Getting off my butt is a relief of sorts. I suffered a disappointment and I
think it affected my desire to write for a while. Still, I've long needed to
finish up TP4 with Bert, so I'm gonna try ironing that out with him.
Sorry to all who wander down the Path, I got 'mugged' by Life, the b!(@#.

Here's chapter five, again.

Twister.

     Part Five - Between the Hammer and the Anvil
     --------------------------------------------
     
          "Professor," Twister yawned, belatedly covering his mouth
     with a hand, "just why are we on the Athletics field at 3:00 A.M.?"
     He yawned mightily again, a gesture that was echoed by Bert, who
     was off to his left. 
          His red-haired friend was unhappy to say the least; it was
     bloody early in the morning when he would have preferred to be in
     bed, especially given what had happened earlier in the day. He
     hadn't had any breakfast, and he desperately needed a cup of tea or
     coffee, preferably many more than just one. 
          The professor was unsympathetic to both of them. "This is
     the only time we can do this without worrying about stray people,"
     she told them briskly, brushing her black hair back over her
     shoulders. She seemed untouched by the lateness, or earliness
     depending on your viewpoint, of the hour and was striding across
     the cool, dew-damp field with undiminished vigour. "Given what
     happened before, I'd rather not conduct this particular test inside
     my house."
          "Hold on a second," Bert interrupted, looking worried. This
     was the first time HE had heard that this might be hazardous to his
     health, something he was VERY interested in maintaining. "Just
     what are you planning to do?!" Quite confident in her abilities,
     Miyabi waved away his concerns dismissively.
          "I've worked up a spell that SHOULD determine just how
     you and your suit have been affected by the Wild magic that hit
     you," she told him, unruffled by his nervousness, "because the link
     appears to be so powerful, I'd rather do this out in the open where
     there's no buildings nearby. I presume I don't have to explain why."
          "Nope," Twister agreed, remembering the carnage, and
     headaches, literal and figurative, that had developed as a result of
     the last test. Bert nodded wordlessly, evidently trying to remain
     calm at the prospect of facing magic again. 
          He was not looking forward to it, however.
          They reached the center of the football field, and professor
     Miyabi stopped suddenly. The two young men following her
     looked around; they were standing at the center of the fifty-yard
     line.
          "Somebody going to toss a coin?" Bert asked grumpily.
     "Heads, I go home to bed; tails, I go home to bed." Here it was
     blasted early in the morning, and he was standing in the middle of
     a cold, and very empty football field. Life was so unfair at times.
          "Quit griping," Miyabi retorted irritably, Bert's negative
     attitude beginning to grate on her nerves. "This shouldn't take long,
     and then you can go back to bed." She waved a hand, muttering
     something. A haze they had not even seen seemed to lift, and
     suddenly there was a small stack of equipment nearby. Standing in
     the middle of the pile was the familiar silver-and-blue SkyKnight
     armour. Bert brightened a little at seeing his hardsuit.
          "Uh, professor," Twister asked, noting that there were
     thermos bottles in the equipment pile, "what's in the bottles?"
          "Hot and cold water," she replied, arching an eyebrow
     quizzically. "What did you think they'd be?"
          "Never mind," he sighed tiredly. "You want me to change
     form and use my magic for this too, right?" It seemed a logical
     conclusion to the psionist.
          "I see my classes are fine-tuning your perception," she
     replied dryly. "I also want someone around who isn't affected by
     magic, just in case.  You fill both those bills quite nicely." Twister
     didn't reply, but walked over to the cold water jug. He opened the
     lid, and splashed some of the chilly liquid on himself to trigger the
     change. Darlene shivered as the cold night air gleefully attacked
     her wet skin.
          "All right," she sighed. "Let's get this over with."
          "Hey, that's my line," Bert said. "I'm the one about to get
     fried here." Sympathetic to his plight, Darlene noticed the red-
     head's hands were shaking slightly as he stood watching the
     professor lay out a pair of circles of an intricate design on the flat
     and prepared ground. His suit was already at the center of one of
     them, and it didn't take a huge leap of logic to know what the other
     circle was for. Angry with his nervous reaction, Bert clenched his
     hands into fists and stuck them in his pockets when the Knight
     Saber noticed his currently female and red-headed friend watching
     him. The professor had overheard his remark, however.
          "This is perfectly safe," she assured him. "Don't worry,
     nothing will happen."
          "I've heard that before," the tall red-head sighed. "All right
     then--I stand over there, right?"
                         *****
          "Perfect," a smoothly smiling, red-skinned being stated as
     he steadily watched the shimmering disk of energy floating in
     midair before him. The strangely silvery, mirrored surface of the
     disk showed an overhead view of a grassy field, and the darkness
     of the scene indicated it was nighttime. In the center of the image,
     three people were visible. One was a young, red-haired girl with
     blue eyes, the second was a much older woman with long black
     hair, and the third individual was a tall, broad-shouldered young
     man with unruly red hair.
          It was the third person in the party that currently held
     Malkon's attention. He'd felt the arrival of this mortal called
     `SkyKnight', mostly because it had been accompanied by a magical
     disturbance with a very familiar feel to it. Malkon had
     immediately recognized Twister's female half's `signature' in the
     magic field that had brought SkyKnight to his current location, and
     curiosity had led him to investigate further the new arrival.
          It had been pure luck that he had detected the mortal's
     arrival, really. The now-destroyed magical construct formed of
     Wild Magic that had caused such destruction in his domain in Hell
     hadn't initially led him to believe it was Twister's doing; an
     arch-demon had many enemies in Hell and the power of the thing
     had been far beyond the younger human. But those same enemies
     wouldn't take such a risk to use Wild Magic; it was just too
     unpredictable and very easily turned back on the caster--normally.
     Malkon's attempts to do so in his initial defence had met with a
     rather unimpressive failure. Finally, he had been forced to believe
     it WAS Twister's doing; the power DID have his female side's
     `flavour' to it, he had reluctantly concluded.
          Despite the damage, there was a more pleasant aspect to
     Malkon's situation. Those same enemies in Hell, who had been
     likely to attack him since he was Masterless still, and thus without
     protection of a higher level demon, seemed to have frozen their
     plans to attempt to destroy him. Apparently, they were either
     fearful of getting caught up in a battle with a being who wielded
     Wild Magic of such strength, or else they were interested in what
     Malkon would do next, such entertainment being rare in Hell. The
     arch-demon did not have many options now: either defeat Twister
     and gain control over his magic, or be destroyed by bored rivals.
          Malkon had started cautiously spying on Twister, using
     sophisticated spells to avoid detection of any sort, while using
     divination spells to find out why Twister had attacked him; it
     hadn't seemed like his style.
          What he had discovered was a situation ripe for taking
     advantage of: a dimensionally displaced person, totally unfamiliar
     with his new surroundings, who also appeared to have acquired a
     smaller measure of power from the Event. Malkon had heard every
     word of Darlene's explanation of what had happened in
     Mega-Tokyo, leaving the arch-demon satisfied and intrigued over
     that event. Malkon had studied the situation a bit, and finally
     decided that, somehow, SkyKnight had become a magic sink, and
     the power he appeared to be storing and occasionally accessing,
     had originated from Darlene.
          Which meant that Twister MIGHT have been weakened
     somehow, a thought Malkon found immensely satisfying because
     of the personal destruction of his dwelling the psionist had caused
     him. Weakened or not, there was power to be had. The
     arch-demon grinned at the image of Bert in his viewing portal,
     anticipating his next move. Since the mortal's precipitous arrival,
     Malkon had carefully and covertly probed into SkyKnight's psyche,
     and he believed he now knew all he needed to now about him: he
     was dealing with a headstrong young man who was absolutely
     terrified at the thought of having been affected by magic, even
     though he wouldn't admit it out loud.
          "So you don't want the magic you have acquired?" he
     mused to himself. "Then I shall help relieve you of it. A burden
     such as that should not be borne by one so--inexperienced at
     dealing with true power." Malkon's eyes glowed redly as his own
     Hell-born power flamed higher. The information he'd gleaned on
     SkyKnight would make it easy to trick him into releasing his
     accidentally acquired power.
          And when released, Malkon would take possession of it.
          It was absurdly simple.
          So why was there this nagging feeling that he'd missed
     something bothering him?
                         *****
          His guts feeling as tightly strung as piano wire, Bert stood
     at the center of the rune-inscribed circle, watching as Miyabi
     conferred with Darlene in low tones a few feet away. Part of his
     mind was frantically wishing this was some way out of this. He'd
     never been comfortable around magic, especially since he'd found
     out what it had done--WAS doing to him; he just wanted to get rid
     of it somehow, and go back to being his normal self. Fat chance,
     his mind noted sourly, you're just not that lucky. He took a deep
     breath, trying to control his racing heart as the two female magic
     users turned towards him.
          "Relax," the professor tried soothing him again. "Nothing
     will happen, I promise." He nodded, not fully trusting his voice at
     the moment. His hands were still in his pockets, tightly clenched
     into fists.
          The professor nodded to Darlene; raising their hands, the
     two women started spell-casting. Miyabi chanted a very
     complex-sounding spell, while the younger Darlene cast one of her
     rhyme spells that the professor must have instructed her to use. He
     couldn't understand half of what the professor was saying, and
     wasn't really sure he wanted to know. Darlene, from what he could
     tell, was apparently doing something simpler for the shielding
     circles, lessening Miyabi's burden, although the thought of how she
     was doing this, he shied away from. Bert clenched his jaw tightly,
     taking large breaths and trying to keep from fidgeting nervously.
          A softly-glowing purple light sprang up from the
     rune-marked circles to surround his suit and himself, by the colour
     this was Darlene's contribution, and the red-head suddenly found
     that he couldn't move. He stopped himself just short of dropping
     off the edge into panicking and summoning his suit at that
     realization. He had to trust them and try and relax; calling on
     anything even remotely connected to his `power' right now would
     horribly warp and distort anything magical near him. Bert really
     didn't want to be inside of another explosion like that last time;
     given the implied scale of magic involved this time around, it
     would probably be like sitting in the middle of a small nuclear
     reactor if it became disrupted. 
          The glow from the circles intensified, and stretched
     upwards, enveloping the red-haired Knight Saber and his hardsuit
     in translucent columns of light. Beyond the purple photonic haze,
     he could still see the professor and Darlene gesturing. So far,
     everything appeared to be going okay.
          Miyabi jerked her hands down, unleashing her spell.
          Abruptly, a bright white light flared in Bert's vision,
     obscuring everything.
                         *****
          "And....now," Malkon breathed, a smug smile of
     self-satisfaction flitting across his demonic features. A brilliant
     shaft of magical energy lashed out from his taloned hand, and
     vanished into the silvery viewing field that hovered in front of him.
     The disk turned a murky white. His smile vanishing into a stern
     frown, the arch-demon concentrated on the spell that would add to
     his considerable power.
                         *****
          Bert groggily shook his head, trying to clear the flashing
     sparks from his mind and eyes. Whatever that spell effect had
     been, it had been blinding, and he still felt a little...strange? He
     opened his eyes, suddenly realizing that something wasn't quite
     right. When he looked down at himself, fear sliced through him
     with the keenness of razor blades and his heartbeat began
     pounding in his ears.
          He was sitting in a wooden chair, and very tightly lashed to
     it, with his arms tied behind him! Swallowing against a suddenly
     very dry mouth, Bert strained at the ropes binding him. It couldn't
     be, not again! Good God, PLEASE not that again!!!!!! his mind
     shrieked. The ropes held, and he slumped back against the chair,
     his breathing harsh with stomach-wrenching fear.
