Cloud Dragon Emerges (4)

Santa Claude kept his promise.

And threw in a rather generous bonus on top of it.

He'd even arranged a temporary place for them to stay — a small corner of the rest stop's second floor.

"This isn't charity, you hear?! It's on credit! You little brat, why do you keep grinning? I told you I'm charging you for it!"

And so, Santa's Rest Stop gained a new set of lodgers.

A letter of recommendation and a temporary home.

With the necessities in hand, Ash and Akina settled into busy days from that point on.

The first order of business, naturally, was applying for their Pathfinder licenses.

Perhaps thanks to the letter of recommendation.

The application itself went off without a hitch.

But since the issuance would take time, Akina threw herself from then on into installing Ash's final component — his left arm.

Ash, for his part, did not sit idle either.

Drawing power from the electricity Santa provided, he recharged his body while laying the foundations of the Neuro-Mind Method in parallel.

It was a supply so clean and stable that the erratic current of the old waste-processing plant couldn't even compare.

So even electricity has its gradations, does it?

Another small enlightenment.

The harmony of active repairs and neural cultivation bore fruit quickly. The assembly and synchronization of the left arm advanced by the day — at a speed that left even Santa, watching from the sidelines, astonished.

The license.

The repairs and assembly.

The Neuro-Mind Method.

Busy days, one and all.

And then the time came — today.

At last, Ash possessed a complete set of limbs.

True, his two arms were of different makes, and his mismatched legs forced him to stand with a faint, lopsided lean — but what of it?

Compared to the days when only his head had floated aimlessly in the void, this was a difference of heaven and earth.

"Hyaah!"

Behind Santa's Rest Stop.

Ash took the junk-strewn lot as his training ground and swung his blade.

His aim was to narrow, as far as possible, the subtle gulf between the self he remembered and the self he now was.

The forms of the sword embroidered the empty air.

It was the swordsmanship of Kunlun.

A blade dance performed by a mechanical body creaked and faltered in places, yet the spirit and grandeur woven through it remained exactly what they had always been.

Kunlun's Daoists had cultivated this art as a path to the meditation of the mind, and so an ineffable loftiness and remoteness bled naturally into every motion —

never mind that the one wielding it was a humanoid stitched together from head to toe.

Clap clap clap!

As the blade dance drew to a close, the sound of applause rang out.

He turned to find Akina perched on the roof of the rest stop, clapping in his direction.

"Whooa! You look so cool, mister!"

Ash raised his voice module to a louder volume than usual.

"Ah, Miss Akina. When did you arrive?"

"Just a minute ago!"

"And the license?"

"Heheh!"

She flashed a grin and drew two gleaming cards from the pouch at her chest. Pathfinder licenses.

"Ta-daa! Pretty slick, right? Hold on a sec, I'll come down and show you up close!"

At her words, Ash sheathed his blade.

"No need. I shall come up."

"Oh? Then hurry up, okay!"

Watching Akina wave both hands with a radiant smile, Ash moved his feet faster than usual.

The moment he stepped onto the rooftop, the dazzling nightscape of Sanctum spread out before his eyes in a single sweep.

An endless sea of light.

Akina was sitting at its very edge.

"There you are."

Ash said nothing and walked to her side, settling into a cross-legged seat. The posture must have struck her as amusing, because Akina laughed for a long while.

"Here."

Akina held out one small card.

The Pathfinder license she had shown moments before.

Ash received it carefully, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠turning it over to examine both faces of the card.

"With this you can pass through the gates, use Pathfinder-only services, take jobs off the request boards — oh, and it doubles as a credit wallet, too. Basically your ID and your wallet in one, so don't you dare lose it."

Ash, who had been listening in silence, spoke.

"And yet — what is this 'Blade'?"

Eep.

Akina flinched.

"Aah. That? The form had separate fields for family name and given name, so I just improvised. Apparently they can reject the application if you leave it blank. And since you're so good with a sword, I wrote 'Blade' — what, you don't like it? Want me to change it?"

Ash shook his head.

"There is no need."

