A Mountain of Corpses, a Sea of Blood (5)
"If I'm being honest with you, that is a very difficult thing to believe."
"I never claimed otherwise."
"Still, all the same — the master of an ancient civilization? That would mean you, young master, leapt clean over a thousand years and more. No human being can live that long, no matter what you—"
Suddenly, Zero looked at Ash.
He was not human.
He was a machine.
"...cannot live, but in your case, young master, I suppose the possibility cannot be entirely dismissed... ha, goodness, listen to what I'm saying right now..."
Ash spoke to the floundering Zero.
"How about this, then? The truth is, I came from a different world. A world without Sanctum, without cyberware, without Grotesques or Sentinels."
"Are you mocking me right now?"
"If it sounds that way, it's because I agonized over telling you at all."
Ash added, "But one thing I can say with certainty. The Cloud Dragon Thirteen Swords you learned — that is, without question, the sword art of Kunlun."
"Yes, I know. It's from Kunlun Combat."
"No. Not 'Kunlun.' Kūnlún."
"Kūnlún?"
"Kūn—... ah, forget it. Let's drop it."
The two swordsmen fell silent for a moment.
The damp wind of Underland passed between them, moaning low, and then Zero, having gathered his thoughts, finally spoke.
"For now... I will take the first answer on faith. That you, young master, are the master of an ancient civilization. Of the two, that one seems the more plausible."
"You believe me?"
"I do. You don't seem the type to jest about something like this. And frankly, for my own sake, it's enough that you are not one of Omnicell's pursuers."
Come to think of it, he did mention escaping from a research facility.
Ash, now grasping the rough shape of Zero's circumstances, nodded. "Do not worry yourself on that account. As I said before, Omnicell is as good as an enemy to me."
"...An enemy. If I may ask — why?"
"Vengeance. Though as of this conversation, I find I have gained another reason."
"Another reason? What reason might that—"
It was the very moment Zero moved to ask.
"Ash, sir!"
A quiet but urgent woman's voice rang out. Ash turned to find Siren emerging from the hideout, running toward them. Mid-stride, she caught sight of Zero's crimson eyes and flinched — then, apparently deciding that hardly mattered right now, she turned her face away and closed the distance.
"What is it?"
Siren, who had reached their side in an instant, held out the PDA in her hand to the two of them.
"Memoryphilia has started moving."
On the PDA's screen played a live feed, shot by someone's hidden drone. The location was Club Inferno — the plaza directly in front of it.
Gang members who appeared to belong to Memoryphilia were busily distributing something to the crowds gathered in the square.
Credit cards. Cheap-grade stimulants. Guns — even explosives.
Mercenaries and ninjas lined up in an endless queue, gathered their supplies, and filed into Inferno one after another. It looked for all the world like a conscription ground for an army on the eve of a great war.
"And it doesn't stop there."
Siren manipulated the PDA, and a different set of feeds appeared — security camera footage this time, covering Underland's major arteries. In every one of the split screens, Memoryphilia's armed forces were throwing up barricades.
"...They're cutting off the lines of retreat," Zero murmured.
At that, Ash asked, "Retreat from where, exactly?"
"Every position they're holding sits on a main route that must be passed to reach the surface levels. In other words — they are sealing Underland shut."
"Hm. Is Memoryphilia truly such an enormous organization, that it could lock down all of Underland?"
"They're big, but not this big. They must be dumping every credit they've been hoarding into this."
Zero reached into his breast pocket.
"All to take this back."
What emerged into his hand was the kill switch.
Ash's gaze passed between the device and the PDA's screen — then he lifted his head and looked at Siren and Zero. "Then it's time we moved as well."
Both of them nodded at once.
The hideout, its blue emergency lights blinking, had transformed in short order into an operations room thick with urgency. Onto the battered table at its center, Siren laid down a large data pad.
"Let's get the situation sorted. Ah — but first..."
Ash, who had been studying the hologram at the table, turned his head to the side. There stood three ninjas, looking somewhat awkward.
"So you're all awake. Any discomfort?"
At those words, the one standing in the center stepped forward. "No, sir. We are fine."
The masked ninja — Second — continued. "My younger siblings here cannot speak. They lost their vocal cords during the experiments... so I would like to offer thanks on their behalf, if I may."
"Of course."
At that, Second — and the two ninjas flanking him — bowed deeply from the waist, in perfect unison, their postures without the slightest trace of disorder.
"We were able to wake because of you, young master. Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts."
Ash gave a small nod. "Proper courtesy demands I return your greeting in kind, but as you can see, the situation is pressing. I ask for your understanding."
"Of course. Certainly."
"Then raise your heads. We have a next step to discuss."
The three ninjas quietly straightened and moved to take their places behind Zero. Ash regarded them for a moment, then turned back to Siren. "Give me the situation, precisely."
She pointed at the holographic map spread across the table and laid it out rapidly. "Personnel converging on Inferno number over a hundred by rough estimate. Mostly mercenaries with dollar signs in their eyes, but a considerable number of hardened ninjas are mixed in as well."
