Dragon Scroll Quest

The teal Egyptian cotton sheets slid over her bare legs as the sun rose over the mountain-top, streaming into the open doors that led out onto the balcony attached to the back of her and Kaz's bedroom. Shifting onto her elbow, the young assassins eyes drifted over him, taking a moment to marvel at him, at this, at what they were building and to immerse herself in how truly happy and carefree she was for the first time since she had left Kyoto at the age of seventeen.

Doing her best not to disturb his rest she slid out of bed and made her way over to the dresser where she picked up a pair of skinny jeans from the day before and pulled them up her legs. With a disregard for her appearance, she left on her over-sized Boston Police Department sweatshirt and secured her hair on top of her head.

Closing the heavy wooden door gently behind her, she pulled her iPhone from her pants pocket and checked the time. 7:30 AM, as good a time as any to start the day. Her bare feet padded across the cool wooden floor as she descended the circular staircase from their wing of the lodge before traversing the hallways and ending up at the massive wooden kitchen table. Before her were reams of paper and a tablet with more documents, all of which were relevant to her research regarding the fabled Dragon Scroll.

First hearing whispers of this supposedly mythical artifact during her first tenure in Kyoto at the age of seventeen, the curious assassin had picked up her research upon their return and many avenues had proved to be dead ends, but a mere week ago, one had proved to be more than fruitful. From there, she'd continued pursuing leads until she had everything she needed. Sensing the approach of somebody from behind her body tensed before the smell of Kazarian's cologne seeped into her senses, putting her entirely at ease. Stepping up behind her, he rested his hands on her shoulders, kneading gently as he peeked over her shoulder at the papers.

Handing one to him she waited as he read it over and quickly ascertained what it was that she had in store. "You think this actually exists?" Placing the paper down on the table in front of her, he took a seat in the chair kitty corner from her.

"Everything I've seen and heard says that it does. What's to lose trying to figure it out, yeah?" It was time to gather the squad. A group of people, all of whom had been handpicked because of their dark and sometimes disturbing pasts. Cassidy needed incredibly skilled people and people who were willing to push the edge of what others viewed as moral, but at the same time, people who had strong moral compasses and the will and fervor inside of them to be better people. Everybody here fit that description and she was proud to call them her team.

Connecting telepathically with Claire, the woman who over the course of the last year or so had quickly become her best friend and perhaps her closest confidante, Cass requested that she show up downstairs in the ridiculously spacious kitchen (a requirement upon the construction of the base) five minutes before the rest of the team. Quickly sending out a communication to the devices that all members had been equipped with, Cass stretched her arms over her head, cracking her knuckles as she did so. It was time to get things rolling.

Twenty minutes later she sat on the edge of the granite counter, the very picture of relaxed confidence, Cass held in her hand a stack of papers, one for each team member who had been called in for a somewhat impromptu meeting and briefing. The sun was rising in the bay window behind her, illuminating her from the back as Kaz stood next to her, his arms jauntily crossed over his chest as he propped his hip against the counter.

"There's an item known to some as the Dragon Scroll. It's a mystical artifact from ancient Japan. At one point, there were rumored to be thirteen in existence. All have dropped off into being myth and legend, all save for one. All the research that I've conducted says that there is one housed within the cavern system in this very mountain. It's my intent to find it. This'll be our first mission and it should be a run of the mill retrieval operation. That being said, bring your weapons and equipment, we never know what's in store for us, especially when there's a mystical artifact involved. Be ready to go in one hour." With that she dismissed the crew and began gathering up her research and crafting plans and strategies for possible outcomes in her head.

Daylight crept through the blinds. As it did, it began to illuminate pieces of the room. One ray revealed the sight of a table covered in loaded firearms. Another highlighted a half-opened fridge. It was almost completely filled with a varied assortment of alcohol. The next found itself discovering a nightstand. On it was an opened bottle of painkillers, and a slightly damaged cellphone. Finally, the light found the room's occupant. A burly man, clad in a black shirt and olive-colored pants. He even had boots on.

There was a disheveled look was about his face. The skin around his bright emerald eyes was baggy and reflected a soul that had not slept in days. A single jagged scar ran diagonally across the left eye, starting at the bridge of his nose and running up through his eyebrow. His lips were chapped and split, indicating a severe lack of hydration. Both hands twitched continuously. At times, they even shook. The muscles on his arms were tensed up, as if ready for a fight.

Emptily, he gazed at a picture across from him on the wall. It was a group of soldiers. S.E.A.L.S., to be specific. Each one of them had nervous, yet excited grins on their faces. Two in the front had their arms around a shorter, but heavily muscled man. Sergeant Ronald Harlow. To his left was Private Jake Thompson. A bony-faced man with bright orange hair, and a smile so bright that if the sun went out that day, it'd light up the sky all on its own. The poor kid had left behind two little brothers when he died. To the right, one Corporal Marcus O'Doherty. Mean-lookin' guy. Tall, heavy muscles, short black hair. The smile on his face was slightly less genuine, but it was still there.

All but one man in that team had died. The very man sitting on that bed, staring at that picture. That man with the haunted face, and the broken features. His hand raised a shot glass to his lips, and as he did.. it was revealed that the little finger on his left hand was missing entirely. One of many things he'd given up in his line of work. Tilting the glass back, he let the bitter fluid slide past his lips. It took but a second to empty it, another two to extend his arm to the side and set the glass on the nightstand.

Slowly, but surely, a sound registered next to him. A sharp, electronic beeping sound. It took him back for a moment. Reminded him of every time he'd set off a charge. Heard that brief beep as a door breach was initiated The smell of wood splintering through the air reached his nostrils, then a door slamming back. Gunfire. A window shattered in the room behind the door, boots landed on carpet. More gunfire. Then, silence.

One hand grabbed the communicator he'd been given, and his tired eyes read the message. Slipping it into his pocket, he rose to his feet. Walking to the table littered with weapons, he picked up a sidearm. Slipping it into the holster on his thigh, he went to reach for a knife. After a few moments, he had a basic kit on him. Nothing of the likes for a mission, but just what he carried around from day to day.

Opening the door, he stood for a moment. His eyes adjusted to the light. After a few moments, he made his way to the room where their leader was waiting. He'd gotten glimpses of her before, but nothing in detail. Red hair, beautiful looks. But the man was not interested in that. Grabbing the folder that was handed to him, he took a seat in the corner of the room. While she talked, he examined the folder's contents. It held data, charts, historical background, the works. The woman was thorough, arguably as much as Abrams was.

Slowly, the man nodded. He hadn't said a word the entire time, and didn't say word when he stood up and left. An hour was more than enough.

The sun had just began to rise in Japan and the beautiful array of pinks and oranges filtered through the blinds of Madison's room. As the light became more vibrant and strong she decided it was time to rise out of bed. After standing up she checked the time on her i-Phone, it was just after 5:00 so Madison decided it would be best for her to go on a morning jog in her new surroundings. After making the choice to run she glided across the floor to her corner piece armoire, as she opened the doors light reflected off of the interior mirrors onto Madison's almost bare skin, her dark brown hair fell in loose waves near the middle of back and moved in an undulate manner as a small breeze blew threw the open window. She reached for the nearest pair of yoga shorts and a jogging bra, grabbed her phone and was on her way, she stepped on to the balcony where the view stopped her in her tracks, beautiful fields and bamboo forest for miles, only a few birds lightly chirping, it was so serene, as if it was torn from a picture book.

Madison leaped of the balcony and began to run in the direction of the wilderness, however on her way she paused, she stumbled upon a garden, the garden had a small reflecting pool and was surrounded by sand and rocks, it had a feeling of calm and seemed a perfect place to try meditating for the first time. Madison took off her shoes and stepped into the sand and felt as the warm grains filled in between her toes, she walked to a rock, sat down, and closed her eyes, she tried to clear her mind and for a second she did. But she could not hold it faces of past victims filled her mind, she felt no remorse for killing them, she just wish she hadn't killed some of them for the wrong reasons. The faces kept appearing and Madison thought it was time to put on her shoes and continue on her way.