Then, after a brief pause, he spoke again.

"...In truth, it pleases me greatly."

Ash Blade.

Ash, and a blade.

It carried a rather fine flavor, did it not?

"Really? Hehe! I knew you'd say that!"

Relieved by his unexpected reaction, Akina laughed brightly. Privately, the arbitrary name had been weighing on her mind.

She chattered on for a while about the license's functions, then tucked the card away inside her jacket and turned her gaze back to the city lights.

"The ion storms are going to calm down soon. That'll probably be our first outing."

"You mean the 'active season'?"

"Yep. The active season."

Ash, too, put away the license ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and turned his eyes to the nightscape.

"When does it begin?"

"Hmm. I'd have to check the forecast to be sure, but earliest tomorrow, maybe the day after? You're ready for the Outer, right, mister?"

"Any time will serve."

"Hehe. That's reassuring!"

With those words, the two of them gazed at Sanctum's glittering night in silence for a while.

How much time had passed?

Suddenly, Ash spoke.

"Miss Akina."

"Yes?"

"Do you remember the day you awakened me?"

"Of course. So much has changed since then."

"Indeed it has."

"Why do you ask?"

"Did you not ask me for help?"

Akina turned her head.

Ash turned his as well.

"I did."

"Then what am I to help you with? Is that what the Pathfinder work is for?"

"No. That is merely the process. A means to an end."

"Then what is it?"

"Will you help me if I tell you?"

"Of course."

At Ash's resolute answer, it was Akina who was startled instead.

"You clearly said this, Miss Akina: that you would repair my body, and that when the repairs were done, I must help you. And today, the repairs were completed. I have two arms and two legs once more. So speak. Tell me — with what must the debt of my life be repaid?"

Akina managed an awkward smile.

"...But mister, you couldn't even understand me that first day, remember?"

"I could not. And so, I downloaded the unified language pack and cross-referenced my memories of that day."

"You did all that? Seriously, you're such a weird humanoid. Wasted words, too, and—"

"Miss Akina."

Ash's optical sensor fixed itself on her blue eyes.

"Is it something you do not wish to speak of?"

Akina flinched, ever so slightly.

"Or is it something you must not speak of? Something illegal, perhaps. A contract killing — someone you want dead? Or else..."

"Revenge."

Revenge.

That single short word split the stillness of the night.

The false emotions that had merely played across Akina's face drained away. What surfaced at last upon her features was a hatred — cold, and burning all the same.

"I want revenge."

"..."

Memories of a bygone age overlapped themselves across the girl's chilled face.

Heavenly Demon! I swear upon my life I will tear you apart! With these hands! With this blade! I will bring everything of yours crashing down! I will comfort the vengeful spirits of our sect!

The image of his younger self, proclaiming vengeance to the heavens and hurling everything he had at a single goal, superimposed itself over the girl before him.

The two were alike.

Fiercely, terribly alike.

So this is what it was?

Ash felt something powerful stir within him.

Something that felt like inevitability.

In his past life, he had abandoned everything for the sake of revenge — and in the end, he had taken countless lives and met his death in emptiness.

What punishment could be fitting for such a man?

Was he to stand beside this girl so like himself, and watch the whole of that journey unfold once more? To watch as it arrived, in the end, at ruin? Even — to help her along that road?

His main core filled with tangled thoughts, so much so that he failed to notice Akina rising from her seat.

"Hup-sha!"

Ash snapped back to himself and turned to the girl. Not the frigid mask from moments ago — but a somewhat awkward smile greeted him.

"I'm heading in now. You never know — the active season might kick off tomorrow. Gotta keep myself in tip-top shape!"

Akina stretched with exaggerated gestures and waved.

"See you tomorrow, then!"

With that short farewell, she was down off the rooftop before Ash could get a word out.

And so Ash was left alone.

Without a word, he gazed up at the dazzling lights of Sanctum, burning even now into the night.

The city's glow reflected off his cyan optical sensors, and faded, and reflected again.

A humanoid, seated in meditation, watching the city.

