Five minutes later the fight was definitely over, and a defeated Ringo fumed off to the side of the Arkspire. A little visible red welt could be seen on her forehead.

“You didn’t have to hit her.” Gekko groaned as he sat upright, finally having regained enough energy to move again. “She’s just doing her job.”

“Yeah, well.” Still wiping filth from her face Junko sighed. “I’m a bit on edge, okay. You guys didn’t wait for me, I thought you left me for dead.” As she leaned against some rubble, Junko gestured towards the distant Ringo with her stump of an arm. “Is she going to be alright?”

“She’ll be fine. You should worry about yourself.” Gekko squinted as he gazed towards the horizon, but the misty air prevented him from seeing the sea even from the top of the tower. “Annitou isn’t going to take the death of a General lightly. You should probably get out of here.”

Junko ran her hand down the length of the leather sheath housing what remained of her weapon and let out her own dismissive snort. “Nonsense. I just killed an Annitou traitor. I have a witness!” She waggled what was left of Sahori at the boy. “Plus I’m not really in any condition to go hide in the jungle for another couple weeks. I’ll take my chances.”

“I guess anyone crazy enough to risk drowning for a dumb sword lacks the common sense to understand how unreasonable Annitou’s justice system can be.”

Checking for the fourth or fifth time, Junko tilted the sword sheath to the side, and the metal blade of Sahori did indeed slip out of it. The Jinchi fires disintegrated everything else completely- there was no handle, no guard, nothing but the crystal clear shine of steel. She slid it back, satisfied. “Unlike you, I’m capable of being diplomatic. Remember, I fought Daisuke first!”

Any further conversation would have to wait, as Ringo finally broke out of her depressive state and hopped to her feet. The sunlight was strong enough now that the morning fog began to lift, allowing the girl to see something that truly lifted her spirits. “Look! Gekko, come look!” She turned and pointed out towards the horizon. “The rest of the Navy has arrived!”

-

The makeshift medical boat fared poorly in the early morning choppy waters of Jinchi, causing Hajime to constantly lurch and slide as the rough waves tossed and turned the wooden ship. Unlike the rest of the ships used in the evacuation, orders came down from the top brass to keep the medical vessel tethered to Camp Monog’s one dock. The bigger, nicer, cooler warships on either side of it made the boat look positively miniscule. At the very least the wide shadows cast by the ships didn’t block his view of Camp Monog’s newest construction. The ominous looking tower looked a lot less intimidating when not lit up by a storm, but then again Hajime’s eyes weren’t really in the best condition anyway. Bandaged from head to toe he kept his grip on the mast as the boat again began to churn. Fatigue and a really strong desire to nap tried to pull him back into the smelly depth below, but Hajime hung on. For his team!

No news arrived yet of whether or not Annitou forces apprehended the vile fiend General Hashimoto Daisuke.The word on everyone’s lips was that sightings placed the General at that frightening citadel now dominating the landscape. All night that crazy thing had been glowing and spitting off flames too- at one point, it even looked like it had been about to erupt!

No wonder General Gou had jumped out after it after the reports of Daisuke sightings rolled in. Everyone eagerly awaited the news of his victory over...whatever was happening. Nobody had any good answers there. Gou must have won though, since the tower’s threatening, sky engulfing fire got snuffed out like a cheap candle very abruptly in the middle of the storm. Hajime couldn’t wait to hear the story!

And more than that, hear it right from Gekko! His teammate was absolutely alive, of that Hajime was unfalteringly certain. Ringo believed it too, even if she said she didn’t! After all, she’d gone chasing after General Gou, and why else would she have done that if not for a teammate? Hajime eased his roiling stomach a bit by focusing on the tower as the ship continued to bob and sway. The whole team would be back together again, and the enemy’s evil plan would be thwarted. Just like in the story books.

“That’s the kid.” An unfamiliar gruff voice spoke from somewhere nearby, though Hajime at first tried to ignore it. “Ignore all the bandages, you can be as rough with him as you want. If he can stand he can’t be that hurt.”

Recognizing that perhaps someone was addressing him, Hajime struggled to adjust his grip so he could turn around. A visitor? He was, after all, the only member of Team Gou still on board, so maybe someone wanted his autograph! He didn’t even get to turn full around before an overpowering set of fingers clasped around his cut up head.