          "So you're awake again at last?" a smooth,
     cultured-sounding voice inquired, the voice he usually only heard
     in his worst nightmares. "Good. Now perhaps we can get back to
     where we stopped our discussion," Hollister remarked
     conversationally, sitting on the edge of a table. His icy blue eyes
     glittered sadistically, a sly, taunting smirk on his face. The
     grey-suited, blond-haired man was sitting next to an awfully
     familiar-looking amplifier unit, and SkyKnight could see the wires
     running from it.
          Attached to electrodes that were stuck on him.
          "No," he breathed hoarsely, sweating as he pulled
     frantically at the ropes again. "This isn't happening! I escaped!!!"
     Hollister snorted derisively, shaking his head in mockery.
          "You tried, you mean," he corrected. "A valiant effort, but
     pointless really. No one gets away from me." Hollister reached out
     and patted him insultingly on the head. "You might have made it,
     if you hadn't insisted on trying to rescue the sexaroids."
          "You're lying!!" the tall red-head snarled, shaking his head
     in violent denial and straining to break free again. "This isn't
     happening!!!"
          "Still a bit delusional, I see. Well, that's to be expected;
     most people are dead after three days of what you've been through.
     Stubborn, aren't you?" Hollister smiled in what was supposed to be
     a genial way; however, all the teeth he was showing made it
     resemble the bared fangs of a rabid wolf. "Let's resume where we
     left off, shall we?" SkyKnight writhed helplessly, howling in agony
     as his tormentor flicked the switch on the electrical amplifier.
          "Go .... to .... HELL!!!" he hissed through his teeth, shaking
     from the pain that coursed through him. He didn't know what was
     happening to him, but it was impossible that this was happening
     now. He'd escaped Hollister, and succeeded in rescuing his friends!
     There was no way that he'd just hallucinated everything that had
     happened to him in a brief period of unconsciousness, especially
     not the inter-dimensional landing in Twister's universe. His
     subconscious wasn't THAT weird--he hoped so, anyway.
          "I'll need a better answer than that," Hollister said suavely.
     He tabbed the switch again.
          "AAAAAAARRRRGHH!!!" SkyKnight convulsed again,
     almost crying from the pain. This couldn't be happening, damn it!!
     Anger suddenly ripped through him, overpowering everything else.
     Without even realizing he was doing it, he reached inside himself
     for something he'd briefly had access to earlier.
          It was there, faint and pulsing, a warm glow that promised
     power, the power to free himself and strike back at his foe, but it
     was tenuous at best. Something was interfering with his access to
     it. He squirmed frantically in his bonds, trying to establish a firmer
     hold on it.
          Desperate people can accomplish amazing things in times
     of high stress, but Bert had barely got a 'grip' on the power when
     something unexpected happened. The power, once a thing
     extremely hard to reach, rushed into him like a living being.
           Or, at least, directed by one.
     
                         *****
          "AAAAAAAAARRRRRGH!!!!!!!!"
          Accompanying the pained scream, a flaring explosion of
     bright white and purple light burst from the twin circles inscribed
     on the turf of the athletic field, completely obscuring the
     red-headed Knight Saber and his silver-enamelled armour. Caught
     unprepared, Darlene and Miyabi were flung backwards by the
     blast, and both mages lay stunned on the grass for a moment, their
     magical senses momentarily blinded and dazed by the eruption's
     mystic 'shockwave'. The nimbus of light concealing SkyKnight
     throbbed and pulsed angrily, running through the entire spectrum
     of colours as it hummed like a high-voltage wire.
                         *****
          All over the city, anyone with even the slightest trace of
     magic sensitivity was rudely jarred out of a sound sleep by a
     violent blast of noise that was beyond normal hearing. Harsh and
     brutal, the noise was terrifying in its intensity, like being next to a
     volcano when it erupted.
          With a strangled shriek, Natsumi sat bolt upright in her
     bed, her green eyes wide with fear. Shivering uncontrollably, she
     lay back, gathering the blankets around her again, trying to seek
     the solace of sleep again. Whatever had caused the massive
     disturbance was still out there somewhere; there was the sense of
     an oppressive magical field, like the low pressure region of a
     thunderstorm, but it was muted now with distance.
          She closed her eyes trying to ignore the uncomfortable
     feeling and relax enough to fall asleep again. She started dreamily
     thinking of `her' knight-in-shining-armour, trying to soothe herself
     with thoughts of the tall, red-haired young man, and how
     handsome he'd been.... Her eyes abruptly flew open again as she
     suddenly recognized the `feel' of the magic disturbance that had
     woken her.
          Sleep forgotten, Natsumi leaped out of bed, and started
     throwing on whatever clothes she could find.
                         *****
          Groggily, Darlene rolled over and painfully crawled
     towards the thermos bottles laying nearby. The emanations from
     the magical field a few metres away clawed at her, trying to drag
     her back into unconsciousness. She grimly fought back against it,
     finally reaching the bottles. The red-head shakily uncorked the hot
     water bottle and slopped the hot water on herself. Now male,
     Twister sighed in relief as his reversion to his magic-immune form
     silenced the magical shockwaves crashing around in his head.
          Professor Miyabi didn't have the luxury of magic immunity,
     however, and was on her knees clutching at her temples in severe
     pain, just barely hanging on to awareness. Twister immediately
     sprinted over to her, and tried to project a shield that would screen
     out the wild magical emanations from SkyKnight.
          "What....what's happening?!" she gasped, clutching at him
     as he tried to help her to her feet. "The spell wasn't supposed to
     produce anything close to this! What went wrong?!"
          "I don't know," the young psionist replied helplessly,
     glancing at the chaotic, amuck spell, "but we'd better come up with
     a way to shut if off, and fast. I don't know what's happening to Bert
     in there, but it didn't sound pleasant."
          "THIS IS NOT WHAT WAS INTENDED!" a powerful
     voice boomed from the depths of the magic field, startling them
     both. Harsh and resonant, it rattled the teeth of any nearby listeners
     with its unquestionable authority. 
          "AND IT WILL END. NOW."
                         *****
          Malkon smiled to himself; everything was working
     perfectly. He'd managed to slide his little spell into Miyabi's,
     unnoticed by anyone. She and Twister might be powerful mages,
     but the arch-demon had centuries, millennia even, more of
     experience at being devious; it had been childishly easy to
     magically link his mind to SkyKnight's, and start extracting what
     he wanted.
          He glanced down at the astral form he was `wearing' at the
     moment. It was interesting how someone as vicious and evil as
     Hollister seemed to be could look so harmless on the exterior. He'd
     almost forgotten how treacherous mortals could be. He'd have to
     look up this `Hollister' fellow if he ever got the chance; the man
     had potential.
          The arch-demon returned his attention to his prey,
     watching the magically trapped Knight Saber writhe as he tried to
     access the power he'd been imbued with. Like Malkon had figured,
     resurrecting the spectre of his interrogation ordeal had driven Bert
     almost frantic with fear. As a result, he'd instinctively tried
     drawing on the power, wanting to free himself and get away.
     Malkon smiled again, raising a hand before his eyes, watching the
     growing purple aura surrounding him become brighter yet. 
          What SkyKnight did not realize was that in reaching for the
     source of his new-found powers, he had allowed Malkon access to
     it as well, making it easy for the arch-demon to start diverting it to
     himself. As a result, despite his tortured straining, SkyKnight was
     helpless to do anything while Malkon gained in strength. The
     demonic being resisted the urge to start laughing triumphantly; it
     wasn't in keeping with his image at the moment, it wasn't his style,
     and it could disrupt his spell.
          The power flow suddenly ebbed, and actually began to
     reverse itself. Frowning, Malkon traced the power flow back to its
     red-haired source, wondering what the problem was; it was
     impossible that the mortal he was draining could do that. He was
     untutored, and hadn't even the barest amount of control necessary
     to control his energy properly.  The head of the uncontrollably
     shaking young man suddenly snapped up to regard the disguised
     arch-demon. With something akin to a shock, Malkon realized that
     SkyKnight's eyes were glowing incandescently purple.
          "YOU OVERSTEP YOURSELF, SERVANT OF HELL," a
     voice thundered, apparently coming from his captive.
     "INTERFERENCE IN THIS MATTER WILL NOT BE
     TOLERATED."
          There was a loud, echoing thunderclap that smashed the
     arch-demon backwards, reeling in pain. Before his amazed sight, a
     towering, silver armour suit coalesced into existence around the
     red-headed young man as the chair and ropes that had been
     binding him disintegrated.
          "And now, thou lowest of life forms," SkyKnight snarled in
     a no longer Godlike voice, advancing menacingly on what he
     thought was Hollister. "Thou shalt taste the fires of vengeance!"
          Malkon immediately cut off his linking spell and retreated,
     vanishing a split second before a crimson and purple energy bolt
     spat through where he'd been standing. There would always be
     other opportunities.
          And obviously more mysteries and secrets to uncover than
     he had originally thought.
                         *****
          Twister winced, squeezing watering eyes shut as he threw
     an arm over his face to shield it from the solar-intensity light that
     erupted anew from the area of the magic spell, accompanied by a
     sound reminiscent of a sonic boom. Professor Miyabi did the
     same, stifling an agonized groan as the magical interference again
     pounded at her; even shielded by Twister, she was still feeling the
     shocks from the stray Wild Magic in the area.
          The brown-haired young psionist lowered his arm
     cautiously, watching disbelievingly as the energy field suddenly
     shrank, sinking in on itself like an implosion of space-time. The
     seething energy dimmed as it retreated, vanishing into the
     armoured figure standing at the middle of the energy disturbance.
     SkyKnight's silver-armoured form was shaking violently, as if he
     had been directly connected to a high-voltage line.
          "SkyKnight?! Bert?! Are you okay?!" Twister shouted,
     sprinting towards his friend. The glowing eyeslot in the silver
     helmet lifted, looking at him.
          " `Nothing will happen.' Right," the weary voice from
     inside the helmet came faintly. Bert's knees buckled, and he
     pitched over on his face with a loud clang before Twister could
     catch him. Just as the psionist reached the fallen suit, jagged white
     cracks of light raced across the armoured form. As the startled
     psionist skidded to a stop, the silver armour sizzled, then burst
     asunder in a spinning spray of redly-glowing pieces, leaving an
     unconscious red-haired young man laying unharmed on the grass.
     Twister's stomach dropped lower than his shoes as he watched the
     hardsuit fragments disintegrate, the pieces vanishing before they
     could hit the grass.
          "Somehow, I don't think this is a good sign," he understated
     as Miyabi unsteadily came up beside him. "Do you think it's all
     right to move him?"
          "At this point I don't think things could get worse," Miyabi
     sighed.
          "Bert! BEEERRTTT!!!" a female voice that sounded like it
     was getting closer cried out. 
          Natsumi.
          "Of course I have been wrong before," she added wryly,
     then rose unsteadily on her feet. Twister caught her, concern in his
     hazel eyes.
          "Maybe I should Heal you--we were both pretty close to the
     'blast' of energy." Miyabi hesitated for a moment then nodded her
     acquiescence. Blue energy shone from where his hands supported
     her and a few seconds later the magic teacher's face cleared and
     wore an expression of bliss as the pain faded away.
          "Thank you, Twister," she said gratefully, and, able to
     support herself, removed his hands. "I must have one of the few
     students in the world who can both cause or remove headaches."
     Both chuckled a bit at her statement, then, more seriously, turned
     to the still form of Bert, who still lay silent on the ground.
          Just then Natsumi came running up to the pair, and took in
     the still figure of the tall red-head on the ground. Whirling to
     Miyabi, she began, "He's not--" 
          Her teacher shook her head. "No, just unconscious." The
     younger magic-user relaxed even as Miyabi, privately concerned,
     frowned down at the silent form. "I just can't understand what went
     wrong to create such a fiasco like this. I suppose every magic-user
     in the city must have felt the blast of magical energies." She sighed
     and flipped back an errant lock of her long hair. "I'm going to have
     a lot of explaining to do over the next week starting now. You'd
     better take him home, Twister, I suspect he's going to be weakened
     a great deal after this so he'll need rest."