After a failed attempt at meditation, running was even more calming than usual, after exiting a side gate it became obvious that the house was very high up on the mountain, a path ran back and forth winding down the side for what seemed like forever. Madison was very impatient and began leaping down off the trail, she ended up still on the mountain, but a lower lever and as she hit flat surface her pace did not break, she held on to her momentum and continued barreling through the bamboo forest. The green stalks of the trees blurred past, lost with the sounds from the birds.

The birds chirping became more and more noisy as the five foot nine beauty continued to run, louder and louder, until she broke into a clearing, the clearing was just some grass surrounded by thick walls of bamboo. The birds were all too silent, then it began, the sounds were no longer chirping they were an indescribable sound that was extremely painful until Madison's ears adapted to the noise, after the audible assault birds shot from the trees, they dove left and right, scraping and cutting Madison's skin, she broke a piece of bamboo and began to fight the birds back. Time slowed down as it has before, she must be going through a metamorphosis because recently her ability to adapt was becoming much stronger, and as time slowed she stabbed and swiped, within seconds the birds lay dead on the ground, but as Madison approached the birds she discovered they were not birds at all.

They seemed to be a hybrid between a bird and something else, there were spikes on their backs, and their colors were vibrant reds, blues, greens, and yellows, if she didn't know any better Madison would say it was a cross between a bird and a dragon. Clueless as to what they were, she reached to pick one up with the hopes that somebody back at base could identify it, but has her fingers barley brushed the feathers of one and then they all disintegrated into different bright colors of dust, some looked like gold dust, some ruby dust, sapphire dust, and emerald dust. That was not the end though, all the dust lifted and shot through the trees, Madison promptly broke the trees to find a cave with an engraving of dragons and Japanese characters that she could not read. She entered the cave and just as her eyes adjusted to the dark her phone rang, she had to go back to the base for a meeting.

Upon arriving at the base she took a quick shower and changed into a light summer dress because she was still warm from the shower, she walked into the kitchen to see all of her new teammates they all looked intriguing from a beautiful red head to a man with a facial scar and a missing finger, despite the diversity they all seemed to have one thing in common, they all had the spirit of killers, you could feel it, almost see it in the air that this was a highly trained group of people who were not to be reckoned with. The mission was assigned and Madison returned to her room to prepare, she wondered if the mission had anything to do with what she had just found. She would bring it up next time the deadly group was all together again.

She could feel the warm rays of sunlight against her stubborn eyelids, convincing them to open for the first time today. Claire Swanepoel's ice blue eyes were greeted by a violet rose resting on her nightstand, the flower bringing a shy smile to her face and giving her the energy to sit up in her inviting white sheets. With a small yawn she ran her fingers upward through her silky blonde hair, letting it fall back down and cascade untamed around her alluring face and past her shoulders. She swung her long legs over the side of the bed before pushing off to stand at her full stature. Reaching upward in the first stretch of a new day, her back arched to reveal her body's sensual figure. Goosebumps crawled over her flawless bare skin, causing her to reach into her closet for a white silk robe. She fastened the loose robe around her tiny waist tightly before pushing open the doors that lead out to her room's personal balcony. Folding her arms over her chest the sublime supermodel watched daylight wash over the forest outside, the raw light giving the entire scene a fresh glow that enhanced ever color and texture of the lush jungle.

It was during her gaze over Kyoto's natural beauty that Claire wondered how joining Dark Legacy would affect her life. She knew she would have to sacrifice her more -- villainous habits, but she often questioned whether she could. Causing strife and mayhem, bringing suffering and pain, manipulating others to her will -- they had always been lifelong pleasures. But now she found herself on a team fighting against the exact activities she so often reveled in. Could someone with a history like her own ever really change? Her red tainted past wasn't, and never would be, something she was ashamed or guilty of. However as her thoughts continued to drift they landed on some of her closest friends. Not one to trust willingly or feel any inclination to consider the thoughts and emotions of anyone anyone other than herself, Claire had a small list of exceptions. People like Cassidy, the twins, Madison -- even Jean ran through her mind. She knew that, for the time being, her mischievous ways would have to be used for the greater good.

As her internal debate came to a close, a new conversation started within her head. A telepathic message from Cassidy notified Claire of the meeting that would be happening in the kitchen shortly. Returning to her bedroom she threw on a skinny pair of rag & bone jeans and a thin, loose fitting white long sleeve, adding some dangling jewelry and slipping her iPhone in her pocket before making her way to the kitchen. While passing through the now memorized hallways, she played with her hair just long enough to leave it presentable as she entered to kitchen where Mercy and Kaz awaited with a multitude of papers.

With the rest of the team would arriving shortly, Claire used her allotted amount of time to glide through the kitchen and scan the various documentations on the Dragon Scroll while preparing a cup of coffee. She had never heard of the mysterious scroll, most likely due to the discrepancies between Japanese mysticism and the rest of the world. She had long ago learned that, while fundamentally the same, Asian magic and myths had a slightly different "flavor" to them. Just as the rising steam filled her nostrils with rich scented warmth, team members began filling into the kitchen as the meeting began. Settling at the kitchen table, choosing the seat closest to where Cassidy sat on the counter and next to Kalliste, she listened intently to the brief mission statement. With their goal clarified, Claire left along with the rest of the team to prepare for the spontaneous expedition.

Sunlight was just creeping through the open doors leading onto his balcony when a quiet beeping noise stirred the slumbering assassin from sleep, raising up in the blink with surprising speed the recently revived merc pointed one of his spectral handguns, a perk of being the Horseman of Strife, in the direction of the noise only to realize it was his team comm. Climbing out of bed rubbing his eyes as he strolled across the room to see what was up, glancing at his watch, a weathered Luminox dive watch that he'd had since his days as a SEAL, 8 AM... later than he usually slept but not like there was anywhere he needed to be. Quickly reading the message he smirked, Cass wanted everyone down in the kitchen for a meeting. "Yes mom..." he chuckled as he walked to the sink and quickly shaved and brushed his teeth, his hair kept short enough that it wasn't an issue.

Dropping to the floor and perform several dozen one armed push up with each arm out of habit by heading for shower.

Ten minutes later he stepped out of his room, clad in jeans and a simple gray t-shirt with 'NAVY' in black block lettering the mouth merc made his way into the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. and taking a seat on a stool, chatting with the other members of the tea, who had already arrived until everyone had gathered.

Listening intently to the briefing, having learned a long time ago that the devil was in the details... Cass mentioned that the cave this 'Dragon Scroll' she was after was in a cave somewhere on the very mountain their base stood on.

"If only everything was that convenient..." chuckling softly, drawing a look from Cass of faux irritation for him interrupting the brief. "Sorry Cass..." smiling sweetly at the ginger grenade, causing her to smile and shake her head, knowing if the resurrected assassin went five minutes without a word in edgewise his head would probably explode..

She continued on saying it would probably be a run of the mill recovery op, but still bring full weapons and gear and be back in an hour.

"Gotcha, Mystical Items involved. I'll be sure to bring my twenty sided dice and magic wand."

Smiling as he and the rest of the team rose from their respective seats to prepare for the upcoming mission.

Walking back to his room and closing the door behind him the Horseman changes into dark gray fatigue pants and a black t-shirt, a combat harness for his gear. He never wore body armor, he didn't need it.

Placing his beloved matte black .45 in a shoulder holster with several magazines in pouches, the rune cover Spectral handguns he'd been give as per his role as Strife, a long bladed knife was slid into a sheath strapped to his leg, with a razor sharp katana slung over his back, with several grenades topping off his arsenal.

Meeting up with the others he looks around at his new teammates "So let's get this party started shall we..."