Hajime let out a pathetic “oh” in response as he was suddenly spun around like a top, the fingers easily bringing him into line as he found himself staring at a very fancy uniform. Medals and buttons and- wow, was that a bandolier? Only the coolest Agents got to wear those!

“Wow, kid.” Hajime’s head bent back and forth painfully as his abuser tilted it from side to side, to which he let out little ‘ows’ each time. “Someone did a number on you. Were you running with scissors?”

“I -ow- don’t do- oh, wow, that smarts- that type of thing. Unless it’s for -ow- training.”

Finally the hand released him, allowing Hajime to look up at who was casting the long shadow across his injured body. He probably should have recognized it from the voice alone, and upon that realization he at once snapped his posture upright and attempted to salute. “Oh! I’m sorry! General-” Having lost his grip on the mast in order to perform the salute, Hajime stumbled, and then nearly collapsed into the grimy deck. The powerful arm reached out and grabbed him by the neck before he did so, though, and pulled the boy back into a stable stance as she let out a disappointed huff.

“So it’s just you, huh?” After quite painfully brushing the grime off child’s bandages, all attention turned back towards the island. “Everyone else on General Gounomouno’s staff is unavailable. Figures.”

“Ah, well!” Hajime stuttered as he tried to cover for his team. “We’re busy! You see, that spooky tower, they all went there to put an end to the Garion General’s dastardly plan!”

“And what was that plan?”

“To, uh.” Hajime felt like it would have been a good time for a literal head scratch, but he was still locked in a salute. “Steal...our stuff! I think!”

“Hm. Is that what General Gou told you?”

“It’s top secret! Which means, no, he didn’t tell us anything.” Hajime went back to staring at his interrogator’s nice shoes. “Actually I kind of...haven’t talked to him in a while. He’s been really busy.”

“He told you to evacuate, didn’t he?”

“He told all of us to evacuate! Very important! General Daisuke is a murdering psychopath, you see, and he’s being helped by these other Agents-”

“I know, kid. Gou was trying to transfer his cadet team for months. He didn’t want you anywhere near this island.”

“Ah.” Hajime let out another little sign of unaware realization. “Uh. Okay. That’s, okay. That’s fair. We’re pretty young, so-”

“Cadet Tanuma Gekko is the only other Bossa translator on the island, correct?”

“Well, other than General Gou, yes-”

“And if Cadet Tanuma Gekko was sent off the island, there’d be nobody to decipher the Jinchi ruins left behind, correct?”

“I mean, theoretically-”

“Neither Cadet Tanuma Gekko nor General Gou have sent off any new translations for months either, have they?”

“It’s- it’s really busy here! There’s a big stack of papers on General Gou’s desk, and you know running the camp- there’s a lot of work- there’s a lot of people we have to check-”

“You need to get some rest.” The interrogation ended and Hajime was let loose again. He finally broke the salute to grab onto something stable, not quite sure what had just happened. He hadn’t gotten anybody in trouble, had he? Oh no!

Several more shadows appeared from seemingly nowhere as Hajime did his best to look small. There was a rapid fire exchange between those present, who talked as if Hajime wasn’t even standing there.

“That other Garion agent caught floating in the sea has been more than cooperative. He wants us to let him out of the brig so he can keep hunting Daisuke.”

“We’ve called off the forces tailing the prison ship that mutinied. There was nobody of value on it anyway, and we can’t afford to spread ourselves too thin. Most of the prisoners were sick anyway.”

“Reports are coming in from the first landing crews. We’ve put them on defense after someone sighted the ribbon Agent again.”

“ And no sightings of General Gounomouno yet? He hasn’t fled, has he? There’s no way he got notice of our investigation this early and chose to run. I would expect better from a legend like himself.”

“Unlikely. We’ll know once we take the tower.”

“Excellent.” Several pairs of uncomfortable eyes fell onto the rather diminutive looking Hajime. “Keep the boy under close watch. Once he’s in better shape, he’ll be a good witness!”

Suddenly Hajime found a pair of arms around his own, and another large adult politely but very assertively pushing him back towards the hatch leading down into the ship. “Come on, lad. You shouldn’t be up here anyway.”

“Eh?” Hajime couldn’t do much but gape like a fish as he was so effortlessly moved. “Eh? Eh?” With one last look of confusion, he glanced back towards the tower, which was only just now finally becoming clearly visible as some of the sun’s rays reached its surface. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something far above his head was happening.

