The ember wielder ambiently tightened and adjusted the shields at his arms. "I already gave them those orders myself. You may not remember but you don't control me or the men the Shogun has entrusted with me."

The old man turned away and rolled his eyes at Eizo's naivety and stared at the horizon through his window. They both knew who had the samurai's true allegiance. "Then why have you bothered me?"

"I came to tell you how you've run these men into the ground. That no matter how hard you try to hide the Shogun, I've seen what you've done to him. His arm."

The Doctor smirked. So much to learn from yokai. So much power to derive from them. "Why? Are you unhappy that I've given him an antidote for disability?" Ah, Eizo hadn't even the faintest hint of what the Doctor had done before it was too late. The Doctor hadn't been with the Shogun for long when that yokai was spotted next to Kamakura's walls, but by then the Doctor already had those loyal to him, and the Shogun was busy with his recently severed arm. So he broke the emperor's law and brought the yokai into a discrete location alive. Experimenting on the immortal creature, learning about its physicality and intelligence. Taking the blood, mixing it with neutralizing agents, and injecting it into the Shogun's wound. The results being victorious in using the yokai's power to regenerate entire limbs. With manageable side effects.

A voice shot through the Doctor's thoughts. "You know you haven't cured him. What you've put upon him is a curse."

A chuckle escaped the Doctor's lips. He spoke as he turned once again to face Eizo. "Sometimes someone must accept a curse for the answer. And the knowledge your master has given me answers things of far greater worth than the risk of his life."

Eizo's cheeks had flushed with anger. His shielded arms shook as he tightly clenched his fists. The Doctor smirked as his hand drifted to his medical bag resting on the bed, ready to pull his scalpel from it if need be.

This was his test, Eizo would either leave to fruitlessly protect his Shogun from harm, or he would try to kill the old man.

Closing his eyes, Eizo took a deep breath. Opening them again, and he began to back up. "The Shogun will learn about this. We aren't finished."

"Yes. I'm sure he will."

The shield bearing samurai left the room to walk aimlessly around the third floor as the Doctor went back to his business.

Grabbing a soft pillow, the Doctor moved to the master bedrooms open balcony and sat. He had noticed that his hands were shaky, and the Doctor wouldn't allow himself to perform any sort of surgical procedure without complete precision. He had never let nerves get the best of him before, so the Doctor wondered if instead it was his age finally getting to him.

No matter. With his new research, even mortality itself could be rejected its dues. A new land, with new laws free of disease and injury... With an intelligent leader to herd the masses from their previous ignorance, of course.

As he watched the horizon, the Doctor pondered the status of the body laying on his homemade examination table. Even the 'goddess' was flesh and blood on the inside. There had to be something that ceased her aging inside, something that she derived her power from.

With yokai, it was simple. The composition of their flesh was akin to fungi. Cut some off, and it slowly tries its best to recreate its original form, usually to little success. But with a human host, it's like giving the fungi somewhere moist and stable to grow, all along with a template for its humanoid form. But with the goddess, nothing about her at a glance seemed beyond human.

It didn't matter, as long as he had the body, the Doctor's curiosity was boundless, but all that really mattered was a successful serum.

To make the healing elixir, the Doctor would take his yokai fluid and mix it with blood from an ember wielder. Their's was the goddess's power and it kept the yokai flesh from completely taking over the body. With the Shogun, the Doctor gave him a strong mixture that was primarily yokai fluid, and the more he healed the more he would transition to being more yokai than human. Over time the Doctor adjusted the recipe until the Shogun's arm completely reformed into its puss-filled and ashen purple state, now he was barely anything more than blood transfusions to keep him from turning. The Doctor knew that the transfusions wouldn't last forever, but with Amaterasu, the effects could be permanent. Working like yin and yang and making a perfect balance, giving all the benefits of the yokai while purging it of its infectious abilities. Making something more than human. Something better.

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor stood from his cushion and walked back into the luscious bedroom. Woodblock paintings of different historical events sat atop various nightstands and desks. The furniture was made of ancient mahogany and was handcrafted into complex and ornate structures. When the Doctor wielded the power that he had worked for, he wished for a palace with as much grandeur as the goddess'. Why act with such complexity while such a simple solution is all around you? The old man thought. If he wanted a palace like the goddess', then he would simply take it for himself. Would some see that as a statement of godhood? Well, when the elixir was finally perfected...

A smirk came over the Doctor's face as he went back to the task at hand, finally moving back to the bed and his bag of medical supplies. As his fingers hovered over the knot keeping the sack of metals hidden, he felt the ground beneath him shift.

Loud crashes sounded as he sighed and opened the bag, not reaching for the scalpel or clamps or the different vials of yokai blood, but a small knife he had hidden away under all the other equipment. Carrying his knife, the Doctor left his room and went into the entrance of the third floor. Metal clashing against metal could be heard. Shouting. Doors slamming open and shut. A familiar voice barking commands at his simpleminded followers. Ah, it seemed that Kenshi was indeed able to get past the first line of defenses. The invisible one he had hired wasn't surprising, he had little faith in someone that took his duties so lightly from the start. The two at the great hall on the first floor were the smallest bit surprising in their failure. They were originally part of the emperor's guard. No matter, the Doctor had known Kenshi's thick-headed determination for long enough to know that he wouldn't die from any head-on altercation.

The old man walked to the Shogun's room and looked at the door. Eizo had taken a rope and tied the door shut, but the Doctor couldn't have that. He wanted Kenshi to see his work, and if he ended up killing the Shogun, the Doctor wouldn't necessarily mind.

After using his knife to cut the rope and leaving the door slightly ajar, the Doctor walked over to a small closet near the stairs and opened the door. A young girl sat on her knees with her hands sitting on the wooden flooring, concentrating on warping the palace to hinder Kenshi and his companions.

The Doctor squatted down and slowly sat the knife in front of the girl. Kenshi would endlessly rant over honor with his companions back in their old caravan of soldiers, but the Doctor thought no such thing. Any means to the most preferable end, and the Doctor wanted Kenshi dead or incapacitated at the least.

Hearing Kenshi scream in pain from below had a pleasant ring to the Doctor's ears. He wanted to listen more, but as the crashing grew louder and shouting came closer the Doctor knew he needed to go back. He wouldn't break the girl from her concentration with the ember. She would know what to do with the weapon supplied to her.

Going back to his room, the Doctor heard the shouting and ruffian behavior grow ever closer. The old man noticed his hands had finally calmed with new confidence in his plan. He thought he'd finally begin the first few incisions to pass the time, but as he reached into his bag the door to his room slammed open. The old man brushed his hand through his hair as he turned with a smile.

Kenshi stood before the Doctor. His left foot was little more than the heel, and peeking out of his back was the Doctor's knife he had given to the girl.

“Ah, my dear friend, Kenshi. It seems you made it just in time…”

The Doctor is in.