          After awkwardly picking up the big red-head, Twister
     sighed. "It's going to be interesting explaining what happened to
     his suit. See you later, professor, Natsumi." And silently, he
     vanished with his unconscious passenger.
          "I hope he'll be all right," Natsumi said, worried,
     unconsciously wringing her hands.
          "He should be," Miyabi replied distractedly as she walked
     into the circle where Bert had lain, studying the ground intently to
     she if she could find anything wrong. There had to be
     SOMETHING to account for her spell's rather spectacular failure,
     decades of experience were on her side, after all. 
          Wait...
          Miyabi straightened, thinking she had imagined smelling
     the extremely faint odour. She tried inhaling deeper, and again it
     was there. Lips tightened in a concerned frown as she placed it.
          Her nose was picking up traces of brimstone?
          Unnoticed by anyone, a shadowy shape that was lurking at
     the edge of the athletic field sighed wearily, shook its head, then
     vanished.
                         *****
          Out of a darkness blissfully free of dream or nightmare,
     Bert registered that he had woken up without opening his eyes. 
          Where am I? he thought, confused and disoriented for a
     moment. Then memory painfully returned and he snapped his eyes
     open in shock, closing them immediately when bright white light
     seared his optics.
          "Oh God, turn off that damn sun already," he groaned
     weakly. "I've got enough on my mind now."
          "Kinda hard to turn off a fusion reaction on the spur of the
     moment, Bert, even for early morning risers."
          Twister's familiar voice directed Bert into an ugly frame of
     mind, even for his usual morning self. "What the HELL happened
     last nig... Oh, so sorry, god damn it, this MORNING?!?" He
     squinted his eyes open and could see the brown-haired psionist
     looking at him in concern.
          "You probably know more than we do."
          Not wanting to remember the unpleasant details of THAT
     episode, Bert registered  the lousy state of his body at last and it
     did not improve his mood in the least. "Dammit! I can barely lift
     my own arm!" And it was true, the feeble attempt under the cover
     that had been placed on him only showed a shaking attempt to
     raise his limb. Concerned, Twister frowned.
          "That's not good. Whatever happened must have really
     wiped you out."
          "Brilliant observation, Sherlock," the prone red-head
     snarled, making Twister shake his head. 
          "You'd better go down and get something to eat, and lots of
     tea for you." He knew Bert was a bear waking up, but the
     redhead's steady glare was going a notch above even that.
          "And just how, oh wise one, do you propose I do that if I
     can't even lift my own bloody arm?!?" Bert snapped.
          Twister tried some humour. "Ve hav vays ov makink you
     valk." he said in a phony Russian accent. It failed miserably.
          "Oh, bloody perfect," was the growled response.
                         *****
          After the third LARGE tankard of steaming tea, Bert's
     mood improved remarkably. He just wished that whatever had
     caused him to wake hadn't been so bloody eager to jump the gun.
     Christ, Ranma and Genma had just started sparring and Akane had
     not returned from her early morning jog yet. Kasumi was preparing
     breakfast, after making some tea for Bert, in her usual cheerful
     manner. The only ones at the table were him, Twister, and Soun.
     Nabiki was doing what more sane people did at this time: sleeping.
          God, he felt lousy. Even drinking was an effort. It wasn't
     helping Bert any either to have Twister watching him like a bloody
     hawk all the time. He shivered at the image the predator metaphor
     brought to mind. Hollister.
          "You okay, Bert?"
          Bert looked at the psionist. Twister couldn't touch him
     directly with his powers, but he had made the way downstairs ten
     times easier by using air psi-held in place to support the red-head.
     It had been eerie, being supported by thin air, literally. Rock-hard
     at the onset, but almost like a cushion when Twister had loosened
     his hold on the air molecules. The end result was that it had looked
     like Bert had walked down on his own, if barely, rather than his
     real jelly-like condition.
          "Yes, Twister, I'm fine. Other than feeling like a run-over
     moose that had the semi that did it back up over me and do it one
     more time to make sure it got the job done. Sure. I'm juuust fine."
          Twister snorted, amused. "You know--I thought caffeine
     IMPROVED your mood in the morning."
          "Har har har, hardy har-har," was Bert's sour reply. "And
     how come YOU look so awake? You must've been watching me
     all night." Twister shrugged helplessly.
          "Haven't a clue. I just wasn't tired."
          Bert sighed, disgusted. "Perfect."
          Nabiki made her semi-awake appearance and sat down at
     the table. "Glumphorning," she grunted out.
          "I'll save my `good morning' until I'm sure it'd register,"
     Twister said with a smile. Nabiki turned to Bert, eyes half-open
     and filled with early-morning grumpiness.
          "Should I do something horrible to him later to pay him
     back for that remark?" Bert grinned, cheered for the first time that
     day.
          "Go ahead."
          Twister sighed theatrically at the unfairness of being
     outnumbered, Soun not being counted of course. Akane, flushed
     from the exhilaration of her jog, arrived then.
          "Hi, Bert, are you okay? I heard that this morning didn't go
     too well."
          "That's putting it mildly. I can barely move, but yeah, I'm
     okay."
          "HEY, LET GO, OLD MAN!!" Ranma's voice volleyed
     through the back door of the dojo. A moment later there was a
     thundering explosion of water in the backyard pond, followed by
     the sounds of someone hacking and coughing. "Dammit!"
     Ranma-chan's voice angry voice came to them. A low, threatening
     growl was Genma's response. "Whyda have to get me wet too, old
     man?!?"
          "Oh good, Ranma and Mr. Saotome are done," Kasumi
     observed brightly. "I'll bring breakfast out."
          Bert's stomach grumbled loudly, reminding him that he
     hadn't eaten for a while and that he had been through a lot lately.
     "Thank God," he mumbled, taking another large gulp of tea. Then
     Ranma-chan stepped into view and he choked on said gulp.
          "Damn it, old man, I HATE getting wet!" she protested,
     wringing her top again in her hands to get the water out. It being in
     her hands, there was nothing on her torso which was the cause of
     Bert's intensely red face and subsequent coughing fit.
          "Hey, are ya alright, Bert?" she queried innocently,
     concerned at this odd behaviour and stepped beside him to pound
     on his back. For some reason, however, this only made things
     worse as Bert's reddish face turned yet more crimson, being level
     with Ranma-chan's shaking breasts.
          "Ranma, turn around already before you make him die
     from embarrassment," Twister said, trying not to laugh. Nabiki had
     a smirk on her face, while Akane looked angry.
          "Huh?" Ranma-chan blinked in confusion, then
     comprehension dawned at last. Red-faced, she stepped back and
     turned around to quickly put her wet top back on. Was now dry as
     Twister had used his TK to blow hot air through the material, air-
     drying clothes a habit he had gotten used to during his stay with
     the Tendos..
          "Recovered, Bert?" Twister asked when the red-head
     finally calmed down.
          Coughing one last time, flushing redly, Bert said,
     "Ye...Yeah. The breast...uh," he reddened more when he realized
     what he just said, "...um...TEA went down wrong tube! Yeah, that's
     it. That's all." God, could the day get any worse? he thought angrily
     to himself, trying to drive away the mental image of the half-naked
     Ranma-chan as it was STILL making him blush.
          "Couldn't you have left your shirt ON, Ranma? We DO
     have a guest, you know!" Akane told Ranma-chan angrily.
          "Hey, I'm a guy, remember!"
          "Not right now, you stupid pervert!"
          "Why you...."
          Thankfully, Kasumi put the food on the table just then,
     forcing the two to limit their insults as they ate.
          Bert was still bright red when Twister helped him back
     upstairs, having failed to rid himself of images of the half-naked
     Ranma-chan. Unfortunately, the sight had prompted him to
     remember the time he'd accidentally stepped in on Nene when she
     had been showering.
          Just--bloody--perfect.
                         *****
          "Doesn't she, HE I mean, know how bloody distracting that
     is to any red-blooded male?!?" Bert exclaimed from the bed,
     putting a hand on his forehead tiredly.
          "Not really," Twister admitted. Bert peered suspiciously at
     the psionist's unusually calm reaction to the feminine exposure.
          "YOU weren't embarrassed."
          "Normally, I am rather body-shy, but not with Ranma," the
     psionist admitted. "The fact that it feels like I'm looking at a mirror
     whenever he is a she helps quite a lot."
          Bert smacked his head, and said, "Doh!" remembering that
     Twister and Ranma shared the same cursed form and... He
     mentally groaned when double-images of Ranma-chan sprang up,
     then Nene too.
          This isn't working, he thought, frustrated at his inability to
     clear his mind. "What happened outside during that so-called
     `harmless' spell, anyhow?" he quickly asked the brown-haired
     psionist to distract himself. Twister furrowed his brows in
     remembrance.
          "Everything seemed to be under control till you screamed,
     then me and the professor were flung backwards. No, we landed
     okay," he added quickly, seeing Bert's look of concern, "but the
     usual magical shockwave that always accompanies one of your
     magical blasts resulted, and kept on going continuously. I managed
     to reach a hot water thermos before I was knocked unconscious,
     and Professor Miyabi wasn't far behind me. We couldn't do much
     but wait and hope you were okay. When the light stopped,"
     Twister hesitated and looked at Bert for a moment before
     continuing, "you were in the SkyKnight armour."
          "Yeah, I think I remember wanting it, vaguely," Bert
     interrupted absently. He stopped when he noticed Twister's
     uncertain look and felt the other shoe was about to drop.  
          "You fell unconscious, started to fall, and--" the psionist
     took a deep breath, "--the armour cracked open, flying apart into
     pieces which disappeared. Miyabi contacted me while you were
     out and she can't find it anywhere." He paused, letting it sink in.
          "I think it's destroyed, Bert."
          The misplaced Knight Saber stared at him with wide-eyed
     shock. "Des troyed?" he said in a stunned manner. How could his
     armour have been destroyed?? It was the toughest hardsuit he and
     Sylia had created yet; that it could crumble like tinfoil in the way
     Twister described was just plain IMPOSSIBLE!
          And just WHAT since he had come to this crazy place
     HADN'T been impossible?! he snarled in his thoughts, anger easily
     surging to the fore. The only thing that he had of home
     TOTALLED, with absolutely NOTHING left of it because of the
     insane magic that had been dogging him since getting here!!!
          Twister noticed the almost instant change in his mood.
     "Are you okay?" he asked, plainly concerned.
          "Leave," the red-head said flatly.
          "What?"
          "I said LEAVE damn it! Get OUT!!" Bert shouted with
     burning eyes, causing the psionist to recoil. The red-head didn't
     really give a damn what the other thought at the moment; all he
     represented was another reminder of what had happened. Twister
     seemed to sense this, or didn't know what to say. In either case, the
     psionist left the room with an unreadable expression.
          Good.
          Bert slammed his fist down on the bed as hard as he could,
     given his current weakened state.
          "DAMN IT, WHY!?!?!?"
                         *****
          Leaning on the door outside, Twister winced from the guilt
     he felt when he heard Bert's shout. He could imagine how much
     the suit had meant to his new friend, especially now being so far
     from home. It was a symbol, a link, for Bert, and for it to be
     destroyed without any means of building another at the moment...
          "Damn."
          "What happened?" Nabiki's question startled Twister, who
     had not paid attention to her quiet presence. He shook his head and
     gave a sigh leaden with the feeling of somehow failing his new
     friend.
          "His armour was essentially disintegrated because of what
     happened this morning," he informed her. That widened her eyes
     and a faint look of concern crossed her face.
          "I guess he's upset."