But most of all he was terrified that Ringo would flip out if he got too far away and his jutsu fell apart. He made a promise and he wanted to keep it! No, he would keep it!

Just from somewhere less tilty and more comfortable. Suffering wasn’t going to bring Gekko back any quicker, and thinking too hard gave him a headache. He’d let the adults handle it. After all, Annitou was the best nation ever, so what could go wrong?

-

What was once a glint on the horizon now came into much starker view. The outlines of a dozen separate warships emerged from the retreating fog, though only observers from a location as high up as the tower could notice. Yuu caught sight of it first, but didn’t feel terribly concerned as he and Hana ascended. “These rooms are getting pretty sparse anyway.” Knowing Hana couldn’t really respond with her jaw bound shut, Yuu took it upon himself to constantly vocalize every possible worry that came across his mind as they moved from ancient ruin to ancient ruin. “There can’t be that much more to steal. We’re already plenty loaded. Let’s get out before Annitou starts offloading soldiers and we get stuck up here.”

Emerging from a dark room with another armful of trinkets came a much smaller, but no less upsetting looking Hana. Not a single bit of skin showed as her entire body now lay encased in a swath of black ribbons. Allegedly the different color kept the blood from showing, though Yuu could still pick out a few locations around the joints where it was clear Hana wasn’t as put together as she acted. Even so she shook her head as she dumped the myriad of junk onto the floor, and Yuu just sighed as he picked through it for the choicest bits. “I’d like to live to tell the story, you know.” As he dug through his fingers snatched up various baubles and suspicious looking fragments, relying on his intuition more than any great archeological knowledge. “The great Metsina Royal Yuu, using the awesome power of his Hand of God to...break doors open so his partner could loot them.” Hana scraped one of her cloth claws across the ground and gave what Yuu assumed was a look of disagreement. “Sorry. To break doors open so he could better serve the protege of General Ama, the infamous Agent Itsuki Hana. Is that better?”

Though her face was completely covered in cloth, Yuu could have sworn she was concealing a smug look of approval under there. That she could move at all was ridiculous- the girl’s body was still an absolute wreck. Despite the rather intimidating look when she wore her jutsu as a full set of armor, in its current state she could really barely move. All the broken limbs and shredded skin was tucked neatly away within the confines of her technique...though it was apparent whenever she winced after moving a bit too fast that she was nowhere near her prime. This was less the ‘ribbon demon’ the Annitou soldiers warned about and more like a pulverized girl soup poured into a cloth cast. For Yuu, though, this was a preferable existence for Hana compared to one with her buried six feet under.

Wounds could be healed, and treasure could always be stolen, but life could never be gotten back. At least, not quite as easily gotten back as it was to lose.

Distant shouting made its way all the way to the top of the towers. Yuu again looked out over Camp Monog towards the port, where the first of the ships were just beginning to lay anchor and offload troops. “Well, you already know my opinion.” He looked back at Hana, who now seemed quite interested in fiddling with some kind of puzzle box. “That Annitou girl we saw scampering up is probably still up on the roof somewhere. If you wanted revenge this will probably be the last time you’ll get the chance to get it.”

Slipping the puzzle into Yuu’s pack Hana didn’t make any vocalizations, or even shake her head. Instead she turned it towards the stairs, leading down, then pointed at Yuu’s bag. She was taking the whole broken jaw thing pretty well, all things considered! “Yeah, I think you’re right.” Yuu shifted his weight and their ill gotten gains jingled a bit behind him. “Other than that sword I don’t know how valuable most of this stuff will end up being...I guess we’ll have to wait and see. It’ll be a real pain smuggling this out though. Probably a good enough haul to please the Queen, I think. Who cares about that dumb skull when we have all this?”

Already Hana descended, not waiting for Yuu to follow. And of course he did! Unlike how it usually was, for once he could easily keep up. As casually as one would during a stroll through the park Yuu pulled out the only other mystery object that the two scavenged in those hectic last few hours of chaos. He flipped through it again in the hopes it’s scrawled code would jump out at him, but of course it didn’t. He couldn’t make heads or tails of the drawings or notes, except that he only recognized the journal as being Garion in origin from the type of paper used between its covers. Well beyond his ability to decipher, at least. Probably well beyond Metsina’s as well.