A drop of crimson blood crawled precariously down his pronounced brow, frightened eyes darting back and forth beneath. Whimpers escaped his dry lips like imprisoned convicts, cutting the air apart with their fear. The entwined scratches and cuts across his face seemed to look as if thousands of feral bats had assaulted him, showing him no mercy. His hair was mottled with blood and despair, flowing tears stinging his wounds harshly. His erratic, thudding footsteps failed to block out the sound of his ragged breathing, only aggravated by his gasps and his sobs. The stench of his sour, staling sweat mixed with the grime smeared across his being was unbearable, his scent easily identifiable.

You cannot run. You are mine.

The man spun around, a scarlet shadow towering over his naked, battered frame. Pitch black smoke seemed to emanate from the crimson-clad creature's eyes and mouth, contaminating the air with it's toxic thickness. The timid 27 year old cowered weakly, raising his hands to cover his head, arms quivering pathetically. The shadow's fumes burst from it's face in a sudden cloud of darkness, thousands of hisses sounding out around the man, threatening him, cursing him, dooming him.

You will die at my hand. I will kill everything you know. The Dark Legacy will fall, even before it has arisen. You are nothing. You are nothing. You are nothing.

The man tripped over an invisible object, falling to the unnaturally coloured ground, his spine bursting open and tainting the ominous surroundings with it's blood, coursing from his defeated body like a cascade of never ending water. He opened his mouth to cry out, to scream in affliction, to seek aid, anything. Anything. The shadow loomed in, it's smoky eyes seeming to bore right into his soul, gnawing on it's edges with savage hunger and blood-lust, more than prepared to rip it to shreds with the ferocity of a Hell-hound.

You are mine. You are nothing. You will fall. You are mine. You are nothing. You. Will. Fa-

"AH!"

Albert Daxx's scarlet eyes snapped open, his slender muscled body brimming with sweat, shaking anxiously. His teeth chattered fearfully as his mind reeled, recovering weakly from the horrendous nightmare, the disturbing spell broken only by the beeping of his communication device. He blinked furiously, struggling to banish the dark images from his head. Sitting up slowly, carefully, wary of his own bodily control. He reached out a quivering arm, tapping at the device to cease it's incessant alarm. Then he grabbed at the towel nestled beside his bed, wiping away at his body as he rose, doing his best to make his crimson-skin acceptable for his team-members. His unnatural form might disturb them but he doubted it, they were all anomalous beings, each with their own damaged roots. Albert paused suddenly, disappointedly acknowledging the painful scratching at the corners of his mind, the inhibited demon savouring his slumber-time victory. He clenched his jaw bitterly and willed it away, continuing his routine, which involved a Christian prayer, begging for salvation. He had performed this action everyday for the past few months since the bondage, doing his greatest to rid himself of this other-worldly entity conjoined to his soul.

--

The Midknighter sat quietly in at the back of the room, shying away from the rest of the group, keeping to himself. He had already encountered the Unknown Soldier, an equally disturbed mercenary with an unhealthy taste for alcohol and sarcasm. The men shared inner conflicts. Albert had only met the team leader, Mercy, once before. She had offered him a spot on this mysterious team, giving him the chance to use his dark abilities for the good of mankind. He had accepted. It was either this or the death and destruction of hundreds at his possessed hands. He listened intently to the briefing, keeping his hands folded in his lap, seeming for all the world a timid demon. As the other team-members began to filter the room, he stayed. He had no equipment or gear, just the skin on his body and the monster in his head.

He had all he required.

Stealthily Kazarian had slipped out during the meeting, not out of disrespect, but caution. Somewhat arrogant in his believe that if there were any signs of danger within the labyrinth style cave system he would be the first to confront it saving his teammates from any unnecessary confrontations. Proactively taking the initiative of safety for the newly formed group of run and gunning up and comers who, despite their short time together, had grown close with a family oriented atmosphere. Cassidy's open heart and methodical mind creating a home for those she held dear trying to walk a new path void of the hate filled teachings of an assassin, replacing it with the innovative notion of change and revitalization.

Utilizing his acrobatic parkour abilities the Last Arashikage maneuvered through the treacherous terrian aided by his almost slipper like hiking shoes that allowed his feet unprecedented flexibility. Gripping and clinging to the moss coated rocks deep within the mountain cave. Draped over his shoulder a multicolored zip line and buckled harness clanked together with each step breaking up the eerie silence of bat filled shadows, their occasional shrieks reverberating with an echoing reply displaying their annoyance at the sudden intruder in their dwelling.

Mysterious markings began to make themselves visible the further Kazarian descended. Perhaps mystic in nature they would require closer examination by the teams Mistress of Mysticism for any discernible  verification. Their intricate cinematic depictions adding to the mystery of the cave, they in themselves would be considered an archeological masterpiece. Discovered after centuries of having been cloaked in secrecy while their authentication was marked by the artistic lines of the era.  

Pausing, the LeBeau exile could hear the faint sound of flowing water up head. Making his way through the loose stone and shifting pebbles beneath his feet finally arriving at a majestic anomaly in the form of an underground waterfall. The mouth of which had opened up revealing a World within a world filled with botanical beauty and lush forestation. Its inviting scenery beckoning to the former assassin as he peeled off his shirt exposing his flawless physique, a trademark of all LeBeau men. 
 
Discarded his gear on the bank Kazarian waded into the crystal clear water, its temperature unbelievably warm. A seemingly lost paradise within the Japaneses mountain, yet, all was not as it appeared to be as from beyond the tree-lines the glowing red eyes of impending danger lurked, stalking its prey waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

Jake lays sprawled across his luxurious bed spread sleeping, the moonlight shines in through his sunroof above him. The night sky almost beckons him as the sky slowly begins to turn from darkness into morning, he still had about 30 minutes yet until the sun rose. Nothing that it would bother him, cursed so many years ago by the night and the sun to forever live. He awakens slowly as a slow buzzing begins to erupt from his room. The highly advanced compound had daily schedules for each member, what they ate, when they slept an most importantly when they needed to awake. As he turned over pulling the pillow over his head and trying to go back to sleep, a small alarm came out from the wall above his bed and rang even louder than before. A grunt sounded from beneath the pillow and a stream of necro coated the alarm. The whirring from its dying functions finally did its job waking the slumbering vampire. Stretching out he finds he is still in the cloths he was in from the night before, still soaked from his sparring session with one of his team Midknighter.

Yawning wide he pulled himself to the end of the bed an bent down pulling a pack of cigarettes out, packing the pack he pulls one out and lights it. Suddenly a long arm comes from the ceiling and barks “No Smoking!” And sprays a stream of water putting the cigarette out. Looking oddly to the arm he pulls another out an lights, it too is quickly put out. Grunting loudly he pulls one out an lights it, and as the arm is about to spray it he holds up a finger. And from the corner of his mouth he tells it “If you put this out...I will with no remorse whatsoever dismantle you entirely, and gladly invoke the wrath of Cassidy for doing so.” A calm and casual threat the arm twitched for a moment before recoiling back into the ceiling, and the sunroof opens so the smoke flows out. Chuckling he stretches again putting out the cigarette he quickly finishes, and stands up slowly and groggily unbuttons his shirt. Soon it is shown how well defined his body is as the muscles pulseate as he breathes. Scars are shown covering his entire body, many from when he was human. He removes his pants and tosses both shirt and pants into the bin, looking to the fridge he smiles and pulls out a bag of blood, ripping the seal he shoves it into his mouth.

