Hanzo bucked into the girl, seizing the handle of his sword and wrung it from her grasp.

Then he dived off the porch, and started gunning down the path as fast as he could but the girl was hot on his tail.

She jumped on his shoulders like a wildcat and started jerking his hair loose. Seething in pain, he quickly dropped to the ground and sent her tumbling away from him.

She rolled to her feet and drew another sword.

Hanzo got up, reared his arm and the two blades struck like flint stone.

The impact knocked them away from each other and they quickly reunited with a series of outrageous blows.

Her blade sliced the air around him with finesse, every movement of her arms and body startling him.

He maneuvered his black sword left and right, blocking and parrying, often dropping a few heavy blows of his own.

He attempted a downward slash and missed, setting off an eruption that left a deep scar in the road.

Naomi spun and swung for his throat but he leaned back and took the blow to his cheek instead.

He blocked another slash to his face and thrust his sword toward her chest. The black blade skimmed across hers as she leaned to one side and swung for his exposed ribs.

Hanzo rolled like an armadillo and hopped up into the air, evading a number of crisscrossed slashes.

As soon as he hit the ground, he started booking.

“Deuces!!” He laughed, plunging through the lush forest.

Naomi chased after him, shouting venomous profanity until her voice trailed off into the distance.

Uzai stood in the middle of the road, puzzled as ever.

“I thought I heard some noise back here.” He said, suddenly noticing a pair of steel toe boots in his hands.

He looked hard at them, trying to figure out why he had them in the first place and what he planned on doing with them.

Although they were quite beat up, they still held together well and could probably last for a few more weeks.

Shrugging to himself, the senile old man removed his sandals and proceeded to put the boots on.

“Holy peanut butter porridge!” He cried. “A perfect fit! I wonder who made these? I oughta thank ‘em! My old feet can’t take these sandals anymore.”

He moshed around for a bit, testing the comfort level and found himself quite pleased.

“Very nice. What brand are these?”

Uzai turned his foot sideways and found a neat little symbol etched into the side of the footwear, belonging to a brand called Bronz.

Whoever Bronz was, they sure made some good footwear.

Uzai decided to invest in more as soon as he had the chance.

For now, it was time to look for Hanzo and continue his training.

However, the hours went by and he was nowhere to be seen.

Uzai began to worry that he’d left the island for good. The old man paced back and forth anxiously, gnawing on jerky in hopes that would change something.

A sudden rustling in the bushes nearby got his hopes up until Naomi emerged on the beachfront with a large sword and a rifle slung over her back.

“Where is he?!”

Uzai wrinkled his forehead, “Who??”

“Hanzo, you moron!”

“Hanny boy? That young whippersnapper? I haven’t seen him since this mornin’!”

“He didn’t come here yet??”

“Nope! Haven’t seen him! Maybe he left the island! Ya’ never know!”

Naomi narrowed her eyes at the old man and clenched her jaw. “If you’re lying to me…”

Uzai wore an innocent expression. It was hard to understand why the girl was in such a bad mood all the time. Perhaps it was just her hormones acting up.

He nodded to himself in agreement with his own thoughts.

“Definitely hormones…” he croaked.

“What?” Naomi snapped.

“Huh? I didn’t say anything…”

The girl made an audible growl. “Listen, you idiot. If that little roach ever puts his ugly feet in my house again, I’m going to hash him into a paste and feed him to the whole caravan.”

Uzai frowned thoughtfully, “Well, that’s not very ladylike.”

Naomi whirled around and stormed off into the woods again, cursing the old goat for his insolence.

He simply waved away her bad manners and went back to gazing at the sea. Several minutes later, he was interrupted by another fit of rustling.

Hanzo poked his face out of the bushes and checked to be sure the coast was clear.

“Is she gone yet?” He whispered. “This island’s bigger than I thought.”

“Hanny boy!!” Uzai cried.

“Be quiet, you idiot!!” He hissed, “Are you trying to get me killed??”

“Where ya been??! I was worried sick!!”

“Shut up!!! What the freak is wrong with you?!?”

Uzai did not seem to register anything Hanzo was saying.

He began to wonder if the old man just didn’t give a damn.

For his entire stay on this strange island, he never showed any other side to himself besides being an overzealous idiot.

And here he was rambling carelessly like nothing else mattered.

Something was a little off though. Hanzo couldn’t figure out what. Then he took a double take at the old man’s enlarged feet and realized that he was moshing around in his boots.