But that’s what you paid spies for! If it belonged to General Daisuke it might be worth a fortune. He closed the book and joined Hana as she found their exit point, leaning out of the window facing farthest from the docks so that none of the approaching Annitou soldiers would see them depart. The long length of ribbon they used to ascend the tower still dangled there, and when they left there wouldn’t be any trace the two left to notice. After all, it wasn’t as though anyone had been inside those locked rooms for over a thousand years- who would care about them being robbed blind?

If the Jinchi peoples had any problem with it, then let them come to Metsina to reclaim what was theirs!

-

Feet pounded through the muddy streets of Camp Monog. Shouting from soldiers reverberated through the shanties and shacks as if an invading army threatened to leap out of them at any moment. For all the hubbub and bluster (and occasional mistaken identity), very little actual conflict emerged from the swarms of Annitou soldiers spreading out through the settlement. In fact, for some, it was a relief- after all that frightening business the previous night with the thunder and the earthquakes and the tower and the sky being lit on fire, a little bit of government overreach felt like a welcome return to normalcy.

At the Three Dead Dogs a small crowd even gathered of souls who hadn’t been forced onto evacuating ships the previous night. Every once in a while a soldier would pop their head in, get a whiff, and decide it wasn’t worth searching the building, accompanied by the cheers of the patrons. It was really early to be drinking but, well, when every drink might be your last, who could blame them?

A tall and unrecognizable figure sat at one of the farthest tables, nursing a small drink he only occasionally took sips from. His head was heavily bandaged and his clothes stank of the jungle, so most assumed him to be just a wayward hunter who came back into town at the wrong time. A strange looking piece of glass sat on his table as well, which slightly resembled a warped vase. In a pub, an empty glass was a worthless glass, so it wasn’t likely the man was going to get much if he intended to sell it. As if the markets would be open today anyway!

Still, in between his sips and puffing away at a cigarette, the man’s aura was simply too intimidating to approach. Eventually he scribbled down something on a torn sheet of paper and slid to the bartender with his payment, leaving the coiled glass lawn ornament on the table as he left. It was promptly thrown in the trash, where it belonged. The message he left behind wouldn’t get delivered, either; unfortunate, because everyone working at the Three Dead Dogs had been hoping to see Junko again after all that had happened. But that was probably for the best. The dock was in bad enough shape already, it really couldn’t survive another fight between monsters.

-

After multiple attempts to convince Gekko, Ringo eventually gave up and resigned herself to patrolling the rim of the tower. “Come on,” Gekko groaned, still not willing to stand on his two legs. “I have like, a broken arm. It was a wonder I even made it out of that cauldron anyway, there’s no way I’m climbing all the way down.”

Junko, meanwhile, seemed far too eager to get moving after finally sewing up what was left of her stubby arm. “Shouldn’t have thrown away that knife. We could have used the elevator again.”

“If I held onto that knife any longer then I guarantee you some other jerk would have shown up to fight us.” Gekko bundled himself up and tried to absorb the few rays of sunshine that made their way through the slowly parting clouds. “I need a rest anyway. Once Annitou gets up here it’s going to be nonstop questions.”

“Hmm.” Junko chose not to respond, and instead focused on treating her own plethora of injuries. There was after all a nonzero chance she would end up on a Annitou prison boat after this, and given her condition breaking out wouldn’t be very enjoyable. Somehow she didn’t think it would come to that, though. How could such a cruel fate await her on such a beautiful day?

“NORTH-NORTH-WEST!” Ringo’s voice pierced the veil of comfort as she sounded the alarm. “GENERAL DAISUKE SPOTTED, APPROACHING RAPIDLY!”

At that moment Junko was glad she didn’t have any rum left because if she did, she would have spit it out. Even Gekko was so startled he almost, almost got back onto his feet. Ringo kept screaming while Junko wrestled with her now hilt-less sword. She ran through the short list of good ideas on how to wield a sword with no handle, before shooting through all the bad ones, and then realizing there wasn’t any good ones left. An immense pit formed in her stomach and her vision started to get fuzzy. Of all the times, of all the times! Gekko looked ready to vomit and indeed, placed his good hand over his mouth in horror. Maybe the incomprehensible power that lingered on that stone dagger carried over longer than he thought.