What thoughts churned within him at that moment, no one — not a single soul — could have known.

Akina's prediction hit the mark exactly.

The season when the ion storms subsided.

The active season had begun.

The next day.

The Central Hub of the Gateway District seethed with an endless tide of people.

Every last one of them a Pathfinder.

And so the atmosphere here was strikingly different from anywhere else in Sanctum.

Fighters bristling with every variety of cyberware. Figures wrapped head to toe in battered combat fatigues. And then there were those who'd strolled in bare-bodied, nothing but a cheap gun clutched in one hand.

Their appearances ran the whole gamut, but their eyes were one and the same — sharp, and precarious. A controlled violence coiled and twitched beneath the surface, and a dangerous aura hung thick around the Central Hub.

"Mister! Over here!"

Ash and Akina were woven into that crowd themselves.

And their appearances, too, were quite transformed.

Akina lugged an expedition backpack nearly as big as she was, and a low-recoil pistol was jammed into her waistband — every item of it 'credit' merchandise she'd wrung out of Santa by grinding him down without mercy.

Ash, likewise, looked nothing like his former self.

The so-called expedition wear — a black Gore-Tex cloak-coat falling to his ankles, and the steel blade strapped across his back.

The silhouette called to mind nothing so much as a wandering hero of the martial world.

Naturally, all of it was 'credit' merchandise extorted from Grandpa Santa as well.

"Next!"

Before the great steel gate.

A bored voice drifted out from behind the bulletproof glass of the booth. A civil servant in a uniform stamped with the [T.I.M.E.] mark — known to all as a 'Timeman'.

Ash and Akina stepped forward.

"Akina Greenwood. Ash Blade. Team of two. Exploration zone Level 1, Sector Gamma-7 — correct?"

Akina answered the mechanical questions with gusto.

"Yes!"

The Timeman glanced up briefly at her enthusiasm.

"Privately owned vehicle?"

"Nope!"

"Will you be using the municipal communal ground-limousine service provided by Sanctum?"

"Yes!"

"Seven thousand per person. Fourteen thousand credits total."

Akina silently pressed her license card to the terminal. A moment later, the terminal's indicator shifted to green.

"Payment confirmed. Please proceed to communal limousine number 302. Wishing all Pathfinders a safe journey, this has been Timeman James—"

A miraculous feat of vocal technique, the voice shrinking smaller with every word — until, by the end, it was barely audible at all.

"Next!"

Through the gate, Ash and Akina glanced around for a moment, searching out limousine number 302.

"Miss Akina. This way."

Ash led her into the depths of the hangar-like hub. In the distance, the number 302 'limousine' came into view.

Limousine in name only — in truth, it was closer to a rugged armored bus. The iron grating welded over every window and the steel-reinforced wheels were especially eye-catching.

Several Pathfinders were already seated inside.

Assaults who had seen it all and survived it.

A combat junkie plated head to toe in cyberware —

and even a man muttering something under his breath, over and over.

They gave the newly boarding Ash and Akina a brief once-over, then evidently lost interest and turned away.

They found their seats, and not long after, a mechanical announcement poured from the limousine's interior speakers.

"Attention, all Pathfinders. Communal limousine number 302 bound for the Outer, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Sector Gamma-7, will depart shortly. Please check all safety equipment. Once again — this limousine is bound for the Outer, Sector Gamma-7—"

A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠moment later, a heavy engine roar shook the hull of the bus.

"I-it's leaving!"

With a hushed gasp, Akina peered out the window. Ash turned his head to follow her gaze.

Armored limousines and private expedition vehicles by the dozen rumbled out from the main street in a chorus of engines.

Ash watched Sanctum's scenery flash past the window. At some point, the view outside was no longer the city at all.

An unknown expanse of ruins, where the ion storms had gone quiet.

They had emerged into the Outer.

Ash and Akina turned to face each other at the same moment.

"Right beside you, mister."

"And I beside you, Miss Akina."

Greenhorn Pathfinders.

And so, upon this land of death, their very first expedition had at last begun.