His blood soared to a boiling point.

“Take my boots off, you idiot!!!”

He shouted.

“Oh, these hefty ol’ things are yours?” Uzai chuckled. “I picked these up in the lost and found box on my way to the encampment! I must say—”

“Take them off.” Hanzo gripped his sword like a bat.

“Ok, ok, ok…” Uzai submit, bending down to remove them. “Calm down, Hanny boy. You should be happy your old man kept ‘em warm for you!”

“Shut up.” Hanzo retorted, snatching his boots away.

“So listen here, pal.” Uzai said, “That’s enough dilly dallying. It’s time to get back to your training!”

“Tell that to yourself, you cockroach.” Hanzo spat.

The unsightly duo went to the sea yet again to resume the lesson. The young warrior splayed his fingers and summoned his spirit from the core of his body but he wasn’t as focused as the first time.

He was bored and angry at just about everything. Angry at himself even.

And this old man wasn’t helping at all.

Lost in his own grand self wisdom, he closed his eyes and started doing weird flowing motions, almost as if he were dancing to quiet jazzy music.

“You must learn to become harmonious with the ocean. Bathe in its spirit. Only then will you be able to achieve the true water state. Remember, Hanny, you are not trying to control the ocean. You must let the ocean control you.

That is the secret that nobody tells you about water techniques.

Let your body be a container for the elixir and absorb every molecule into your skin until you become like…”

He lingered for a second, then snapped his fingers like an idea came to him.

‘Like Skeeter! Yes. Become like Skeeter and you will be able to throw tidal waves at people for no reason!”

Hanzo sent his eyes to the back of his head and held them there, meanwhile listening to the old goat bleat on about esoteric drivel.

He understood it but perhaps some physical, methodical instruction would be more effective. Was the old man’s mentorship even necessary at this point?

“Y’know Hanny.” He clucked. “You have a powerful epicenter and your meditation state is very immersive so if you play your cards right, you might be able to reach Naomi’s level in about...eight to twelve months.”

Hanzo grunted, occupying himself with the task at hand.

“Yup! That’s right!” Uzai exclaimed proudly. “Eight to twelve months! Heh! Now, Hanny boy, don't let it get to your head. I’ll have you know that this will be a bit more dangerous than ya think!”

“Ok.” Hanzo gritted his teeth.

“The ocean is a vast being and sometimes when an elemental practitioner tries to summon it, he may end up being summoned by it himself! No other element quite has this effect.

This is why we sometimes start our beginners off with something smaller, like a cup of water.”

The warrior was suddenly prone to get angry but he didn’t feel like breaking his concentration. Subsequently, he started to hear Uzai’s voice drift into the background ambiance.

Well, here goes nothing...

He felt his center of gravity shift into different areas of his body and couldn’t say for sure what exactly was going on.

He’d probably get sucked into the deep blue again but this time he’d know what he was getting into.

Or perhaps this was just a standard side effect.

He withheld his progress from his own consciousness and proceeded as if nothing happened, anticipating the moment he knew for certain that the element was his asset.

This lasted for some time. Long enough for the tide to rush around his ankles.

Before he knew it, he became largely unaware of the duration or anything else for that matter.

All feelings evaporated from his senses for what seemed like a brief period until his eyes flipped open and he realized he’d fallen asleep for who knew how long.

Crap. He hissed, looking down at his arms which had fallen limply to the side.

Uzai wasn’t there anymore and neither were either of their footprints, something Hanzo noticed subconsciously, adding an eerie undertone to the quiet atmosphere.

He couldn’t stand this place.

It was hard to tell if any of it was real considering the strange inconsistencies in location, time and physics.

It was real in the sense that he was experiencing it but he couldn’t tell how warped reality was from his limited perspective.

The sudden feeling that he was being watched rent his bones numb. At that very instant he turned around and saw Odyssey gazing down on him in stoic silence.

He stared back, masking how startled he actually was despite nearly expecting something like this to happen.

Seriously, who the hell was this guy?

“You know I can see you, right..?” Hanzo blinked.

The titan merely blinked back.

His rocky muteness was deeply unnerving but the young lad convinced himself that if he had anything to be genuinely concerned about, Odyssey could have made him piss himself empty if he wanted to.

“So you left me in an empty building for no reason just to come back a whole day later just to glare at me for what??”

“I didn’t tell you to leave, did I?” Odyssey droned.