“Oh, no. Wait.” Ringo’s voice dropped an octave. “On closer inspection, it looks like a really confused homeless man. Why didn’t he evacuate!” Ringo gave her judgmental stare downwards, then looked back towards her teammate. “This is exactly why uniforms are so important-hey, HEY!”

“Don’t stand so close to Gekko!” Ringo snapped her attention sideways to the still recovering Junko. “When the soldiers arrive, they might mistake you for an enemy! Because you really look like one!”

Junko, her composure returning after that demoralizing false alarm, gave a mock salute to the girl, who was still giving her a death glare. “Thanks a bunch. Glad you Annitou folks are always looking out for the little guy.”

“If I hadn’t seen you attack General Daisuke with my own eyes, I wouldn’t be helping you!” Ringo puffed up and waved her baton threateningly, or at least as much as one could standing as far away as she was. “I expect you to tell Annitou everything! And to turn in your weapons, as soon as someone who outranks me shows up!”

“Gee, yeah.” Junko shook some more water off her sword, her fingers twitching where the hilt used to be. “Can’t wait to hand over a naked piece of metal like it’s something dangerous. Anything to appease the new overlords of Jinchi.”

Another uneasy silence settled. Junko still stood at high alert just in case Ringo was mistaken twice, and Ringo just glowered and skulked, still unhappy with the lack of proper leadership or direction. Eventually Gekko stepped in (figuratively, he wasn’t going to get up for anything at this point).

“Do you think,” Gekko’s voice came out with a distant attachment as the shock left him, almost like he was talking to himself. “The Jinchi people all agreed to die when they used this tower the first time? Or was it an accident? Or did the people in charge do it, and not tell anyone?”

Finally moving herself Junko shuffled her weary body towards one of the many pillars still dotting the rooftop, and leaned against it for support. She seemed to welcome the distraction. “Who knows? Isn’t that your job to find out, since you, uh, speak the language and all that?” She was facing away from Gekko, still not entirely willing to look her kidnapping victim in the eye after all that had transpired. “Wouldn’t surprise me if a few people with delusions of doing the right thing decided to fire the thing up without anyone knowing. If a kid and a bent out of shape Agent could manage it, I’m sure it wouldn’t have taken much to get it going a thousand years ago.”

“Do you think it was the right thing to do?” Gekko left the statement ambiguous, before backpedaling. “To wipe out your people in order to...I don’t know, kill a god or whatever. Does anything justify doing that?”

“Sounds like a better excuse than Motonubu’s.” Annoyingly Junko had lost the hand that usually rested on Sahori, so she shifted her belt around in agitation to try and accommodate. “Must feel pretty nice, though, just being able to smash an ‘end everything’ button. Staying alive and having to deal with consequences is a whole lot harder than just up and dying.”

A large, tired, and defeated sigh tumbled out of Gekko’s throat, and his head bent low in between his knees. Junko wouldn’t have faulted the kid for passing out right there. “That does sound kind of nice. Not having to care about what happens tomorrow. Whatever.” He was speaking into the ground now, which made his response hard to hear. Judging from his tone, Junko got the gist of it well enough.

“You can’t make up for your mistakes if you’re dead, right?”

Rather than reply, Junko just kept her eyes trained on the horizon. More mistakes didn’t really make up for past ones, did they? But the sun would come up tomorrow, just one more day in the giant cosmic tapestry. The only real mistake that mattered was the one that ended your story- and Junko wasn’t quite in the mood to have her’s end with this awful Jinchi mess.

There was no making up for some mistakes, though. She didn’t say that, of course. It seemed like Gekko had already dozed off anyway. Funny how the warmth of the sun felt so much different from those all consuming flames of death she had been so willing to plunge herself into just moments ago. Just this time, despite knowing better, Junko closed her eyes and relaxed, at least as best she could with the throbbing reminder of the part of her she was never going to get back.

Complicated questions like ‘am I doing the right thing’ were a bit outside of her forte anyway. Let the eggheads and academics (and judges and juries) decide that. There would be time for regrets later. Right now, Junko decided, what she really needed was another flask of rum and a hot shower. That, at least, was a goal she wouldn’t feel any regret about pursuing.

At least she was still alive to have regrets. For now, Junko decided, that would have to be good enough.