Last One Standing by Mike Loader Prologue ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Please allow me to introduce myself I'm a man of wealth and taste I've been around for a long, long year Stole many a man's soul and faith Pleased to meet you! Hope you guess my name! But what's puzzling you Is the nature of my game... - The Rolling Stones It waited. 'It' was the best pronoun possible for the being. Male, female, those were concepts that didn't mean much to it anymore. It barely remembered being human, once, long ago. It had been mortal then. Now, however, it was something far more. And far less, but the trade was more than fair. It had power, and that was worth the loss of a few minor emotions, a few human joys. Power was emotion and joy enough. Not that mortals were incapable of wielding power. They made wonderful tools. Some rare few were even dangerous. And an even rarer few were both dangerous and knowledgeable. It remembered the day it had found this place in Nerima, studied the lines of power and destiny, and settled down to wait. The veils were weaker here. Fitting, for it knew the district well. It had dwelt here of old. They came. Even younger than it had expected, they came. And the one called Saotome Ranma shone like a star. It had immediately cast its net for the boy. With some success, slow and gradual. There was so much to work with, such latent power... And then things had gone poorly. Because another mortal had arrived on the scene, and taken the boy under her protection. A very dangerous mortal, and a knowledgeable one. She didn't know what the being was, but she knew enough. And had made a covenant with him. That covenant went like this: leave the boy alone, or be driven from this plane. It hadn't liked it. But it hadn't had much of a choice, and it had gotten a promise out of her to turn a blind eye to its other dealings. The kind of promise that you couldn't break easily. For a long time, it had hoped the dangerous mortal would abandon her interest in the boy. But that didn't seem to be happening. If anything, the bond between them got tighter. And now it was painfully aware that the boy would probably be out of its reach forever if things continued this way. It had come here for a purpose. That purpose would be fullfilled, one way or another. Even if it wasn't in the way it would have chosen. *** Kodachi sat upright in bed, and screamed. The dreams, she thought dimly, forcing her breathing to come back under control. The dreams again. Getting worse. Worse every night. Shaking slightly, she fumbled for the bottle of pills on her bedside table. The doctor had told her they would help, and sometimes they did. The dreams would go away, and she could sink back into peaceful, visionless slumber... She wished Ranma were with her. Then maybe the dreams would go away. Swallowing a tablet, Kodachi sunk back into bed, pulled up the covers, and waited for sleep. *** Ryouga handed Akane a teacup. "I love you," Akari told him, accepting the offered cup with a smile. Ryouga blushed, and Akane... Akari?... giggled. The picnic was one of the nicest he'd ever had, and he was disappointed to cut it short by waking up. With a wistful sigh, he made a mental note to picnic there again - this time, in real life. *** Ukyou muttered, sighed, and rolled over in bed. In her mind, she was talking to Ranma. He was battered and bruised from something, worried, but she kissed him and his face lightened. She kissed him again, and again, and then he held her. She smiled slightly as he tightened his embrace. And then something reared up behind him, black and dreadful, and shoved a katana through his chest. Ukyou screamed as blood spurted, and then the blade passed through Ranma's body and into hers with a stab of agony... Her eyes shot open. For a long time, she stared at the ceiling, unwilling to go back to sleep. *** Kuno smiled. He was the hero, as always. With a happy mutter, he slumbered on. *** In a bedroom by the sea, a lean, angular figure tossed and turned, remembered pain and humiliation sweeping through her dreams, whispering a message to her fitful mind. It is time, the sirens purred. You have waited long enough, and it is time. "Yes," she muttered. *** Shampoo ran through room after room, looking for something. Where was it? It was important... "Make use of what comes to hand," Cologne said, chiding. "You never know what might be useful. Or who." "What do you mean?" Shampoo asked, confused. But her great-grandmother was gone, and she was falling, falling... The ground rushed up at her, and then she stopped with a jerk. A fishing line, barbed hook attached to it, had snared the back of her shirt. "Never know who you can use, never know who your friends are, never know what might be useful, never know who may be your ally, never know who may be your