While Siren spoke, Zero enlarged a live feed hovering beside the hologram — the plaza before Inferno. His finger picked out two figures that stood apart from the crowd.
"Two of their senior officers are gathering at Inferno as well."
The first man Zero indicated was a hulking middle-aged figure in a battered exploration suit. Apparently deaf to the commotion around him, he had strolled into Inferno kneading the breast of the woman clinging to his side.
"That's Jack Five. A retired Pathfinder. These days he handles Memoryphilia's 'security.'"
Zero's finger moved to the next figure — a woman in a black dress, unmistakable for the reverse-joint cybernetic prosthetics beneath it.
"Aria?"
Siren breathed the name as she stared at the feed.
"You know her?"
"Ah — not personally. It's just that she's a famous ninja in Underland."
Her eyes still on the hologram, Siren went on. "There's probably no one in Underland who doesn't know the name Aria. 'A murderous lunatic — but her skills are beyond doubt.' Something along those lines."
"You're well informed, young master."
At Zero's remark, Siren turned toward him — then flinched involuntarily at the sight of his crimson eyes. "Yes, well... I didn't realize she was still active, though."
"Aria currently serves as Maestro's personal bodyguard. Bought with credits, most likely. Or else... her memories were altered."
Zero went on singling out figures one by one, reciting intel on the key players. Most of them, it turned out, were ninjas operating in Underland.
The intelligence piled up piece by piece. The enemy's numbers: more than a hundred. And among them: named powers, gathered under one roof.
"And Maestro himself?"
At Ash's question, Zero pointed to the very top of Club Inferno. "The highest floor — the VIP lounge called the Room of Contemplation. That is Memoryphilia's heart. I've never set foot inside, so I can't swear to it, but the signal amplifier is very likely there as well."
"I see."
"That's the rough picture. So..."
Zero said, offhandedly, "What would you like to do?"
"Hm?"
At the pointed tone, Ash looked up at Zero — who was gazing back at him, his crimson eyes gleaming in a way that sat ill with the moment. Even Siren was doing the same, her bright eyes fixed on Ash expectantly.
"...Why are you both staring at me like that?"
"Are you using a broadcast again this time? Or, well — Restman?"
Ash understood at once why they were looking at him with such glowing anticipation. Evidently the decoy operation he'd run before had left quite the impression.
But, as if to betray their expectations, Ash lowered his head. "Facing an enemy who has made every preparation, as they have now — that is no small matter."
"Ah... so it's out of the question, then."
"I have, it is true, faced enemies like that before—"
"There it is!"
Siren beamed. "Let's do that!"
"You didn't even hear the rest."
"It's your plan, Ash, sir, isn't it?"
Zero picked up where she left off. "What is the plan?"
Ash stroked his jaw for a moment, then let out a low electronic hum. "It's hardly worth calling a plan..."
His cyan optical sensors flared to life.
"Call it... the way of the Central Plains."
The way of the Central Plains.
At that enigmatic phrase, everyone in the room stared blankly from face to face.
The main gate of Club Inferno.
The Memoryphilia guard posted before it yawned again and again. Not because he was bored — quite the opposite, in fact.
Fuck, how much more of this is coming?
Mercenaries and ninjas poured in without end. Screening them, handing out supplies, waving them through — the work was relentless, with no breathing room in sight. By now the man was exhausted past all measure.
He glanced around, then casually leaned his body against the steel door. A crooked posture, as always, was the most comfortable one.
And then he noticed something.
Far off in the darkness of Underland, a single thread of light.
"The hell is that?"
Squinting, he made out what looked like vehicle headlights. Apparently someone else had smelled money and come running.
But something was wrong.
What was wrong was the speed at which the light was approaching.
"Hey! You see that? Why the hell is it going that fast?!"
At his shout, several of the nearby guards turned their heads. To their eyes, too, the oncoming vehicle's speed was goddamn abnormal — a light no bigger than a single point swelling into a massive shape in the span of a single blink.
"Huh? Wh—what—"
The vehicle finally revealed itself. And it was no ordinary vehicle. A full-custom armored transport, its entire body sheathed in steel plate to survive the deadly crossing of the Outer.
By the time anyone identified it, it was already far too late.
— KRA-KOOOOOM!!
The armored vehicle — the Revenant — tore through Inferno's main gate like so much paper and crashed into the interior.
"What the— what the fuck is that?!"
Amid the roar, the shockwave, and the flying shrapnel, the guards went tumbling every which way. The lobby descended into chaos in an instant.
And at the very center of that chaos, the Revenant's rear hatch swung open.
The first to step out was a humanoid figure draped in a black exploration suit. Five more followed — four masked ninjas and a beautiful woman.
Six in all.
Every one of them carried a sword.
As the six swordsmen who had appeared without warning swept their surroundings with sharp, killing intent, the one standing at their center — Ash — let out a low electronic hum.
"Well then. Let's begin."
At those words, every blade came free of its sheath.
The way of the Central Plains that Ash had spoken of was this:
A frontal assault.