The feeling of its contents send an urge of pleasure through his body, he didn’t care that it was cold. But he did wish that they fought someone soon, so he could drain an enemy of blood. He was asked politely by Mercy before following her into Dark Legacy that he stop feeding. As he enjoys the bag of blood his body writhes and he goes into a frenzy. Grabbing bag after bag of blood and downing the contents, blood covers his bare body. Blood drips from his chin and runs down his chest and down further, he kneels feeding for ten minutes before he realizes the mess he was now. He hadn’t fed in a few days, not wanting to rely so much on blood now that he was supposed to be a “hero”and grabs a towel. On his way to the bathroom he lights another cig, the arm almost pops out an he barks “DONT EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!” the arm whines an retracts. Turning the shower on he walks over to the mirror an chuckles at his reflection “What are you getting into Jake? Been sometime since you have fed on banked blood, your almost respectable.” Shaking his head he pulls his hair out from the pony tail he had up, shaking his head he steps into the shower. As soon as the water hits him the blood flows from his body, the swirling at the drain of water and blood was almost hypnotic. He pulled his hair back and grabbed a pair of scissors, cutting his long locks and sporting a more rocker haircut he washes the rest of his body and steps out.

The moment his feet hit the bathroom floor his comlink rings and Mercy asks for his presence in the conference room. Laughing hard he mutters to himself “Moment I step out from the shower...” He speeds out of the bathroom and with lightning speed is dressed, a jacket with no shirt and a pair of ripped pants. The perfect Punk he liked to call the look he was sporting, he made his way to Mercy an sat down at the table. Reading through the information in front of him he listened and breathed a sigh of relief, as he was finally going to get some action and get out of the stuffy compound.

The rising and setting of Earth's sun has always been an intriging scene to the neophyte of this backwater planet. He gazed at it as if it was a magnificent crystal light display in the Hall of Wonders;another thing from his home planet which he was never able to see again. Needing no such thing as sleep,Ambrose had been meditating all night until the fiery celestial body rose and signaled the arrival of morning. His eyelids slowly opened and reaveled the piercing emerald eyes he inherited,among other things,from his alien mother. Waves of nostalgia hit him furiously as a voice emmited from his comm-link which signaled that his new family was gathering. Her voice was subtle and reminded him so much of his deceased kin that he missed dearly. After all,she was the reason he adopted this new clan to become something he would call his own. Swift lifted himself from the slight trance of meditation he was in and continued from his lavish and botanical-made room he half created,exiting into the hallway with no clothes. As he slowly made his way to the room which he was to attend the meeting, a liquid like substance began to form symbiotically around his greek-god anatomy and constructed his green and gold threads that he arrived to Earth in. In seconds he reached the place he was summoned to as his leader spoke of a mission he had already been accumulating information on. It was his pleasure to be fully immeresed in the interest of the woman that kindly brought him in when he was being hunted on a global scale for crimes against the so-called "Earth's Mightiest Heroes". Once again her voice stimulated images of his long lost mother as he read the final words which seeped from his crimson lips. "Be ready to go in one hour." Without hesitation he once again retreated to his small-scaled terreformed sanctuary and began to gather his gear in preparation for the excting mission ahead.

Japan - Year of 2012

A layer of foreboding seemed to hover over the group as they traversed the mountain, slowly yet surely trekking their way up to the location. There was a small murmur of idle chit-chat resonating throughout the group, but otherwise it was pretty quiet, leaving Cassidy alone with her thoughts and worries. Kaz had gone ahead to perform some additional recon and to scout out the area, but there was a sense of danger pinging through her bones that made her feel as if this was not the wisest of their ideas.

The sun beat down on them, providing a measure of warmth in the cool spring air of the mountain. The group had spread out enough to ensure that there was nothing laying in wait and everybody was doing their own thing while at the same time meshing together. It gave hope for the future that Cass was trying to build for all of them. She was a mother, a lover, a business-woman and a skilled killer, but she was at her best when she had people she could trust at her back. It had taken her a while to find her way back to the light and now she was attempting to help others grow in the same way.

After a two hour trek through mountains, forest and scaling rock walls, the assorted crew managed to make it to the mouth of the cavern that held what they were looking for. Re-securing the pack on her back, Cassidy took the lead and stood in front of the crew with her back to the entrance. Securing her hair in a ponytail on top of her head, she shifted her weight from side to side as she addressed them all. "You've read the files, you're fully briefed. This is supposed to be fast and easy. With our luck I can almost guarantee that it won't be. You're all well-trained, you all have areas of expertise. I trust that you'll watch one another's backs and be able to handle yourselves. Kazarian's gone ahead of us and has a communicator that ties into my systems." She taps her ear, where her implant lays beneath the skin. "Claire, I want you front and center with me, everybody else spread out in formation behind us. Let's get this show on the road."

The cavern was somewhat dark and dank and as they moved further in, goosebumps sprouted on her arms. Not from the damp that was pervading her clothing, but from that sense of unrest and unease that lay in the pit of her stomach. Claire walked beside her, an aura of sophistication and magic surrounding her as she somehow managed to walk as if she were on a runway in the middle of this godforsaken place. Bringing a finger up, Cassidy hit something in the ear implant and began whispering as the rest of Dark Legacy searched the cavern tunnels, clearing them before they continued down the main corridor, lined with wall engravings and sconces for torches. "Kaz, come in. Give me a general consensus of what's going on where you are and follow the coordinates that I'm sending to your device. They'll link you to my GPS so you can find us." Her tone was all business with the smallest amount of underlying worry as they continued to traverse the cave.

Every now and then a trap would spring up that needed to be disarmed and throughout their process through the cavern, a rapport was built between members. Body movements were read and able to be anticipated, camaraderie was developed enough that people paired off and watched one another's backs. There was nothing too serious until they approached an antechamber that lead to a room that was recessed into the deep rock. Somebody stepped on a booby-trapped tile and a wall of poisoned darts was released at a quicksilver speed. If not for the combined interference of Claire's ample magic skill and Cassidy's telekinetic shielding, they would have penetrated the group.

Standing before the room which was bathed in light beaming directly on a marble pedestal from a square cut high in the rock of the thirty foot ceiling, Cassidy rested her hands on her knees, bending forward and taking a deep breath. She ran through the roster and abilities in her head. "Duchess and Kalliste, you two up front with me." Her eyes darted through the darkness, catching sight of Kaz. "Kazarian, keep an eye on the back of things. I don't want anything catching us unawares. Mike, Jake, Unknown Soldier, keep your eyes peeled and guard the flanks of the group. Ambrose and Midknighter, center of the group, be prepared for anything."

Unwinding back to her full, if short, height, she stepped forward with her best friend and good acquaintance by her side and a case in her hand that she had pulled from the pack on her back. Her senses (both physical and metaphysical) were wide open as she approached the scroll that lay on the center of the marble pedestal. There was a tingling tension in the air that thickened the closer she got to it and immediately was comforted in her choice of having Duchess, the Enchanting Sorceress Supreme by her side at this moment as well as a young woman with an impressive aptitude for survival.

Hers and Claire's eyes met from the side of Cass took that final step forward. Her leather-clad hand touched the scroll and she knew she had underestimated that power of this object. It had been far too easy to obtain and here she was holding it. No, it wasn't that easy. Her heartbeat accelerated, her body developed a sheen of sweat and the smallest of gasps escaped her mouth as the pure power of this object forced her down to her knees, her forehead to the cold hard ground in a state of abdication. Deep voices rumbled in her head and her free hand clenched and unclenched involuntarily. This was all within the span of seconds. All of the sudden, the tone of the room shifted, the entire vibe changing. A cloud of purple mist enveloped them, knocking all unconcscious in one unfortunate second.

Feudal Japan - Estimated Year 1860

A moan escaped her lips as her eyes opened and immediately the Ronin Assassin began taking stock of her surroundings and escertaining that her entire crew was there. Her first thought was of Kaz and felt relief as she reached out and touched his shoulder. There was dirt in her hair and her entire body was sore. She blinked her eyes over and over, trying to stabilize her vision as she tenderly sat up. The air felt different, the entire Earth felt different...quiet. They were on the edge of woods, hidden by the cover of trees. This was not anywhere near where they had been before. The Dragon Scroll was missing, but everybody was still in once piece.