“You didn’t tell me anything.” Hanzo said.

“Perhaps if you’d displayed a little forbearance, I would have returned with a more satisfactory method of instruction. But you went and blew out the window and escaped.”

“As if the last time you ducked off somewhere I didn’t spend the last two days getting pulverized on this god forsaken island!!”

The giant’s dull gaze travelled to the horizon as if he needn’t hear any more complaints.

“You mistake me for someone who has all the time in the world.”

It was now Hanzo’s turn to look utterly deadpanned. This hairless ape couldn’t be serious.

Is that why he dropped me here with this stupid old man?? He thought. Because he doesn’t have the time to train me?? What kind of irresponsible hack is this guy??

“Whatever, man…” Hanzo dismissed. “I guess since you’re here now, you oughta coach me with something.”

The giant said nothing but raised his hand. Hanzo watched the rotation of his sculpted forearm as his thumb and middle finger touched. Then he snapped his fingers and the scene changed abruptly.

Hanzo now found himself in the middle of the ocean at the brink of a rocky ledge with an arrangement of swords jammed into the surface, including his own.

He whirled around in a surge of madness.

“Warm me before you—”

Before he could finish his sentence he found the giant was gone.

A barreling wave swept through and burst into a humongous white mist as it struck the earthly obtrusion on which he stood.

Droplets zinged in a trillion directions, drenching his backside and causing his afro to leak like a sponge.

He spat trickles of water from his lips and turned around.

Stupid roach…

He reached for his sword and tried to draw it out of the ground but found that he couldn’t. Not as easily as the first time.

He jerked and pried the blade a couple of times but it simply refused to budge. Finally, he gripped the handle and put strength in his legs and pulled with all of his might.

It was no use.

The mighty sword was rooted like a tree.

It’s always something… he seethed.

Aggravated by his failing, he jerked and wrenched the handle violently, swearing under his breath until he was convinced Odyssey felt his vitriol from a hundred miles yonder.

He resorted to using spirit pressure to rip it loose or blow the rock to smithereens, neither of which had any effect, so he gave up and kicked one of the other swords off the ledge in a fit of anger.

The sheet of rusted metal spun out of sight as another wave burst open and showered the young warrior again.

In that rather calming moment, he took heed of the air around him.

His fro had gone silver from the beads of moisture settling after the brief storm.

The breeze was heavier out here.

Seagulls sailed the winds above sending out their wavering cries to one another.

Hanzo watched them for a minute.

Then he walked to the brink of the ledge and contemplated suicide.

By the end of it, he saw no purpose for such a thing.

He removed his boots and sat them beside his sword. The blade’s polished surface captured his reflection well enough for him to see the cuts and abrasions on his face.

He turned back to the sea again, stalling along the edge for a spell. Taking a deep breath, he filled his lungs, swayed his arms and jumped off without a second thought.

The warrior plunged into the ocean like a cannonball and sank until his momentum slowed, then he unfurled, suspended in the deep blue with his eyes closed as though asleep.

With all his senses flooded with water, the sound of his heartbeat was the clearest thing to him.

The rest was muffled, indistinct, scentless, blurry and tasteless.

As the seconds sprung by, he drifted in total silence with his fingers spread and his spirit pressure pulsing through his body.

It was hard to tell the source of this spiritual energy.

The farther he delved into his soul the less he discovered and the more distant he grew from himself. Sometimes he felt like he would implode if he kept doing that and it wasn’t very fun to think about these things for too long.

Existence was a ponderable thing but not so great when one becomes absorbed by a sea of dread.

Hanzo’s thoughts lingered here and there. He ventured from his own dark musings to old nostalgic music, dreamy countrysides, home and random drivel.

It took practice to silence the mind.

He thought of the ocean. He thought of himself as it.

Images of turbulence flashed in his head. He saw dramatic explosions of sea, warping columns of water slamming against each other, chaotic mists reaching hundreds of meters to converge into one giant spherical mass.

His imagination seemed to animate these scenes on its own accord which might have been natural if he hadn’t begun to grow numb from head to toe.

Every particle of his body, bone, muscle and skin felt overwhelmed by a vaguely brittle sensation, rendering him feeble and unable to swim to the surface to free his lungs.

He opened his eyes in alarm and tried to move his body.

Again, that same gravity sensation gripped his limbs.

He thrashed weakly. Bubbles dribbled through his lips as he fought to hold his breath.