enemy...." "WHAT DO YOU MEAN?" she screamed. Then the line snapped, and the ground again flew at her, faster, faster, and she shrieked.... And sat up. Frowning, wiping the sweat off her forehead, Shampoo went back to sleep. *** In a forest, his head pillowed on a bear's pelt, Mika the Raven slept. He had a nightmare. "Nice try," he said, and shot it. *** Akane watched as the new girl, Ranma, squared off in the dojo. She would go easy on her at first; Ranma seemed a bit shy. Her first attack was effortlessly brushed away. So was her second. Akane ran forward, kata after attack after feint pouring out of her. She used every attack she could think of, even managed to raise a small ball of ki to blast at the newcomer with. Ranma looked bored. "Clumsy," the new girl pronounced. Kasumi and Nabiki nodded agreement. "Very clumsy. Take good care of her. She's helpless." "I am NOT!" she screamed back, preparing another attack. Ranma smiled unpleasantly. "Cheh, ugly chick. Why don't you just get the hint and leave me alone?" He darted at her. Akane hands raised to block, and then his foot slammed into the side of her neck. There was a horrible snapping sound, and she felt herself crumple. "See?" she dimly heard him say as she choked, trying vainly to breathe through her crushed throat. "Do you see now, Akane?" Her lungs were on fire, she couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, blood was choking her... "Do you finally see?" Akane bolted upright, a strangled sob ripping free from her mouth. It was a long time before she went back to sleep. *** Ranma watched Akane writhe on the ground in front of him. "Do you finally see?" he repeated. Akane stared at him, blood pouring from her mouth, eyes horrified and confused. There was blood on his foot. He had broken her neck with a swift five-stance flying kick. He had learned it when he was eight. Akane gave a final, bubbling gurgle, convulsed, and then was still. Ranma walked over to her, knelt beside her. "Do you see?" he repeated. "I love you. Why can't you see?" Her eyes stared, glassy and still, at the moonlight. Had he just killed her? What had he just done? Akane? He stumbled backwards, shrieking. There was blood on his hands, on his feet, Akane's blood, he killed her.... Ranma bolted upright, a strangled sob ripping free from his mouth. It was a long time before he went back to sleep. *** It stirred and rose, then, in the fortress of shade and shadow rising from the black-on-grey-on-white of the Gloaming, the photographic negative of the mortal world. It mirrored the sunlit Nerima, save in the places where the being's will had altered it. The real Nerima didn't have a twisted citadel looming above it, towers and battlements clawing towards the sky. For the Gloaming was less static than the world of mortals, more responsive to the demands of those with power, and the dark hold of Spiredeep had been raised in an instant from the blueprint of the being's soul. It strode through the halls and corridors, past the trembling servants that it had pressed into service. Some were natives of the shadow realm, some had been captured and wrenched from other planes, and a rare few were mortals, trapped in an unending nightmare. Pitiful things, but useful. If nothing else, the delicious sense of fear that they exuded filled the citadel with a atmosphere pleasant to the being. The path it took was followed by other eyes, too. Black shapes slipped to and fro, using the ceilings as highways and the walls as alleys, for Spiredeep had been built to a geometry that would have disturbed MC Escher. There were the servants, who were there to be afraid. And then there were the soldiers, who where there to inspire fear. It had built them, too; formed them from the stuff of the Gloaming or fused a hapless being into a more suitable form. It swept down endless stairs - truly endless, for it was a simple trick to build in the infinite, here in the Gloaming - and emerged at a chamber at ground level. Formed an image in its mind. Projected, pierced the veil. Stepped, with a part of its essence, into the mortal world. It looked around the room it found itself in, the comfortable, sunlit, cheery room, smiled slightly, and walked out to stand on the porch. Ranma soon strolled past, as it had known he would, shopping bag full. "Hi, Ranma!" it said in an easy, familiar fashion, smiling, once more eying the ebb and flow of his ki with a covetous hunger. Such a potential slave... Ranma grinned back, and waved. No, Ranma was now no-one's slave. His will was too strong, his confidence too absolute. And now he was dangerous, at least in this world. The being could tear his soul to shreds with a thought if they both stood in the Gloaming, but in the sunlit Nerima Ranma had the edge. For now. Soon. Very soon. Maybe this one would be even better...