Pulling her slightly crushed pack off her back, she retrieved some bottles of water and protein bars and sat in the middle of her unconscious team after ascertaining that everybody still had their pulse and was injury free, as she waited for them to come to. After everybody was stabilized and conscious, they'd figure out what the hell had happened.

The sordid state of his room had a contradictory sense of order to it. Any other man would've gotten lost in trying to find what he needed in here. His tired eyes, however, recognized each unkempt corner of the room as its own category. They identified order out of disorder. Made sense of the chaotic placement of it all. When they found what they were looking for, he began to cruise over to the western side of the room. It was a long wall, and a bench was pressed up against it. On the bench was a set of armor. It was unnaturally clean considering its surroundings, and almost appeared.. sterile. The white paint shone like a beacon in the filth of the room. Grabbing his jacket, he removed the tattered covering from his body, then un-zipped his torn combat fatigues from his legs. Left in his underwear, he began applying the armor. Gauntlets slid onto each hand. Boots over the feet, greaves on the shins. It fit him perfectly, as it should. He left the helmet where it was, for the time being.

Walking to the right, he placed both hands on a pair of metal handles, wrenching open the doors of a metal cabinet. Inside was an impressive arsenal of all manner of weapons. Blades, rifles, explosives, sidearms, everything he might need for a wide range of scenarios. He already knew what he needed. The standard gear was picked out first and set aside. Next came the primary weapons. For a rifle, he went with the G36. The round might not always be as powerful as some others, but he preferred the weapon for its accuracy and range, if nothing else. Lifting it from its rack, he set it on a table beside him. Next, he picked out a pair of weapons. Both handheld sub-machine guns, but of two different sorts. One was the more popular Skorpion. One of the few guns that lived up to the hype the media projected upon it. It went on the table, followed by a JS 9mm. Based on the QCW-05, it packed a lethal surprise for anyone on the receiving end. Completing the ensemble was a single sidearm, which was by no means normal-looking. It had the frame of an M1911, and accepted .45 ACP, but the pattern on the gun almost looked.. demonic. The silver of the steel had been warped to a dark black, and outlined with an orange so bright that it almost appeared to be on fire. It'd been given to him by a devilsh man he'd met awhile back, when he was among the ranks of Tenebrasque In.

After retrieving the last weapon, he shut the cabinet and outfitted his armor with his gear. Walking back to the west side of the room, he grabbed his helmet and went to leave.

15 minutes later, going through the mountains.

Marcus felt out of place. Perhaps the only person he was.. "socializing" with was the guy that had the demon stuck in his skull. Even though the cause of it was vastly different, both men shared a similar torture, and the grizzled ex-soldier could almost feel respect forming. It almost distracted him enough to ignore his surroundings. Almost. But almost isn't enough, is it? Trekking through mountains began to warp his perception. He knew not to trust it, but the aberration seemed so corporeal that any other man would of mistaken it for reality. In front of him was not the team he had just joined. It was his old Marines squad. The sergeant up front was whispering orders. Commands to keep hands on rifles. To stay alert. Never knew when a bad guy could pop out and put a round through your head.

The illusion gradually faded, revealing his team entering a cavern. Marcus could spot when someone was not at ease. When they felt like something wasn't right. More than one member of the team, their leader included, displayed it. He did not. They pressed on. Another hallucination started to come over. One of fighting his way out of a cave crawling with insurgents. His squad had been caught with their pants down halfway through the cave, had to fight their way back out. Gunfire peppered the grim blackness of the cave. Muzzle flashes were the only external source of light. Man down, bullet tore a hole in another's kneecap. One scream was cut short before it could leave the lips, another howled through the hollow.

Again, the mirage dissolved away, letting reality take hold again. Just in time to see Cassidy touch the scroll. And he felt the unease she had very likely carried through the journey thus far. A cloud of purple mist started to hang in the air. In the brief seconds, he heard one of his men cry out. There was the haunting hiss of a gas canister being set off. Just before he lost consciousness, he heard one of his squadmates choking, his hands having failed to grab his gas mask in time.

Moments later.

His eyes flung open. Reaching for his weapon, he immediately ripped his sidearm free of its holster. In one swift motion, both arms came up, holding it in an aiming position, and he came up on one knee. Scanning the area, he noticed that there were no enemies. His sensors couldn't detect any signs of life except those of his team. Turning around, he came to a standing position, noticing that only he and Cassidy were awake. The rest were still out. "It's just us. Scanners are reporting that aside from cave rats.. we're the only life-forms in here." Letting his arms fall to his sides, he kept his pistol out. Just in case. Walking over, he switched vision filters. "Vitals on all of you look fine. Mine are reading normal, too. Whatever it was that just hit us didn't want to hurt us, from the looks of it."

The expected never could happen. Otherwise, the universe would be letting them off easy. And it couldn't have that, could it?

The beauty of the cavern was breathtaking, almost too breathtaking, the illuminating light had an unreal warmth as it bathed the team's skin. The vegetation appeared to be moving in a breeze that did not exist, and the plant's shadows on the walls appeared to be alive and dancing. It all seemed to peaceful and easy for something that was so powerful, Madison believed the others felt the same way because she felt the tension rise in the serene space. After waiting a few seconds in the tense area the redheaded beauty reached for the mysterious scroll and all air seemed to vanish from the room, she tried to speak but could not, her lungs felt as if they were collapsing inside her chest, the world went black and all was silent as Madison's body began to fall.

Her eyes began blink slowly as she recovered from the blackout, most of the others were on the ground as well, and the members who were functioning were making sure that everyone had a pulse and Madison thought she should assist the effort, she and the others made sure that the team was breathing, after double checking all of the heartbeats the functioning assassins assessed their surroundings. They all patrolled the area with weapons drawn, if anyone saw them they would probably run from the group, or they may stay and stare in awe, the group was a well oiled machine all interacting perfectly. And the team gave off an aura of power and grace, like a lioness waiting to pounce on anything that came their way. After the area was confirmed as clear, they attempted to look even deeper but they could not see because thick walls of bamboo enclosed them in a small clearing, the noises were very natural and organic, no evidence of any other humans were around.

No humans, there was a contradicting feeling of unease and danger in such a calm and peaceful setting. No life other than the few who stood in a circle deciding the next move. Even within the circle nobody talked, they were all to unsure of what happened, when Mercy's fingertip brushed the ancient scroll what exactly happened? The forces at large were apparently bigger than expected that they were able to rattle the unshakable group.They probably should stick together to help ensure safety with strength in numbers but Madison felt as if they needed to move in order to complete the mission. "We should split up and find other humans, we can go in two or three teams, on goes north towards the mountains and the other south to the valley"

Confusion had swept over the group in a wave of unexplained events. Just as quickly as they had obtained the mysterious scroll they vanished within a haze of purple mist only to awaking on the edge of wooded forest. Slowly the LeBeau Outlaw sat up, feeling the concerned hand of the teams leader, and his love, brush his shoulder before turning her attention towards the situation at hand. From a now crouched position stroking his chin with curiosity Kazarian began to speak, "This....this is all wrong. The topography is off. " his conscious teammates listening as he explained himself. "You see this?" breaking his explination long enough to pluck a nearby flower. "Its a Odontochilus hatusimanus. Its an orchid" he carried on. "What makes it so special is.....its been extinct for nearly two decades, yet these woods are teaming with them. Something happened when you touched that scroll Cass, something big."