His lungs soon caught fire despite his best efforts and his heart bashed against his rib cage, only feeding his panic.

Oh, come on...you can’t be serious…

His thoughts were relatively calm but he was drowning in anxiety. Soon he’d be drowning for real if his damn body kept functioning with the strength of a starving child.

The ocean currents riveted as if in response to his struggling.

He could feel it shift and throttle, as if working against him.

Now, anger started to settle in. What the hell is going on???

He merely coughed and swarms of fat bubbles lurched out of his chest. Water infiltrated his airways, clogging his orifices, dumping the last of his oxygen out. His entire body convulsed as his lungs sucked in more water mistaking it for the air he needed so desperately.

He felt himself sinking, losing consciousness, gasping for air but only swallowing gallons more water.

His legs gave out on him completely. His arms were useless.

There was nothing he could do. Nothing but watch the bubbles ripple and dance, desperately wishing he could join them on their flight.

All he wanted was to breathe again. Forget everything else. The crushing weight on his lungs was just too much to bear.

That’s right, Hanny. A calm voice crept through his subconscious. Don’t fight it. Just let it go. Channel your spirit pressure...You must become the ocean!

At first he thought he was having flashbacks but the old man’s voice was a bit too vivid in his mind.

If you had just done the Poké Maneuver like I told you, you would’ve gotten out of this a lot faster.

Hanzo convulsed again, one last time, gazing lifelessly at the serene display of distorted light on the surface.

Don’t die, Hanny! We’re just getting started, pal! Use your spirit pressure! Use your spirit pressure! Take control of the ocean Hanny! You can do it old pal!! I’m sorry about what I said earlier!! Just come on back! Just come on…

Uzai’s voice panned out of existence as Hanzo’s eyelids grew heavier and heavier until he could hold them no more.

And yet, somehow he forced them open after a long spell of dead silence. His irises flashed emerald and a surge of life invigorated his limbs.

The ocean exploded and blossomed into a dazzling current, hurling him free from his liquid prison.

He soared loosely through the air, reaching at least forty meters.

Uzai stood on the ledge watching him slip out of consciousness.

“Heh!” He said, palming his staff and nodding to himself while he thought deeply about things. A few seconds later he heard a sickening thud from behind him and turned around to see his disciple sprawled across the wet stone like a rag doll.

The old man blinked in confusion before he understood that the poor child had fallen from a terrible height and rushed to see if he was okay.

Hanzo writhed and coughed, purging water from his lungs.

Any attempt to inhale would be cut short by another violent burst.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Uzai shook his sorrowful head. “Poor Hanny’s come down with pneumonia.”

Suddenly, he had an idea. “I know! I’ll stir up some piping hot porridge! That’ll warm ya up!”

Just as he turned about to do his bidding, he saw a white, frothy trail stirred up by a speeding boat piloted by Naomi.

When she arrived she froze at the sight of Hanzo lying half dead and turned on Uzai with hostility.

“You idiot!!!”

“Now, now, Naomi…” Uzai protested but she wouldn’t allow him to speak.

“I told you to keep him away from here!!! This is my training ground!!!”

“You should learn to share!” He advised helpfully. “Being selfish isn’t nice.”

“Shut up!!” She said, stomping on the boy’s chest. Subsequently, she drew her sword and aimed the tip at Uzai, her voice hot with accusation.

“What were you teaching him?!”

Uzai looked puzzled by the question.

“You showed him the submergence technique didn’t you…”

She narrowed her eyes at the realization.

“Listen, Naomi…” the old man’s voice answered low and he averted his gaze as if something uncomfortable came over him.

“To tell the truth, I found Hanny standing at the edge of this rock with his arms tied up. He said he was tired of everything and then he jumped off and tried to drown himself. I know, it’s... hard to think such a strong young man would—would do that to himself.”

Uzai’s lip quivered as he looked up into the monuments of angelic white clouds floating gracefully abound. His eyes were misty and staring far off.

“All I ever wanted was for him to be happy…”

Hanzo jerked and wheezed, eyes rolling in an attempt to force them open.

You lying, rotten son of a whore.

He raged silently, robbed of his ability to speak.

Naomi slammed her foot on his neck, pinning the side of his head to the ground. He wriggled disproportionately, not even sure what configuration his body was splayed.

His efforts spawned another coughing fit and pain rocked his world and before he knew it, he fell unconscious again.