          "Since nothing like that was supposed to happen, yeah, big
     time." He sighed. "I'm not sure what to do right now."
          "Let it lie for a day," Nabiki waved her hand. "Right now
     it's a big shock to him, later he'll be more rational."
          "You sure?"
          "It works with Akane."
          He sighed. "Well, I have nothing better off hand so I'll wait
     for tomorrow. I'll ask Kasumi to take a lot of food up since he's
     still recovering; I suppose it wasn't a good idea to take him down
     for breakfast in the first place." He raised an eyebrow at Nabiki's
     amused face.
          "Not after seeing Ranma anyway," she noted with amused
     sarcasm.
          They exchanged a grin.
                         *****
          Twister returned to his apartment and, as Yasuro was not
     there, worked on a few things to take his mind off Bert's problem.
     There was plenty to do: finish a bit more of that optical computer;
     create a small, magical base for it's future power needs; practice
     low-power psionic effects with the tricks he'd seen Madagan do
     and duplicated; try mental discipline damping his aura when trying
     something above-normal psi; and so on. It kept him busy and didn't
     tire him as all of it was mostly easy practice. Still, Twister worried
     about Bert.
          As it turned out, he had a right to be.
     
     THE NEXT DAY.....
     
          Sunlight slashed through the slats in the blinds on the
     windows, relentlessly penetrating the gloom of the darkened room.
     The stray light streams gently fell across the closed eyes of the
     lightly-snoring red-headed young man sprawled untidily in the bed.
     The warmth of the sunlight was what initially roused him from
     slumber, and when he unwisely opened his eyes, the photons
     assaulting his retinas completed his awakening. Bert gave a pained
     yelp, and threw an arm over his upper face, as his eyes watered
     from the brilliant haze that appeared to be floating in his eyeballs
     now.
          Rolling over onto his side so that he wasn't being blinded
     anymore, he carefully opened his eyes and looked around. The
     clock on the wall indicated that it was about 6:00 A.M.. Perfect;
     he'd woken up again at a hellishly early hour. Normally, he
     wouldn't have minded, except for the fact that here he had nothing,
     absolutely nothing to do.
          He sat up on the bed--or tried to; an incredible weakness
     rushed up and seized him in its talons, making anything other than
     rolling over almost out of the question. Instantly, irrational anger
     surged from the depths of his mind; bad enough his suit was
     destroyed, he could still barely move!!!!
          As he lay there, mentally seething over his bed-ridden
     condition, the restless desire to move washed over him again.
     Once again, he tried to move...and promptly fell of the bed. It
     wasn't a long drop, but it still hurt to land in a sprawled heap on
     the floor. It looked goddamn undignified to boot.
          Frustrated almost to the point of crying over his incapacity,
     Bert gritted his teeth as he tried to shove himself off the floor.
     Damn it, with everything that had been done to him, why couldn't
     he have been given a power that was USEFUL?!?! Healing would
     have been a nice one to have for example...
          Something inside him clicked.
          The Knight Saber stiffened as he was suddenly enveloped
     by a racing red aura for a split-second. Gasping for air, he slumped
     back to the floor, raising a trembling hand and wiping away the
     sweat from his forehead. For a moment, it had felt like he'd been
     baking in a kiln. Sitting up, he winced and stretched, then froze
     abruptly. Slowly, Bert raised his hand in front of his face with no
     noticeable effort. He was moving normally again! How in the...?!
          Mind whirling in confusion, he staggered to his feet, and
     over to the bedroom door. After listening for a moment, he
     cautiously made his way to the bathroom, closing and locking the
     door behind him. Running the sink full of cold water, he splashed
     it all over his face, trying to clear his mind and refresh himself. He
     stared into the mirror as he took a deep breath. Think logically--
     one minute he'd been unable to move, the next he'd been back to
     normal. Had he healed himself? 
          In the back of his mind was the hazy memory of doing so
     once before during that incident with Kodachi, but he couldn't
     remember how he'd done it. Just like a few minutes ago, his mind
     was blank when it came to the question of how he'd done it. Magic
     was undoubtedly the cause, but he couldn't even begin to explain
     how he'd done what he'd done.
          Slamming his hand down on the edge of the sink as he
     leaned on it, Bert continued to stare at his reflection in the mirror.
     Why, why, WHY couldn't he remember what had happened when
     he'd been inadvertently using his `power'?!?! Was it affecting his
     mind? His temper, easily roused lately, began to flare again.  WHY
     had this been done to him?!?!
          As he raised clenched fists in frustration, intending to bang
     them on the bathroom counter again, he caught sight of his
     reflection.
          And saw RED balefully glowing eyes staring back at him
     from the reflective glass. It reminded him all to much of a crazed
     Boomer.
          "NO!!!" He was across the bathroom, his back plastered to
     the far wall before he even realized it, cold sweat breaking out all
     over him. Unable to tear his gaze away from the mirror, he
     watched as the red glow faded from the eyes of his panicked
     reflection.
          The minute the glow disappeared, he was out the door and
     down the hallway. A few scant minutes later he was dressed, and
     walking rapidly down the hallway as quietly as he could. The calm
     facade Bert was trying to maintain cracked when he reached the
     top of the stairs, and he was down them in three long-legged
     bounds. As the red-head sprinted for the front door of the dojo,
     cutting through the dining room, Ranma stepped into the room,
     adjusting his gi in preparation for his usual morning practice
     session.
          "Hey Bert, what's the rush? Where are you going?" The
     young martial artist looked surprised to see him up, and moving,
     but his tone sounded friendly enough. Bert, however, wasn't in a
     frame of mind suited for talking, and didn't stop.
          "OUT!!! Leave me alone!!" he snarled as he blindly shot
     past the young Saotome.
          Ranma watched the agitated red-headed young man run out
     the dojo entrance as if being pursued by a pack of demonic fiends,
     a slightly puzzled frown on his face. After a moment, he shrugged
     and went to meet his father for practice.
                         *****
          Somewhere else in the city, a shadowy, insubstantial figure
     stiffened and lifted its head as if scenting something disturbing. It
     cocked its head in a listening posture, then sighed deeply, sounding
     old and tired for some reason.
          "Begun now it has," the figure muttered to itself quietly.
     "And unforeseen the results."
                         *****
          "Just leave the pot," Bert told the waitress, his voice
     hoarse. "I may need another one in a few minutes." The young
     waitress nodded dubiously, giving him a look that plainly said she
     thought he was nuts. Shrugging to herself, she turned to serving the
     other patrons of the campus donut shop, leaving the nearly full
     coffee pot sitting on the table next to the agitated customer.
          Bert was unaware of her leaving; his gaze was fixed on the
     mug of coffee held in white-knuckled grip. The wrappers from
     half-a-dozen donuts sat in a crumpled wad nearby. With iron
     control, he lifted the mug and took a drink, trying desperately to
     keep his hands from shaking.
          He'd spent the last two hours trying to convince himself
     using a combination of caffeine and sugar that he had been
     dreaming about what he'd seen when looking into the mirror, but it
     hadn't worked. Instead, all the red-head accomplished was to
     terrify himself further at what was happening to him. It seemed to
     the engineer as if the magic he'd been `given' was not content to
     merely strip him of his hardsuit, but now it was working on
     changing him inside somehow. His skin crawled at the idea.
          In the back of his mind, there was a shrieking, raging
     defiance that was railing against what had been done to him, but
     with no real outlet for it, he felt helpless, exposed. How could you
     fight against something invisible and intangible? Especially when
     it was something inside yourself? Bert took another draught of
     coffee, emptying his mug. He refilled it and resumed drinking as
     his mind ran in screaming circles. Until his depressed musings
     were interrupted.
          "So, knave, we meet again!" The pompous voice was
     unmistakable; Bert didn't have to look over to know that there was
     a tall young man with a wooden sword, wearing a purple kendo
     outfit standing next to his table: Tatewaki Kuno. He didn't reply,
     and kept his gaze on his mug, hoping that the moron would take
     the hint and leave.
          No such luck.
          "Are you afraid to face me, you rogue?! Stand, for I would
     look you in the eyes when I challenge you!" Kuno commanded.
     "The vengeance of heaven is slow but sure: I intend to demand
     satisfaction for my honour, and for the honour of my poor sister,
     whom you assaulted unjustly the other day!"
          "Unjustly?!" Bert was unable to keep the derisive snort
     from escaping as he spared the angry kendo practitioner a
     sideways glance. "Defending yourself against a lunatic with
     explosives is unjust now, is it?" He turned his attention back to his
     drink, topping off his mug with the last portion of coffee in the
     pot. Adding cream and sugar to his hot drink, stirring them in, he
     became dimly aware that the coffee shop had become curiously
     vacant all of a sudden.
          "And you add slander to your list of crimes as well!" Kuno
     proclaimed in a disbelieving tone. "Stand, you villain!"
          "Kuno, don't make me angry," the tall red-head warned in a
     suddenly glacial voice. "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry." In
     the back of his mind was a dim sense of alarm; it was almost like
     someone else had spoken. Bert clamped down on the rising
     irritation within him; this was NOT a time to lose his temper,
     especially since he wasn't sure what the consequences would be.
     He raised his mug to take another swig.
          And ended up with half a mug of hot coffee spilling into
     his lap as Kuno's wooden sword sliced through the mug before he
     could get it to his mouth.
          Bert stoically bore the painful burning from the coffee
     soaking into his jeans as he very slowly stood and dropped enough
     change to cover his tab on the table. Barely holding himself in
     check as he turned away from Kuno, he intended to just walk
     away. He didn't want a fight; all he wanted was some time to be
     alone so he could think some more. So he started walking towards
     the door of the coffee shop.
          "Don't you walk away from me, you coward!! Stand and
     fight!!" Some vague sixth sense warned SkyKnight, Bert feeling
     his combat persona slowly coming to the fore, and he started to
     spin back towards the irate swordsman when there was a loud
     thwack. Pain exploded in his side, just below the ribs. The force of
     the strike hurled him sideways, sending him smashing into a
     cluster of large planters near the counter. The tall red-head went
     down in a tangle of slender tree trunks, leaves and dirt, and lay
     very still. Kuno regarded the prone form for a minute, then
     lowered his sword, nodding to himself in satisfaction.
          "Thus is justice served," he proclaimed arrogently, "and
     honour satisfied."
          He was more than a little surprised when Bert's eyes
     snapped open, revealing an incandescent red glow. The glow
     quickly suffused his body, and he stood easily, with no apparent
     injury from Kuno's blow. The glow remained, however, and began
     to intensify.
          "I warned you," the cold voice came from the red-head.
     "Reap now the fruits of your heedlessness." SkyKnight was
     absolutely coldly furious; he'd tried to avoid it, but the thickheaded
     numbskull had pushed the issue, and him, beyond the point of
     reason. No longer resisting, he embraced the thrumming power
     he'd somehow tapped into again, drawing it into him.
          Kuno backed away, his face a study in dumbfounded
     surprise, as red lightning began to crackle in the air around his
     opponent. The air in the coffee shop turned hot and stifling as the
     energy haze became more and more intense. Anything electrical
     within twenty feet of the enraged Knight Saber suddenly
     overloaded and exploded.
          In the center of the developing energy storm, Bert was lost
     in an almost indescribable feeling of euphoria. It felt--awesome!!!
     Why the hell had he been resisting it?! His anger snarled in savage
     exultation at the back of his mind, released from its usual
     constraints and glorying in the heady feelings of the power he now
     seemed to be wielding. Now he could extract some measure of
     revenge for everything that had been done to him, starting with the
     pompous jerk with the sword. The only thing detracting from his
     moment of triumph was the absence of his suit.