Without much information to go off the next logical step was to find shelter and food. They had fresh water and supplies but none of them had backed for an extended expedition so the location of a fresh water source would in time become a priority. Stoically Kazarian stood shoulder to shoulder with Cassidy glancing out towards what appeared to be a small fishing village on the horizon. Sceptically he suggested investigating. "Kalliste's right, we need to break off into smaller groups, but we shouldn't travel to far away from this spot. We can use this as our regrouping point should our communications breakdown for whatever reason. I'm thinking groups of two maybe three, we travel no further then half a day in each direction so it shouldnt take any longer then a day and a half to meet back here. Thats a half day to, a half day to investigate, and a half day back to regroup." Slowly flashing his charming smile the Last Arashikage placed his hand on Cassidy's cheek, "You know we have to split up and take point, we shouldnt stake any one team with to much firepower. I love you chere" mimicking his father before kissing her "Kalliste, you're with me" he said before slinging his back over his right shoulder and heading towards the fishing village.

As they transgressed down the old dirt covered path it was becoming obvious that technology and modern day progression was non-existent. Wooden shanties lined the single path leading into the village, its occupants staring with cautioned confusion.

"Stop! You are trespassing here outsiders. You've violated the sanctity of our village and are here by ordered to surrender"(translated) his ceremonial garb was identical to that of the fabled Samurai. His hand upon the hilt of his katanna ready to be drawn if need be. The command triggering the arched brow of the Arashikage, "I dont think so."

The trip through minding mountain paths and through dense jungle was relatively mundane, though it didn't cause them to drop their guard.

"No road side bombs"

Looking along the sides of the path.

"No ambushes"

Leaning against a cavern wall just inside the cave.

"Not even a single ten year old trying to shoot us with an AK"

Discarding a toothpick he'd been chewing on.

"Worst. Mountain. Climb. Ever."

Looking around at his teammates as they made their way deeper into the cave, his relaxed, joking exterior a ruse concealing an alert, killer prepared to strike at the slightest moment.

"You people have no sense of humor"

Carefully watching the cavern walls, occasionally pointing out a trap that they'd quickly dispose of.

Reaching the antechamber they took up positions in case of an attack. Turning to see Cass reach for the scroll he shouted.

"CASS WAIT!"

To late, things happened so quickly before anyone could react a purple haze had filled the cave and moments later they were all unconscious...

Feudal Japan

Quickly the masked assassin sat up, rubbing his head. "What hit me?" Looking around several teammates we already up, with two more missing, which he later discovered were out scouting a nearby fishing village, and something about some rare flower. "So are we still in Japan?" Looking around, somewhat unsure himself. While the others went about getting their wits about them and making plans, the Horseman decided to do a little scouting himself, making sure his comm was on in case they needed him. Heading off into the jungle to see what he could find, he couldn't quite put his finger on it but something was off about this place.

Finding a beaten dirt road he headed the opposite way from where Kaz and Kalliste had gone, getting the lay of the land.

Something was different... well... Everything was different, the air was cleaner, no cities, to cars, it was peaceful, tranquil... boring.

"This place sucks... how did that piece of paper take us to the boonies? Why not some other dimension with samurai riding dragons, fighting against robot ninjas or something like that?

Looking down the road he noticed a farmer working his field, approving the elderly man, who looked up at him a bit startled by his attire.

"Uh excuse me, do you speak English?"

The man cocking his head to the side, perplexed, saying something in Japanese, far to quickly for him to understand with his basic knowledge of the language.

"Of course you don't..."

Looking away for a moment, thinking how to approach the situation, he returned his attention to see the farmer running scared across his field.

"What the- ?"

Looking behind him to see several men carrying various farm implements, their faces hidden from view. Glaring up at the strange looking man in the mask.

"F*ck... Ninjas"

The cave teemed with sinister forces. It flooded with evil and streams of malice seemed to spring from the corners of it's ravenous mouth. Albert could sense the tendrils of darkness wrap around his limbs softly, tighten around his ankles, his wrists. His eyes flitted around warily, his own ebony soul soothed by the black heart of the tunnels. He seemed to be the only one able to make out the otherworldly creatures that scurried about the place, leaping onto some of his team-mates backs and jumping about, screeching. The beast within him appeared to ward off these monstrous little things, his own evil proving far too powerful for these infinitesimal demons. They made a point to avoid his red-clad figure, garbed in the world's most atrocious forces, roaring with subconscious supernatural power. He could see hoards of the creatures climbing upon the team leader's shoulders, forming an unnatural mountain of hissing, thriving hatred. She seemed to disappear beneath the colony of ebony, whereas the rest of the team had only a few of the tiny beasts scampering around them. The Unknown Soldier was hounded by larger demons, whispering into his ears, hissing pain and misfortune into his head. Duchess was the only other member of the team that seemed to have immunity to the underworld-like imps, her own magical presence keeping them at a distance. Albert wondered if she could see them, too.

After a reasonably long fare up across the mountain and through the cavern, they had finally come to a stop, Midknighter standing at the centre of the group with another of his team-mates, a man by the name Ambrose Swift, a bare minimum of the dark little creatures draped across his figure. Daxx doubted the demons capable of any harm to his allies, but kept a wary eye upon them all the same. He could feel their strength out with his own demonic ability, and had gauged the majority of them as pitiful. Barely enough to put any scratches on a human child. The monster within his head laughed at them, his otherworldly chuckles bouncing around his skull, irritating him. He endeared it.

Look there.

Midknighter's head snapped towards his team leader, where a sudden spike in the dark forces encircling them had occurred. The demon hissed in surprise at the instantaneous multiplication in might as Mercy's fingers touched the surface of the Dragon Scrolls. The monsters upon her shoulders roared in unison, horrible glee laced voices tearing the cavern's atmosphere apart. The tendrils twirling around everybody thickened, growing to impossible size within the space of a few moments. The thrashed about carnivorously, and with the sight of all of the imps rushing off with fearful, yet mischievously glad fashion, he took a step forward to try and grab his leader before a terrible conclusion to their first adventure came untimely. The masked mercenary across the room called out, and Daxx cast a lone glance at his tensed figure, blinking calmly.

It was too late.

Seemingly moments later.

Wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wa-

"SHUT UP."

The Red Shadow's sudden outburst was muffled by the earth his face was stuck into. He jerked his head from the ground, spitting chunks of dirt from his mouth, groggily wiping his eyes clear of it with his forearms. His body reverberated with the pressure of pure serenity, pushing down from all sides, everywhere. The demon hissed uneasily, digging it's claws into him, sharing the anxiety it felt. Albert cringed slightly as he got up from his knees, body struggling to adjust to this entirely new atmosphere. He fought the monster within him, slowly regaining his composure, dispelling the anxiety, but failing to do so completely. Unease filtered through his being.

--

The team had split up to survey the area and try and find out where exactly they might be. They had not left earth, for the sun shone bright in the sky as it always had, and the forests grew unrestrained. It was a beautiful place, if inconvenient for their business. This had been unforeseen and the team leader, Mercy, seemed at a loss. As bewildered as the rest of them were. Midknighter had trailed off behind the masked mercenary, Mikepool, his presence unknown, he had decided to follow him after facing indecision with everybody else splitting up into teams. He had been unsure whether to notify the man of his company, and had eventually just walked a fair distance behind him, feeling the realm for any nearby forces of evil.

He stopped suddenly, several beings detected by his supernatural radar, all but one of them harboured unkind intentions. The individual was near Mikepool, the pair of men exchanging words before the others closed in around them, their stealth near-impossible. The Midknighter grunted hastily, making a sudden dash towards the area, tearing through the forestry with his enhanced speed, the demon in his head crawling out, blood-lust fuelling his intentions. Albert allowed the monster to give him it's strength, careful not to take too much, always careful.

--

"F*ck... Ninjas"

--

The red-clad whisper sprung from the shrubbery, his body twisting through the air, agility coursing through his self, limbs unconsciously prepared for battle. Eyes glowing fierce crimson.