          Glowing red eyes abruptly widened in surprise, and a huge
     grin spread across his face as a thought that had never occurred to
     him before cropped up. Magic had destroyed his suit, so wouldn't
     it follow that magic could rebuild it? After all, Twister had said
     the pieces had only vanished: could his hardsuit be recovered and
     restored?  He felt like there was nearly limitless energy at his
     disposal now--why not make use of it? SkyKnight's fists clenched
     as he bent his will to modulating the raging magical energies
     within him. He delved back into his memory of two nights ago,
     when the professor's spell had backfired, trying to see the instant
     when his suit had been taken from him.
          And within seconds, he knew instinctively what he had to
     do; an instant understanding of the spells that had taken place that
     night was in his mind.
     There was something just beyond his awareness that he could
     sense all he had to do was reeeeaaacccchhhh--
          "YESSSS!!!!!!!!!!!" The exultant shout, and the brilliant
     red-lit thunderclap that followed it blasted the glass from the
     windows of the coffee shop, showering the street outside with
     jagged fragments. Kuno staggered out the gaping doorway a
     moment later, shaking his head dazedly and trying to clear his head
     from the effects of what had occurred inside.
          A towering robotic shape, covered in brilliant silver armour
     plating shouldered through the door a moment later, wrenching the
     door frame from the brickwork at the same time. The recreated
     hardsuit stretched luxuriantly for a moment. SkyKnight's glowing
     red eyeslot flashed, a bright red energy aura still humming
     gleefully around him as he looked at the flabbergasted Kuno.
          "What was that you were saying about wanting a fight?"
     SkyKnight chuckled malevolently.
                         *****
          "Well, I don't know where the heck he could have gone,"
     Twister sighed in frustration, glancing around the empty bedroom.
     Beside and behind him, Ranma and the three Tendo sisters
     crowded the hallway, looking anxiously into the deserted room.
     The place was a little disorderly looking, like someone had left in
     a hurry.
          "Well, the few things he did have are still here," Kasumi
     noted quietly. "Maybe he'll be coming back."
          "I dunno about that," Ranma said dubiously. "You didn't
     see the look on his face when he left. He was--upset."
          Twister didn't mention the obvious: for Bert to have had his
     hardsuit, the only really tangible link to his home universe that
     he'd had, destroyed by supposedly harmless magical testing was
     bound to have been upsetting. Although `upsetting' was perhaps
     too mild a term for his probable emotional state.
          "What I don't get," Nabiki spoke up, "is just how he
     suddenly walked out of here. You saw him yesterday morning: he
     barely had the strength to crawl, let alone walk. It's impossible that
     he could have recovered that quickly--isn't it?" Twister started at
     her comment, as a sudden idea struck him.
          "Wait a minute," the brown-haired young man said slowly.
     "His suit was destroyed, but we never did determine what effect
     the magic had on him, or even if it was still there. Maybe it cured
     him, and he just needed some time to recover a bit..."
          "Is that possible?" Akane asked, wide-eyed. "I thought you
     could only Heal psionically?" Twister shook his head.
          "No. Besides, we're talking about Wild Magic, Akane," he
     reminded her. "So-called `regular' magic can do almost anything,
     and from what Miyabi tells me Wild Magic doesn't seem to
     operate under the same `rules', if you can call them that. No one's
     ever studied that area of magic because of its unpredictability; it's
     a very dangerous area of study." He hesitated a moment. "And we
     have seen him do it before in that bout with the Black Rose. The
     possibility that's what happened seems more and more likely. "
          He was about to search the room further, to see if perhaps
     Bert had left behind some clue as to where he might have gone,
     when a woman's voice called urgently from the downstairs portion
     of the Tendo home.
          "TWISTER!!!!" Professor Miyabi's voice shouted, sounding
     panicked. "Get down here! Hurry!!" The urgency in her voice was
     such that he didn't even walk, but teleported instantly to the dining
     room. The black-haired professor whirled as he materialized, and
     he could see something he'd never seen in her green eyes before:
     fear. She was wild-eyed, and her clothing and hair was in complete
     disarray.
          "What's up, professor?" he inquired, noting her expression.
     She lunged forwards, grabbing his shirt front, and he blinked in
     surprise.
          "You've got to stop him!" Miyabi blurted. "Hurry, before he
     levels the entire university!!"
          "Before who levels the university?" he asked, a queasy
     suspicion forming.
          "SkyKnight!!!!" she half-shrieked, hands clenching
     unconsciously. She abruptly seemed to remember who she was,
     since she released Twister's sweater, and, attempting to control her
     breathing, tried to present a calm facade again. However, her
     hands were visibly shaking as she smoothed out her hair and
     clothing. Twister was trying to reclaim his stomach from the abyss
     it had dropped into at her words, and it took him a moment to get
     together enough wits to speak again.
          "Bert?!" he asked incredulously. "That's impossible! The
     only way he could do something like that was if he had his suit,
     and it got destroyed, remember?" On the tail end of his sentence,
     the rest of the Tendo clan and Ranma ran into the room, everyone
     shouting variations of "What's going on?!"
          "He's got it back somehow!" the professor informed him,
     ignoring the questions and pacing in her agitation. "I don't quite
     know all the details, but that idiot Kuno appears to have been the
     triggering cause. Whatever happened, he's in his suit, and he's
     blasting whatever happens to annoy him right now, and that's
     turning out to be anything that moves." Silence fell for a moment.
          "Couldn't you stop him?" Akane asked finally. "He's not all
     that powerful, is he? I mean, it's just his suit, right? Couldn't you
     freeze it like Twister did once?"
          "He may not have been that strong before," Miyabi replied
     darkly, "but he is now. My spells went awry when I tried to subdue
     him from afar. It's not quite Wild Magic anymore, but something
     else--and because of that, with his current frame of mind, I couldn't
     break through the magical aura that's surrounding him."
          "Aura?!" Twister repeated in surprise. Miyabi nodded
     impatiently.
          "Yes, I said aura!" she snapped. "We don't have time to
     chatter about it!! Come with me now, before it's too late! You can
     analyse him at the scene!" Her hands lifted, preparatory to casting
     a teleportation spell.
          "We're coming too," Ranma spoke up before Miyabi could
     cast it. "Maybe we can help." The dark-haired magic teacher
     looked thoughtfully at the young Saotome for a moment, then
     shook her head.
          "I know you are a formidable warrior, but unless you can
     defend against lasers and who knows what else " she trailed off
     ominously, making Ranma gulp nervously; he remembered Bert
     firing his weapons once for the curious martial artist to
     demonstrate their effectiveness. Bare flesh would not be good
     protection against them.
          Twister shook his head. "This is my responsibility,
     everyone, and I don't want anyone else near a crazed hardsuit if I
     can help it!" Nabiki gave him a reassuring wink and a thumbs up,
     warming him inside. Turning to Miyabi, he said, "Let's go."
     Nodding, his teacher disappeared in a blaze of white light.
          In the next instant, he vanished too.
                         *****
          "Come on, Mr. High-and-Mighty!!" SkyKnight snarled, a
     metal-clad fist again smashing a stumbling and bleeding Kuno
     backwards with a contemptuous backhand slap. "Let's see you run
     me through!! Come ON, you bastard!!! TRY IT!!!"
          The battered kendo champion gathered his reserves, hair in
     wild disarray, and tried again to leap forwards. His wooden sword
     blurred through the air--and was caught neatly by SkyKnight, the
     wooden blade meeting the metal gauntlet with a loud thwack.
          "Not so hot when the odds are even, are you?" the
     modulated voice gloated. SkyKnight's grip clenched, and the
     practice sword shattered into flying splinters. Kuno staggered
     backwards, his only thought now to escape this demon.
          The remorseless, silver-clad gladiator stalked after him,
     grim intent in every line of his posture. A punishing crimson glow
     limned his armoured form, but he remained oblivious to it as
     defiant, uncontrollable rage continued to roar deafeningly in his
     ears. The noise numbed everything else in his mind except for the
     need to strike back, to somehow retaliate against what had been
     done to him.
          "Sorcery..." Kuno gasped again, as the silver-blue hardsuit
     stepped up to him, and grasped him by the front of his clothes. A
     derisive snort escaped the silver helmet.
          "Try science, fleabrain," SkyKnight retorted despite the
     mystic force he was using to enhance his suit's power, grip
     tightening. "Have a nice flight."
          "Flight?! Wha...AAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!" Kuno's
     scream faded into the distance as the silver battlesuit easily hurled
     him off into the horizon, like a helpless rag doll.
          "Don't bother to write!!" Bert called mockingly after the
     departing figure, then he began to laugh. He held up an armoured
     arm in front of his eyes, clenching his gauntlet into a fist, laughing
     exultantly as he felt his suit hum and throb with power. It felt
     fantastic! He felt refreshed, energized and revitalized somehow.
     The SkyKnight hardsuit was performing better than it ever had,
     and wasn't straining at all from some of the energy demands he'd
     made of it. Gone were the ephemeral worries about what was
     happening to him, washed away in the bright glow of the energy
     enveloping him.
          YES!!! POWER!!! something animalistic shrieked in the
     back of his mind. No more did he have to worry about being
     singled out as the punching bag for somebody's crazy plans of
     conquest, or being number one on someone's hit list. If they
     bothered him now, he had the means to--
          "BERT!!! For God's sake get a grip on yourself!!!" a
     horrified voice intruded on his thoughts. SkyKnight whirled
     swiftly.
          "YOU!!!!!!!!!!"
                         *****
          Twister stared disbelievingly at the smoking wreckage
     scattered around what used to be the small park that had been in
     front of the university coffee shop. The trees were now smoking
     stumps, and the park benches were twisted, blasted lumps of metal
     and charred concrete; results of SkyKnight's uneven 'battle' with
     Kuno. The nearby buildings hadn't fared much better, sporting
     huge holes in their brickwork. Twister was also willing to bet that
     there wasn't an intact window within a mile of him right now; the
     sound and shockwaves that had been rolling through the air had
     been loud and devastating.
          Further compounding his shock was the sight of a familiar,
     blue-and-silver hardsuit standing triumphantly in the middle of the
     disaster area, laughing evilly. What was unfamiliar about
     SkyKnight at the moment was the blazing red aura of light that
     was pulsing brightly around him. Electric humming throbbed in
     time with the fluctuations of the coruscating energy sheathing the
     hardsuited figure, and the physical ionizing effects of the raw,
     unrestrained magic in the air made the young psionist's hair start to
     stand on end.
          It was SkyKnight's behaviour that was the real worry right
     now; never had Twister seen Bert display the casual disregard for
     someone else's welfare that he just had in sending Kuno into orbit.
     Luckily, he'd been able to catch the hurtling Kendo champ with his
     TK before he'd actually hit escape velocity, and had guided him
     towards terra firma, well out of sight of the rampaging Knight
     Saber. Sure, he could understand why Bert didn't like Kuno, but he
     didn't know why his red-headed friend had tried to kill him; it was
     a side of him he'd never seen before.
          And uncomfortably similar to one of his own.
          "Now you know what I was talking about," Miyabi spoke
     up quietly, directing her comment mostly towards Twister.
     "Whatever happened the other night, it's affected him more deeply
     than we realized. We have to get him back under control; if this
     goes on for much longer, it will create problems that no amount of
     magic or explanations will ever solve."
          Even for THIS town. "All right," Twister sighed, squaring
     his shoulders. "This is my job--stay back. This is going to be ugly."
          "Be careful," she admonished him. He nodded wordlessly.
     While normally neither would have worried, given his own power
     level, what they were seeing went beyond what they'd thought
     SkyKnight capable of. He didn't want to hurt the displaced Knight
     Saber, but right now, he didn't see how it could be avoided.
     Slowly, the reluctant psionist approached towards the armour-clad
     figure that was laughing maniacally in the center of the ruined
     park.
          As he walked towards the silver-garbed hardsuit, Twister
     began boosting himself with his TK; he wanted all the speed and
     strength he could get right now, since getting tagged with a
     particle beam would definitely not be fun, not even for him. He
     raised a psi-shield as a precaution. The fact that he wasn't glowing
     blue would've pleased him before. Not now, though. Taking a deep
     breath, he got ready.
          "Bert!! For God's sake, get a hold of yourself!" he called.
     With surprising speed, the silver armour suit spun towards his
     voice. Twister noted uneasily that the glow from SkyKnight's
     helmet eyeslot matched exactly the pulsing magical aura around
     him, which might imply that the suit was no longer merely just
     mundane technology, but enchanted. Not good.
          "YOU!!!" SkyKnight's electronic voice snarled, suddenly
     sounding white-hot for some reason. "This is YOUR fault!!! You
     and your goddamn magic!!!" The silver suit blurred forwards in a
     motion that Twister didn't need prescience to see coming. He
     ducked the blistering, roundhouse right that Bert launched at him,
     then flattened him with his own powered-up punch.
          The silver battlesuit skidded backwards along the asphalt,
     sparks flying from his suit. He hit a nearby wall and crashed
     through it. The building decided that it had suffered enough
     renovation, and collapsed inwards with a roar. Dust and bricks
     flew through the air, as the walls came cascading down in a
     crashing, rumbling shower of shattered masonry.
          Silence fell for a moment, as Twister cautiously
     approached the crumbled building, gingerly feeling his knuckles.
     Belting SkyKnight's suit had hurt, a lot; it had been evidently
     enhanced by the magic field surrounding it and while magic
     couldn't affect him directly, it could certainly reinforce things
     enough to make things tough. There was still no movement from
     the rock pile, and he began to wonder if perhaps he'd won after all.
          Not.
          "AAAAAARRRGHH!!! I'm going to -KILL- you!!"
     SkyKnight's muffled voice bellowed, as the entire rock pile turned
     cherry-red, and exploded outwards, showering hot chunks of stone
     everywhere. Twister backpedalled frantically, but wasn't able to
     dodge the charging silver form that blasted from the smoldering
     building wreckage; he was body checked into a flying fall, and he
     rolled smoothly to his feet twenty feet from his previous position,
     dropping again into a defensive stance. SkyKnight advanced on the
     young, brown-haired man menacingly.
          "Bert, snap out of it!!" Twister pleaded. "Come on, you're
     not solving anything this way! I--"
          "This is all your fault," the silver suit snarled venomously,
     ignoring his entreating tone. "First you drag me from home against
     my will, altering me magically at the same time, and then get one
     of your cronies to finish the job! I'm going to take it out of your
     hide, one piece at a time." Twister's prescience screamed at him
     urgently, and he dropped flat as SkyKnight's arms snapped up to
     point at him. Four crackling particle laser beams lashed out,
     singeing the dodging young man.
          "All right!" Twister shouted, leaping to his feet again.
     "That's ENOUGH!! Stop it right now or I'll.....ARRRRGHH!!!" He
     convulsed as another withering barrage of laser energy hammered
     into him, clawing at his psionic shield. Some of the ravening
     energy leaked through his shield, burning him. He gritted his teeth
     and squinted against the pain for a moment; seconds later, a blue
     flash bathed him, and he sighed in relief as he Healed himself.
          The moment it had taken him to Heal himself had cost him,
     though. There was a jarring impact, and he felt himself get
     knocked through the air again. Spinning in midair, he landed on
     his feet, and tried to get his bearings.
          Another battering storm of punches lashed out at him, and
     his sight cleared enough to see that SkyKnight was looming right
     in front of him, trying to pound through his force barrier through
     sheer power alone. Good luck trying, he grimly thought. Setting his
     teeth together, Twister reached out with his mind, trying to shut
     down Bert's suit so he could at least reason with him, while
     keeping his shield up at the same time.
          The shock came when he found that, according to his
     psi-senses, SkyKnight's hardsuit wasn't there.
          Now how the hell can that be?! he wondered in surprise. I
     can see the bloody thing right in front of me! How come I can't
     detect it?! All he could sense was one young man in the grip of a
     blind, unreasoning fury. Oh no. Please don't let it be... he suddenly
     prayed, hoping he was wrong, but knowing his suspicion was all
     too likely true.
          SkyKnight and his hardsuit had fused magically somehow,
     there was no real boundary between the two anymore. It was the
     only logical explanation. Before, Bert and his suit had been
     magically linked only, with Bert able to exercise very limited
     control in summoning it to him when necessary. Now, it seemed as
     if the process had gone on to completion, the hardsuit becoming
     almost a part of Bert, thus as immune as the red-head, and
     currently fuelled by the berserk SkyKnight's will.
          "So now how the hell do I stop him without killing him?!"
     he muttered to himself. He tried using a TK barrier to hold the
     raging hardsuit in check, but encountered the same problem he'd
     had when he'd tried Healing Bert; his TK couldn't seem to `lock on'
     to him. He could sense his enraged friend perfectly (although he
     really didn't need psionics right now for THAT since his friend
     was right in front of him), but he couldn't get his TK to directly
     affect the man in the silver armour. Well, actually there WAS one
     power that had worked before...
          There was a bright flash coupled with a loud bang, and
     SkyKnight disappeared abruptly. Across the park, a whooshing
     explosion surged through the air as water fountained out of a
     small, decorative pond. A moment later, a dripping, silver hardsuit
     rose from the water, but he didn't appear to have been cooled off
     any by the sudden bath. Twister nodded to himself; he could still
     teleport Bert, but that appeared to be it.
          "Resorting to cheap tricks, are we?" SkyKnight snarled.
     "Suits me just fine." Another crimson laser beam lanced through
     the air. Twister easily dodged sideways--and got clobbered by the
     falling lamppost that SkyKnight had just shot off.
          "NOT good," Twister groaned, shaking his head to clear it
     of the ringing bells the impact had jarred into existence. He shoved
     the lamppost aside, and ducked the murderous sword swipe that
     whistled through the air, almost giving him a very short brush cut.
     Lightsaber, Twister assessed as he dodged a thrust, looks like the
     kid gloves had come off. He hit SkyKnight in the helmet with
     everything he could throw into a rapid punch, and tried frantically
     to think of a way to down SkyKnight for good, preferably
     non-lethally. Just battering at him wasn't going to work; his
     hardsuit made him incredibly resistant to any physical force that he
     had access to right now.
          SkyKnight rolled upright again, a little slower than the last
     time. Twister didn't believe for a minute that he was hurt; it
     couldn't be that easy.
                         *****
          "Oh, this is rich!!" Malkon grinned to himself.  "This is
     turning out better than I'd have believed possible!"
          The scarlet-skinned arch-demon sat back in his chair,
     chuckling quietly as he watched Twister duck under another attack
     from SkyKnight. Malkon smiled fiendishly at the image hovering
     in midair before him, savouring the chaos that passed before his
     eyes.
          Originally, he'd been utterly furious about his failure to
     siphon off the stray magic that had attached itself to SkyKnight.
     Imagine, a pathetic mortal actually being able to thwart him! If it
     had been Twister, at least he'd have been able to say it was a being
     of comparable power that had foiled him, but that hadn't been the
     case. He'd been stymied in his quest for power by a mere human
     who didn't even belong to the dimension he'd found himself in.
          Disgusting.
          Hours ago, the arch-demon begun a probe on the red-haired
     Knight Saber trying to find the cause of his previous failure. There
     were things that happened then that Malkon had not been able to
     grasp, frustrating him enough to dare another probe. Instead, he
     found a situation that promised to be vastly amusing.
          It had become apparent to Malkon almost immediately that
     SkyKnight and the Wild Magic were now inseparably fused.
     Because he was more experienced with magic-related phenomena,
     he'd realized that much almost immediately after a deeper scan.
     Based on his previous knowledge of SkyKnight's emotional
     makeup, he'd also realized that it was only a matter of time before
     the burden of suddenly having such power would snap his tentative
     grip on his sanity. When that happened, the potential for an
     out-of-control rampage became a certainty which meant that
     Twister would be forced to fight his friend, and there was a very
     good chance that SkyKnight wouldn't survive the encounter.
          A few minor nudges of magic-induced aggression had
     ensured the mortal's current insane rage.
          Malkon laughed again; if Twister won by killing
     SkyKnight, then the young psionist would be miserable, plagued
     with intense guilt. If he didn't kill SkyKnight, but still won anyway,
     then BOTH of them would be wallowing in assorted varieties of
     guilt for a while. If SkyKnight won, somehow, then he'd be
     despised by almost everyone, especially the few friends he'd
     managed to make, and he'd still be sunk in guilt if he ever
     regained his sanity. That would probably destroy what was left of
     the silver Knight Saber's will to keep going.
          Whatever the results were, it promised to be a very
     amusing afternoon. The arch-demon grinned to himself and sat
     back to continue watching the diverting show.
                         *****
          He'd been right: easy it had not been.
          The two combatants were apart at the moment, catching
     their breath. It was a strange change for Twister; usually he held
     back a lot in a fight but this time was different. Granted, he wasn't
     on the offensive a lot for fear of killing Bert, but in defence he had
     to keep on his toes. The surrounding area was even more torn up,
     fortunately the few spectators and Miyabi had retreated further
     away for safety. Still, nothing had changed; Bert was madder than
     ever and Twister was at a loss. That damned SkyKnight hardsuit
     was--
          Waitaminutehere.
          SKY-Knight. Twister almost smacked himself.
          It wasn't a total solution, but at least it would get them
     away from people until he got an idea. He sighed mentally; the
     only thing wrong with his `plan' was that he wasn't fond of heights.
          Oh, well.
          "Well, SkyKnight," he finally said, addressing the angrily
     glowing figure in front of him, "you fight well. Now, shall we see
     how a sky knight deals with a twister in the wild blue yonder?" He
     started rising into the air and heard a growl from the silver
     hardsuit.
          "Fine by me, you ASSHOLE!!" SkyKnight shouted, and
     wings snapped out from the back of the hardsuit as jet turbines
     started roaring. Twister took that as his cue and rapidly accelerated
     skyward. Bert shouted his rage as his jets echoed him, rocketing
     him up to pursue his foe as they climbed into the stratosphere.
          It was an odd battle they fought in the sky; Twister was
     more manoeuvrable with his levitation but he lacked the air
     combat experience SkyKnight had, and the misplaced Knight
     Saber used that advantage relentlessly. However, having an
     opponent who could stop on a dime, do ninety degree turns, and
     other aerodynamically impossible things made targeting frustrating
     to the silver-clad warrior. He kept on relentlessly though, and
     managed to tag Twister's shields a few times. The psionist knew he
     couldn't keep this up forever, but he still didn't know what to do.
          Perhaps boosting my mind would help, he thought as he
     dodged another volley of particle-laser fire and proceeded to
     increase his intellectual capacities. Despite his control, his eyes
     began to glow blue. A result of his expanded mental acuity was
     that his dodging began improving significantly as his enhanced
     mind tried to come up with a solution. Correlating the facts on his
     problem was simple, and one conclusion quickly came to the fore.
          Fact: Darlene form had lost rational control when infused
     with Wild Magic; it would take centuries, if not millennia to gain
     the required experience and control to be able to handle the power,
     even with her instinctive talent with magic.
          Fact: Bert now had the same problem, despite the fact that
     he had a much lesser amount of Wild Magic in his system, and had
     finally gone amuck like Darlene.
          Fact: Without Darlene's abilities, Bert would not likely
     return to his senses on his own, which presented a conundrum.
          Fact: Twister/Darlene had opposite powers of mind and
     magic. A balance between the two, for which reasons were still
     unknown, was apparently essential to remain stable.
          Fact: Opposites implied that Twister could access higher
     Mind abilities, but likely in a different manner. However, those
     energies would likely be a stronger version of Mindfire, and results
     of that accessing were unknown.