He breezed over the head of the closest assailant, his torso spread outwards, only the tip of his left foot trailing from his body. It snagged the back of the man's head and shattered his skull instantaneously, causing him to emit a sudden cry of distress before his body crumpled to the ground. The Midknighter landed beside Mikepool, sliding backwards through the field, his airborne momentum carrying him slightly. He bared his teeth at the men, the tips of his canines unnaturally lengthier. Albert wasn't sure if he was imposing upon his team member, the man seemed to enjoy battle and although he appeared capable of a few ninja, Daxx could not help but join in. The demon required satiation.

It had been two long, arduous weeks spent in Feudal Japan since Dark Legacy had split into two teams, the only communication between them an established psy-link between Kaz and Cassidy maintained by Duchess. With Kaz, Kalliste, Ambrose and Mike on one team with Cass, Claire, Marcus and Albert on the other, they had split up and done their parts in finding out exactly what the hell was going on.

They had wound up transported through time and straight into the middle of a war between feuding clans of ninjas. Each clan was led by a brother who had started with the same goal of obtaining the Dragon Scroll together and using the power that it was rumored to have to set their family and their country back on it's feet.

That goal had since been twisted, as many pursuits of power were wont to do. The two brothers had inevitably turned against each other, each wanting to be the one to find the scroll, hold the power and determine their own destiny. That had been five years ago. Ever since, it had been small and stealthy attacks on one another, always in an attempt to get a leg up on the scroll.

From everything that Mercy and her incredibly skilled team had learned, the brothers were incredibly close to obtaining the scroll. Each brother had 'adopted' a team of foreigners, realizing that their own xenophobia wasn't as important as winning the Dragon Scroll and one-upping the other. The night before, each group of Dark Legacy and the Green Dragon Clan ninjas that had split into sects had received speeches from each respective brother. The next morning would be the morning they traveled to their final destination; It was an abandoned field on the edge of a cavern system outside the village that would one day become Kyoto. And inside those caverns was the Dragon Scroll. There would be war tomorrow at dawn in that field and one brother would walk away with the Scroll - or at least that was the plan.

She lay on the sparse bed in the hut that had been designated for her, her eyes closed and her breathing cool, calm and collected. Opening up her mind she effortlessly connected with Claire through the telepathic link that had been established between the two friends. Asking to be connected to Kaz, the two exchanged all they knew about the brother's respective plans. Each were planning to make it to the field first and lay traps, all honor among thieves and among family had been forgotten here. Each had a crew of approximately 100 of the country's best-trained ninja assassins, the pre-cursor to their modern day equivalents.

For now, the plan was to take out as many of the opposition as possible and when the opportunity presented itself, grab the scroll for themselves and use it to transport themselves back to their own time. In the past week, Claire had had extensive meetings with the mages and witches on hand and through piecing together what she'd been told as well as digging into minds for information with scalpel-like precision, they'd been able to ascertain that one of the Scroll's imbued magical abilities was time travel.

Her mind completely open to Kaz for the moment, she let it wander momentarily before reigning it back in. "I'll see you tomorrow morning. Do try not to kill me on the battlefield." Closing her eyes she drifted off to sleep with him in her head, knowing that the rest of her team was taking care of business and their final preparations for what would be a day for the history books.

The battlefield thrived with darkness, shadows flitting back and forth, patches of black slithering through each other like snakes. The screams of the wounded painted the afternoon atmosphere with strife, the once rich earth turned sour by the amount of blood spilt into it's wonderful soil. Limbs lay strewn everywhere, the owners elsewhere, either dead or continuing their fight without an arm or leg. Occasional glints of menacing steel illuminated the ocean of shadows, katana striking tanto striking ninjato, the art of ninjitsu flowing like a river throughout the field. An array of deadly projectiles flickered through the blood-crazed air, ranging from kunai knives to star-shaped shurikens, each one tinged with murderous intent.

--

The Midknighter, clothed in jet black shinobi shozoku, the traditional ninja garb, cut through hordes of enemy shadow steppers, the demon within his head having taken over majority of his mind and body, transforming him from a bitter self-pitying slouch to a ferocious beast intent on genocide. The symbiotic crimson of his skin squirmed in adrenaline, his incomprehensible whispers and roars fuelled by the demons nature. A ninja stepped in behind him, bring a katana down in a vertical slash. His body swerved downwards, coming up underneath the blade, unleashing a ruthless side kick to his hand, his blade falling from his fingers, wrist shattered instantaneously. The ninja's eyes swirled in agony, unable to scream as a single scarlet viper strike tore his windpipe from his throat, his blood filling the air. Three more ninja's came from the other direction, each one wielding a different weapon, bringing it down on the crouched figure of the Midknighter, their movements professional and fluid. He gave them a feral snarl, raising one forearm to the oncoming blades, parrying their razor sharp edges with uncanny ability, his body spinning into theirs, arms moving like pistons as they struck lightning-paced body shots at the three shinobi, sending them to their knees with blood spilling from their beings. A foot struck the demon-possessed man in the arse, entailing him to stagger forwards from the sheer force of it. The creature pivoted in crazed fashion, ready to tear the assailant apart.

"Oops, sorry. Wrong guy."

His team-mate, the Unknown Soldier, nodded apologetically before piling into a horde of ninja, dismantling them with systematically brutal ease. The Midknighter managed to steer his blood-thirsty mind from the man, turning on another group of enemy shinobi, pouncing upon them with both speed and might, his inhuman war cries shaking the battle field.

--

Each of the Dark Legacy groups had been assimilated into one of the ninja brother's clans, remaining undercover and managing to become apart of the assassin groups, wearing their garb and pursuing their quests. Their natural combat prowess had allowed them to rise through the ranks of the shinobi gangs and they had soon been declared trusted figures within the espionage driven crew. Before the day of the great battle for the Dragon Scroll, each ninja clan had applied a bandana to their bodies, one clan red whereas the other had adorned blue. Mercy and her group of ninja had been assigned to the blue accessories, the Midknighter wrapping it around his shinobi shozoku concealed face. These would allow the opposing forces to differentiate between their allies and their foes.

--

After simultaneously disembowelling a pair of red ninja, the Midknighter had been faced off by a rather unusually attired warrior, his shinobi shozoku not jet black as per custom but an abstract mixture of both orange and blue. His movements were faster than those of his comrades and he wielded a broadsword instead of a thin katana or tanto, neither a red or blue bandana located anywhere upon his figure. He slew ninja left and right, his arms working at feverish pace, occasional strikes from his fists or legs peeping from his formidable stance, his being untouchable. The Midknighter leaped at him, bringing both arms down to tear his skull from his shoulders.

THAK

He rolled through the dirt with incredible momentum, toppling other shinobi in his path, digging his fingers into the earth so as to slow himself, coming to a painful stop on his face, dirt clogging his eyes and mouth. He got to his knees, spitting blood and wiping the grime from his face, ferociously searching for the strange broadsworded ninja that had just swatted him clean out of the air as if he were a mere fly. He spotted him amidst a horde of red bandana assassins, swinging his massive blade around, cleaving men into bloodied pieces, his body moving like clockwork. He paused suddenly, sensing the Midknighter's crimson, awed eyes upon him. He seemed to straighten up, flicking the blood from the edge of his weapon, returning Albert's stare. His face garb parted for a brief moment, a single eye winking at the demon-induced man, before he vanished into another crowd of ninja, blood spilling in his wake.

The Midknighter cocked his head, confused at what had just occurred, slightly unsure of the situation's authenticity... Perhaps he had imagined the being.

"UAAAAH!"

He spun around, deflecting a swipe at his throat before delivering a vicious uppercut to his shadow-clad assailant, snapping his neck.

Two more took his place, and the battle raged on...

The sky light was vaguely present in the sky, it seemed as if the battle was so large that the sun itself dared not gaze upon the bloodshed. And bloodshed there was, the cries that were torn from falling soldiers were enough to haunt any normal person for a lifetime, not only was their a wailing ambiance but the aroma of death took hold of the battlefield within minutes. It was not a place meant for humans, this scroll was causing enough problems and Madison wondered if for that reason, maybe if they got back to present time that the scroll should be tucked away even deeper in the mountain.

Away from enemy lines Madison was being kept in a curtained oriental palanquin that rested on the shoulders of the strongest men. The village believed that she should not fight so they gave her a long kimono to change into, which she did willingly. However listening to the sound and being disgusted by the smell Madison knew she had to try and help end it, she reached down to her knees and ripped the expensive cloth to a much shorter length, the robe now ended at her upper thigh and with that she leaped from the enclosed shelter.

The second her feet made contact with the dirt, guards demanded she return and when she refused they assumed that Madison was fighting against them. Three samurai dashed their way in the direction of Madison, she vaulted over the men and clapped her hands on the helmet of the furthest back soldier, the blow was so forceful that the metal crushed his skull and he died instantly. His body fell before the other two could even process what happened, she grabbed the thin sword from the dead man, she preferred using guns and knives but she gave those up to the guards upon arrival on the ancient kingdom, the sword would have to do. The two came at Madison with surprising speed, she sent one legs flying to meet the taller soldiers face as she stabbed the other in the unprotected kneecap, he fell instantly and the fighting beauty thrust her sword in between the armor panels covering the chest. "Who are you" The warrior whispered his final words. "I'm Kalliste" She twisted the sword and the red covered man let out one last sigh before he passed.

Now barefoot and without armor Madison was going to try and get her group together so they would be able to retrieve the scroll, just as she finished her thought an earthquake rattled the ground and a face of the mountain groaned as it began to slide down towards the battlefield.

Marcus sat in a small, confined room that save for a single candle, was blanketed by darkness. With his musclebound torso uncovered, the candlelight revealed the terrors inflicted upon his body. Starting from his armpit, a straight, wide line ran a diagonal path across his shoulders. As his mind came to think of it, his ever-strained mind conjured the echoed sound of a plane detonating in the distance, followed by hot metal searing across his shoulders, leaving a crimson line. Exhaling, he brought one hand up to rest on his folded legs, specifically the kneecap. When he did, the vivid feeling of a bullet piercing flesh came from the very kneecap his hand had come to rest upon. Continuing his line of thought, he felt hot iron being pressed into his right hand. The last thing he heard before forcibly breaking himself away from the remembrance was his sergeant's voice. Screaming. It'd been the only time the tough son-of-a-b**ch had ever screamed in his entire life. It's specific sound had carried with him ever since that night.

The next day, on the battlefield.

Marcus hadn't bothered to don his full set of armor, nor the set that he'd been offered by the people they were.. 'working' with. Instead, he stepped onto the battlefield wearing nothing but his boots, a pair of plain black pants, and the blue cloth wrapped around his arm.

For once, his perceptions were clear. He didn't see any apparitions, at least not at that moment. The reality of ninja rushing for him struck true in his presently-sharp mind. It was time for the rush to be returned. Much akin to a bull, the ex-soldier stormed onward, looking for the first target his fists could find. They quickly found one of the countless black-clothed enemies, one hand wrapping around a wrist, the other placing on a shoulder. Pulling outwards with his inhuman strength, the limb was ripped free, eliciting a howl and momentary spray of blood. Tossing the enemy to the side, he delivered a kick outwards, only to accidentally hit one of his own teammates. Nodding once, he turned around and swung his fist. Facial features were obliterated under the solid mass that was his fist, causing shards of bone to scatter into the air, following the gore.

Placing his hand on the deflated head, he hurled the ninja behind him, thrusting his leg out. It hit home, collapsing the pelvis of yet another shadowy assassin. He soon fell into a slow, but brutal rhythm. Using his enhanced durability, he kept within a small circle of enemies, striking out with titanic strength. Flesh was pounded in, bones were pulverized, and limbs were ripped free from their sockets. However, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Out on the edges of the battlefield, he saw something. A girl, with hair redder than the fiercest of flames, and a slender, delicate frame whose every inch projected the image of grace and beauty. His rhythm stopped, and a word passed from his lips in the form of a desperate call.

"Theresa!" His voice sounded pained, yet there were no visible wounds to be found on his body. The corners of the girl's lips turned upwards, revealing her perfect smile, the smile that had disarmed the young Marcus. Her hand raised a little, then moved to the side in a waving motion. Marcus's arm stretched out, and he shoved an enemy off to the side, intending to reach out to her despite how far away she was. Suddenly, the ground violently shook, forcing him to look away. The sound of a gunshot registered in his ears, and he turned back. Crumpled in the grass was the pale form of the girl, a small pistol hanging loosely in her dead fingers. Tears formed in his eyes. He'd let his perception slip. He'd believed the illusion.

Turning back to the fight with not so much as a tear in his eye, he stopped himself just as he went to throw another blow. Looking up, he witnessed a sight that challenged even his experience. The mountain above them was sliding downwards. Towards them.

Lurching into motion, he rushed his way through droves of enemies, hoping that he found someone soon.

Misguided, the Last Arashikage had ventured into a nearby village in search of answers only to become an unwilling captive. Unmitigated control of the heimin (peasant) infested shanty like fishing community rested with one half of a divided dynasty headed by two waring brothers. Fueled by perpetual prophetic beliefs and ancient legends, each brother had amassed a substantial force in hopes of obtaining the infamous Dragon Scrolls. Now in the clutches of the Gold Dragon Clan, Kazarian was about to be introduced to the regions first known collection of mutants. The Golden Dragon Clan's Fearful Four. Genetically superior martial arts grandmasters capable of inducing the Earth's four basic elements into potential weapons aided by a limited foundation of mystical abilities. Earth, Wind, Fire, and Water, had become unstoppable weapons dedicated to their clan's Shogun.

With his hands bound behind his back Kazarian was brought before the FF before being forced to kneel. (Translated:) "Welcome outlander" addressing the captive, Wind maneuvered behind him a dignified reverberation. "This is truly a remarkable weapon you wield." referring to Kaz's decoratively sheathed katana now in the possession of the air-manipulator. Continuing to taunt and question, eventually the room was cleared leaving behind only the ninja mutant known as Fire. His hands caressing the Arashikages' head with calculated intentions. Methodically manipulating his prisoners medulla-oblongata erasing a lifetime of memories while replacing them with a fabricated history. Day after day the cruel punishment was administered morphing the Dark Legacy affiliate into a living weapon of the Golden Dragon clan.

Now:

With his knees folded under his thighs in the traditional Samurai Seiza kneeling technique intrenched in deep meditation, the Exiled LeBeau cataloged a never ending cycle of combat variations as he envisioned the impending war. Situated in front of the martial artist his polished blade rested on the iron carved double headed dragon stand surrounded by religious markings and the symbolic images of the House of the Golden Dragon. His thoughts drifting wildly, violated by images of a woman wishing him luck with love felt emotions. An unsettling familiarity unshakably realistic. Suddenly the mediation tea hut was engulfed with war dressed Ninja's come to retrieve their general. The wooden sliding door was opened and Kazarian summoned, (translated:) "Master, it is time." his eyes opening simultaneously as the message was relayed. Slinging his latest weapon, a handcrafted bow, over his shoulder before grabbing his katana, Kazarian stepped out into the light in front of several rows of black draped killers all ready to die for their newly recognized master. Their loyalty to him only surpassed by their loyalty to the Golden Dragon clan Shogun.

In no time at all both factions of Green and Gold clans were upon the battle field vying for the ultimate prize. The Fearful Four unleashing their maelstrom of powers against the enemy and Kaz's forgotten teammates. Earth strategically focusing on the nearby mountain range igniting an unstoppable landslide in a recklessly ambitious assault. While the Last Arashikage darted through the carnage rapidly slinging arrow after arrow with unequaled speed and breathtaking accuracy. His attention instantly captivated by the redhaired woman from his meditative vision. Slowly drawing his bow back, he took aim before firing, "Goodnight, my beautiful demon."