          Fact: Bert needed a counter, a balance to the wild power
     raging inside him. It was an imbalance that needed to be corrected
     by an opposing force..
          Conclusion: Inject Mindfire into Bert's system.
          Results: Either Bert would be cured and rid of his powers,
     or else the two forces would combine. Either case gave increased
     odds of sanity returning or death. 
          Implement.
          Whether the process would destroy Bert or not was
     uncertain, it was an unknown whether Mindfire would even work,
     but it was the best option. Like Wild Magic, Mindfire had strange
     properties of its own. There was some mild hesitation at first, but
     as Twister summoned the azure fire, it vanished. The process
     needed to be done, and it was the best, if only, course to take for
     long-term success.
          If SkyKnight knew that his fate was being dispassionately
     decided, he wouldn't have cared. All he knew was the burning rage
     towards his enemy as he tried to vaporize his foe with his
     particle-lasers. But even in his current state he became wary when
     he saw the change in the psionist's expression. His eyes were
     burning an intense blue, but the face was an expressionless mask,
     something SkyKnight had not seen on Twister's face before.
          Even in his rage he knew something was very wrong when
     Twister made a sudden course correction, aiming straight for
     SkyKnight as his outstretched hands began to burn with intensely
     blue flame. Let him come and try, he snarled to himself; all the
     better to rip his head off. He fired at the accelerating form, and
     every shot was avoided with milliseconds to spare each time. Too
     late to dodge, Twister collided with him with all the force of a
     locomotive, palms first. Despite his armour, there was a whoosh of
     breath being forced out of SkyKnight's lungs at the impact, limbs
     flying forwards around Twister.
          "Implementing Mindfire infusion," the psionist said in a
     passionless tone, his hands flaring blue where they pressed against
     the silver hardsuit. Azure fire blossomed brightly on the gleaming
     silver chest armour.
          "What?!?!" SkyKnight snarled, winded but getting ready to
     crush his adversary's skull. Then, where his world had seemed red,
     it abruptly turned bright blue. Something that felt like liquid
     nitrogen poured in through his chest. I thought he couldn't affect
     me with his psionics?! Bert thought in confusion, not realizing that
     the rage that had been powering him had cooled during his
     observations of what was happening to him.
          The cold energy flow went straight into the core of his
     being, altering its course to circle around what had come before,
     an intense purple and red energy field permeating Bert's soul and
     spirit. The blue force circled closer and closer to Bert's soul with
     exponential speed, attracted to the flickering corona of energy and
     driven by it's master's will, until--
          Contact!
          Bert screamed from the clash within himself; it felt like he
     was being torn apart from the inside! Coherent thought vanished in
     the maelstrom of seething energy that was now boiling within him.
          "THIS IS UNEXPECTED," he heard a grave voice from
     within, almost musing to itself as he cried out in agony, "BUT
     PLEASING. WHAT WAS INTENDED IS COMPLETE AT
     LAST." The voice paused, and now Bert felt he was being directly
     addressed. "NO LONGER WILL YOU HEAR FROM ME."
          Oh yeah?! Well good riddance, you bastard!! was Bert's
     spiteful farewell as the agony ebbed, the energies now seething
     within him reaching their equilibrium. It felt like he had run a
     marathon.
          Then he noticed two things.
          Twister was apparently unconscious, the effort of bringing
     Bert back from the edge having exhausted him. He was limply
     flopped in SkyKnight's arms, having been trapped there by
     SkyKnight's involuntary, Mindfire-induced convulsions.
          The second item of more than passing interest was that
     they had been falling for some time and the ground was coming
     uncomfortably close for a panicky Bert's liking. His jets had cut off
     for some reason, but they started up again with no problem--just in
     time to prevent the hardsuit and the psionist from becoming messy
     splotches on the ground.
          As he gained altitude, the memory of what he had done
     came and hit him over the head like a ten ton boulder; flashes of
     explosions, and the dim memory of going after the young man he
     was now carrying with a homicidal bloodlust churned through his
     mind. Good God, had he really done all that?! He'd tried to kill
     Twister for crying out loud! And it was damned fortunate that his
     friend had been able to defend himself; given the chance, he'd
     probably have killed without a second thought.
          Hey....
          Bert frowned inside his helmet; normally he would be
     filled with remorse, damning himself for losing control like this.
     And he was only feeling a little depressed?!? What the hell? He
     looked at the unconscious psionist in his arms and wondered what
     the heck his friend had done to get him rational again. Actually, he
     thought with a brief flash of amusement, if it makes me less likely
     to become moody I'm all for it.
          He sighed, turning sombre again. Somehow he doubted it
     would last. For now, the important thing was to get somewhere
     safe.
          High above the city, a flickering silver flash banked
     through the air and disappeared into the clouds, vanishing from the
     sight of the watchers on the ground.
                         *****
          Professor Miyabi wearily mopped the sweat from her
     forehead as she watched one of the ruined buildings slowly
     re-build itself. She was almost out on her feet, but she had to repair
     the damage caused by the super-powered combat that had taken
     place; if it wasn't fixed before the inevitable arrival of the fire and
     police departments, there would be far too much publicity, and
     questions that could probably never be answered.
          "That's good enough, Natsumi," she noted hoarsely. "We
     don't want to make the buildings better than they were." Her
     student nodded, unusually quiet and subdued. Miyabi was grateful
     beyond words that the younger enchantress had shown up,
     attracted by the magical turmoil that had been seething up until a
     short time ago. Without her help, Miyabi doubted that she'd have
     been able to fix everything in time by herself.
          "I think that's all we've got time for, Professor," the
     raven-haired young woman volunteered timidly; she'd been
     extremely quiet and troubled-looking, especially since she'd been
     told the reasons for the destruction. Her feelings toward Bert had
     not made it easy. "There's a few windows still missing here and
     there, but we're not going to be able to get them all before the
     authorities get here." The sirens drawing closer emphasized her
     words. Miyabi nodded, brushing her snarled hair out of her eyes,
     looking around. The small plaza was completely restored; except
     for some missing panes of glass, it looked untouched by the day's
     events.
          "Let's get out of here then," she directed, forcing herself to
     stand straight. "We'll go back to my house. I need a short rest
     before I can do too much more. And it will be the best place to
     start looking for Twister and SkyKnight."
                         *****
          Bert slowly pulled off his helmet, dropping it to the floor as
     he crashed to his knees. Across the spacious living room, Twister
     dozed quietly on the couch where Bert had dropped him. The
     psionist still was out cold, a state Bert was beginning to feel he
     might soon be entering into himself.
          It had hit suddenly, and without warning, a wave of
     unbelievable weakness, accompanied by an almost giddy feeling
     of light-headedness. It had nearly knocked him out of the air a few
     short minutes after Twister had blasted his sensibilities back into
     where they belonged, but he'd held on long enough to get them to a
     place of relative safety: the professor's house. There had been the
     faint worry that she'd have some kind of protective spells in place,
     but he hadn't sensed any unusual disturbances in the area of her
     house, so he'd gambled that it was okay to enter.
          He wasn't entirely happy with the destination he'd been
     forced to land at; Miyabi would not be happy with what he'd done,
     and he was horribly ashamed of what had happened. Right now, he
     didn't want to see anybody, but he was in no shape to avoid a
     confrontation. Eventually, he was going to have to face the music.
          Sweating with the effort, SkyKnight stood up and
     deactivated his hardsuit, stepping out of the armour with relief. He
     grabbed the back of a chair to keep his knees from buckling a
     moment later. Food, that was what he needed right now. He'd been
     overextended before, and his crazed rampage had only depleted
     himself further; if he didn't get something to eat, and soon, there
     was a very good possibility that he'd collapse and expire. There
     was only so far that his power could carry him on his own reserves.
          As he staggered towards the kitchen, it suddenly occurred
     to him to wonder how he'd suddenly known that he COULD sense
     disturbances that indicated spells. He'd certainly never possessed
     that kind of knowledge before.
          Such trivia vanished from his mind the instant he passed
     the kitchen door. The first thing that met his gaze was a loaf of
     bread on the counter. He just barely managed to find a jar of
     peanut butter before wolfing down a few sandwiches in rapid
     succession. His stomach roared defiantly a few moments later, but
     at least he had enough energy to stand now. Ransacking the rest of
     the cupboards, he found several cans of condensed soup, and
     began whipping up a huge potful, although one can disappeared
     into his innards before it could get to the pot.
          As he impatiently waited for the soup to heat, valiantly
     resisting the urge to gnaw on the countertops in the interim, it
     slowly dawned on him that he felt a lot different than he had
     earlier in the week. It wasn't all that much different from when
     he'd first arrived here, but there was a subtle change, like...
          Memory slammed home hard again, as flashes of his
     journey to reach Twister's dimension bubbled up, momentarily
     freezing him with remembered pain. Within minutes, some of the
     gaping holes that had been in his knowledge were filled, but a
     great many questions were left unanswered. However, he knew
     now just what had been done to him.
          And he also knew that it was irrevocably permanent.
          Hunger overrode his depressed  ruminations, and he
     quickly began swallowing soup as fast as he could spoon it up. He
     broke off momentarily to find a box of soda crackers to
     supplement his meal, then resumed eating, his expression brooding
     and sombre. He was so absorbed in stuffing himself that he never
     heard the front door open and close.
                         *****
          Ranma had changed his mind after Twister and the
     professor vanished; after all, death beams or no, he was a martial
     artist and he felt he needed to do something to help. 
          Fortunately, Nabiki had prevailed against his stubborn
     argument to go and help his friend. She was privately concerned
     herself, but knew when there was no point to complicate matters
     further. However, Akane knew where Miyabi lived and insisted on
     going there on the basis that the Professor would most likely return
     there if anywhere. Ranma had immediately agreed, Nabiki a little
     slower. 
          Hurrying where they could, they had arrived just as a tired
     Miyabi and Natsumi appeared in her fenced yard. "What are you
     three doing here?" the Professor demanded irately.
          "We decided to help! What happened?" Akane demanded
     right back, not seeing Bert or Twister with them.
          "I don't know," the raven-haired sorceress sighed as she
     quickly opened the door to her home. "They fought in the sky after
     a long battle, then there was a bright blue flash. I plan to find them
     right now so you may as well come in." The others hurried in
     behind her, but stopped short when Miyabi gasped. Third in line,
     Nabiki peeked around Ranma and gasped at the body which lay on
     the Professor's couch. 
          "Twister!!" Nabiki shot past a startled Professor Miyabi
     before she could say anything, throwing herself onto the couch
     next to the comatose brown-haired young man. He didn't respond
     to her shoves, and the middle Tendo daughter looked worriedly at
     the Professor. "Is he all right?! Is he--?"
          "He's fine," Miyabi assured her after stepping over to him
     and peeling back an eyelid to see if anyone was home. "However,
     he appears to be completely tired out at the moment." As if in
     verification of her statement, faint snores began to come from the
     unconscious psionist. Nabiki rapidly changed expressions from
     worry to amused exasperation, but didn't leave her seat by him.
          "Um, Professor?" Akane spoke up tentatively, pointing to
     the far side of the living room. Everyone's eyes swung to follow
     her gesture, and saw an empty silver-blue hardsuit standing by a
     chair. SkyKnight's antenna-winged helmet lay upended on the
     floor.
          "Be careful," Miyabi warned crisply, shooting a hawklike
     glance around the room. "If he's out of his suit, he might have
     regained his senses again, but don't take any chances."
          "Where's Ranma?" Akane asked suddenly, noticing her
     fiancee was no longer in the room, her attention had all been on
     Twister and her elder sister.
          "I think he went that way," Nabiki pointed to a short
     corridor leading from the room to another section of the house.
     "Maybe looking for Bert."
          Before anyone could say anything, there was a sudden yell
     of surprise. Some rapid-fire thwacks sounded from the room down
     the hall; a moment later, Ranma pelted hard from the room,
     hurdling the chair in front of the doorway before skidding to a halt
     near the startled Miyabi.
          "He's in the kitchen!!" Ranma blurted, looking panicked.
     "Quick! Get him before he wakes up!!"
          "What do you mean, `before he wakes up'?" Akane asked,
     looking puzzled. "If he's in the kitchen, isn't he awake?"
          "Well, I, uh, sort of overreacted," Ranma confessed.
          "Sort of? How can one `sort of' overreact?" Miyabi asked,
     raising an eyebrow.
          "He, uh, startled me," Ranma muttered sheepishly. "I was
     nervous enough that I hit first and then ran."
          "You knocked him out?!" Akane said disbelievingly.
          "He tried," a voice corrected dryly. Everyone's gaze swung
     to the tall red-head standing in the doorway to the kitchen corridor.
     A purple, soon to be black, eye, and a lump on his jaw indicated
     that the younger Saotome had indeed tried to knock Bert out.
          A split-second later, a shimmering, translucent energy field
     appeared, holding the displaced Knight Saber immobile.
          "Whoa! Hold it!! Peace! Don't shoot!! I'm friendly!" Bert
     managed to squawk despite his frozen limbs.
          "Forgive me if I decide that for myself," Miyabi countered
     warily.
          "And how are you going to do that?" There was a growl
     from Bert's stomach, and he added, "Whatever you do, can you
     hurry? I'm on the edge of starvation here."
          "What did you do to Twister?!" Nabiki demanded, pinning
     him with a hot glare.
          "Nothing, I swear! He did something to me that cleared my
     head and from what I can tell it knocked him out when he
     finished." Intestinal noises came from Bert again. "He'll probably
     be as hungry as I am when he wakes up."
          "He looks okay, Professor; I think it's okay to let him go,"
     Akane offered, dividing an anxious glance between her magic
     Professor and the immobile red-head. The raven-haired mage eyed
     Bert for a moment, then sighed and waved a hand. The field
     vanished and the red-haired man wavered a bit as he got his
     balance back.
          "Thanks," he muttered as he gingerly probed his sore face.
     "Just a second, I think I know how to wake sleeping beauty up," he
     added, and disappeared into the kitchen. The rest of the group
     waited, listening to the his activities; a few minutes later he
     emerged with a pot, two bowls, and two spoons. Filling one bowl
     with soup he positioned it close to Twister's face and waved a hand
     to waft the smell of the soup towards the nose.
          The brown-haired young man's nose inhaled the smell of
     fresh soup. A few seconds later, Twister's eyes blinked slowly
     opened and he groaned as he slowly sat up on the couch. A smug
     Bert was firmly pushed out of the way as Nabiki wrapped her arms
     around the startled Twister and kissed him.
          Bert took a big swig of the soup as stood up and backed
     away from the couple. "Gets 'em every time," he commented,
     grinning and much happier now that there was something filling
     his stomach.
          Miyabi, observing his reactions, slowly relaxed; the
     red-headed Knight Saber appeared quite stable now. "Perhaps now
     we could get some answers about what happened?" she suggested.
          Detaching himself from a smiling Nabiki, Twister replied,
     "I used my Mindfire on Bert, hoping it would counter the effects of
     the Wild Magic that he got blasted with and shock him out of that
     rage he was in. It took more energy than I thought," he looked at
     the calm Bert, "but it appears to have worked. How are you, Bert?"
          "More relaxed than I ought to be, after trying to kill you,"
     Bert started bitterly, but sighed and ran a hand through his unruly
     hair. "But I can't seem to get worked up over that right now."
          Twister nodded. "Probably the effect of the Mindfire."
          "I suppose, but it didn't cancel out the energy in me; it--"
     He paused, and a distracted look came over him, as if he was
     looking at something beyond their immediate sight, only he was
     looking within. "It's--merged somehow with the stuff that dragged
     me here in the first place." Bert's face darkened. "And I also finally
     remembered how THAT occurred." Twister blinked as Nabiki sat
     beside him.
          "Pardon?"
          "I met some kind of--being in the Void. I wasn't infused
     with that purple magic of yours yet; it had dragged me into the
     Void, but hadn't done much else. However," Bert's hands tightened
     on his soup bowl, "along the way this voice tells me it was going to
     alter me and forced your Wild Magic into me. I didn't have much
     say in the matter, none in fact." he growled. Everyone else in the
     room was considerably surprised at this information. Despite the
     bad news, Twister felt a little better that Bert's magical alterations
     had not been his fault. "I heard that voice again when you did
     whatever you did with that Mindfire, and the bastard sounded
     pleased. THEN he says I'd never hear from him again, the
     sonofabitch!" Bert remembered all the females in the room and
     reddened. "Sorry for the language."
          "I think you've got a right to be mad," Twister said slowly.
     "I wonder who, or what,  it was though."
          "It could be any number of beings," Miyabi said, shaking
     her head. "And probably a very powerful one if it met you in the
     Void."
          Bert snorted. "Frankly, I don't care as long as he's out of my
     life for good." His expression became one of despair as he
     remembered what had happened a mere hour ago. "Geez, I did a
     lot of damage, didn't I?"
          "Fixed," Miyabi said dismissively. "Well, mostly fixed."
          Bert slowly smiled. "All right, I'll admit magic can be
     useful, however nuts it seems to me. But," now he looked worried,
     "what do you call this bloody weird mix of energies I have NOW?"
          "The Force..." something whispered, so softly it was almost
     unheard by Bert.
          "The Force?!?" Bert blurted out, startled. Twister eyed him
     oddly.
          "While I think you've watched Star Wars one too many
     times, we might as well call it that," the psionist admitted before
     surging to his feet, Nabiki echoing his movements. "I don't know
     about you all but I know I'M tired." He turned to Miyabi. "Sorry for
     the trouble, Professor."
          "Hey, that's MY line," Bert complained. He was ignored.
          "Hmm... Oh, well." Miyabi shrugged. "That's a mage's life.
     And Natsumi, you'd best stay here for the moment seeing as you
     must be tired, and no arguments," she said, stopping her student's
     protests that she was exaggerating handily with the authority that
     she could command at will. Bert couldn't quite hide the relieved
     expression that flickered across his face, but Natsumi didn't notice.
     Instead, she sat down disconsolately, a slightly pouting expression
     on her lovely face as she watched the tall, red-headed young man.
          "Ah... We'd best walk back," Twister advised, missing the
     by-play completely. "I'm not too strong right now."
          "I'm not complaining," Bert said, grinning.
          "You wouldn't." The second bowl by the red-head stirred,
     then floated into the psionist's hands, startling everyone. Twister
     looked at them defensively. "Hey, I'm hungry too."     
          When the group left Miyabi's house, a small, green-skinned
     creature with large ears watched them walk away from where it
     was concealed in the shadows.
          And nodded knowingly to itself before vanishing.
                   *****
          Much later, everyone gathered at the Tendo dojo for
     dinner. Wisely, Twister had asked Kasumi to make more than
     usual due to his own, and Bert's, somewhat ravenous state. He'd
     even offered to help, but the eldest Tendo daughter had merely
     smiled and said she'd be fine. As hungry as he was, Bert forced
     himself to slow down and eat at a normal rate, well, normal
     compared to Ranma and his father.
          "Well," Nabiki remarked wryly, glancing sidelong at
     Twister, "looks like everything is back to normal again."
          Bert almost choked on his next mouthful. "Normal??" he
     croaked. "You call what happened today `normal'?!?" He felt
     somewhat detached from his emotions, but he still felt much
     turmoil over what he had done. The middle Tendo daughter's calm
     acceptance startled him though.
          "Nabiki, that's not nice," Twister chided, grinning at the
     red-head's dismay. Her smirk was her only reply as Bert glared
     balefully at the brown-haired girl. "I think she really meant this
     moment right now, Bert. Although," he added thoughtfully, "I'm
     surprised none of the others have shown up yet."
          "Others? What others?" Bert wondered aloud, puzzled why
     Ranma looked panicked all of a sudden.
          ***TOOM!!***
          The sound of an amazon bashing though a wall has its own
     distinctive sound so everyone who heard knew that Shampoo had
     arrived, except Bert, who jumped away from the direction of the
     collapsed wall.
          "What the hell was that?!?" he exclaimed.
          "Nihao!" Shampoo said, smiling at everyone in the room,
     then locked on a resigned Ranma. "Ranma! So happy to see
     husband!" Zooming faster than the eye could follow, the
     purple-haired amazon kneeled beside Ranma and leaned VERY
     close to the now-nervous martial artist. "Want go on date?" she
     asked him coyly.
          "Whatever happened to people around here using doors?"
     Bert muttered, still staring at the wall's wreckage. Nobody
     bothered to answer him.
          "Uh... Shampoo... I'm eating right now. Could we talk
     later?" Ranma stalled.
          Mistake.
          "So will go on date?" Shampoo asked eagerly.
          "I didn't SAY that!" Ranma protested. "I..."
          "RAAAANNNMMMAAA NO BAKA!!" Akane screamed,
     finally fed up with her hentai fiancee's actions. She swung her
     Ranma-basher mallet high in the air. Ranma cringed as it started to
     descend--but never hit the mark. Everyone stared as Akane
     struggled to move her suddenly immobile hammer which was
     seemingly anchored in mid-air.
          "Now there's something you don't see every day," Bert said,
     bemused, feeling his sense of reality rapidly slipping away.
     Twister looked at him sympathetically, knowing that the antics in
     Nerima were more than a little strange, then he realized someone
     was softly--singing? A chill travelled down the psionist's spine.
     The tune stopped and Akane's hammer was free once more,
     unbalancing the mallet wielder for a second.
          "Why are you trying to hurt my cousin's future husband?"
     the voice of a young female with a Chinese accent asked curiously.
          Everyone except Twister and Shampoo looked at the hole
     Shampoo had created for that was where the owner of the voice
     was. It was a very attractive young woman with brown hair as long
     as Shampoo's and one whom the family resemblance was evident.
     Her green eyes were fixed on Akane as she lightly held a long
     wooden staff.
          "Your--cousin? Who are you?" Akane demanded as the
     brown-haired girl stepped out of the hole and towards the table.
          "My name is Lotion."
          Bert's head snapped towards Twister. Uh oh, he thought,
     this could be trouble. The psionist was pale and his gaze was fixed
     directly ahead of himself, not even trying to look at the new
     arrival. Why bother? He already KNEW what she looked like.
          "So you're Shampoo's cousin, huh?" Nabiki said, looking
     curiously at the new arrival, and potential new source of income
     (though she hadn't done many personal 'favours' for a while, it
     was good to keep in practice). "What brings you to Japan?" Bert
     started to speak, trying to avoid incipient disaster, but he was far
     too late for that.
          "MY future husband!" Lotion responded happily, and
     turned to look at--
          BOOOOM!!!
          The sudden crack of thunder surprised everyone. When the
     sound faded, they saw that Twister had vanished.
          Lotion thumped the floor with her staff, frustrated. "I'd
     forgotten that he could do that! I TOLD you this wouldn't work,
     cousin." She sighed, seeing Shampoo's eyes were only for Ranma.
     "I'm going back to the restaurant." She gave the floor another
     thump before turning around and walking out the hole she had
     come in.
          Bert watched as Nabiki's face went though several phases:
     astonishment, suspicion, realization, and finally, fury. He'd seen
     that 'glow' around Akane but to see it around the middle Tendo
     sister was somehow more frightening. Nabiki kept her eyes aimed
     downwards, too angry to look anywhere else. Everyone else in the
     room, except Kasumi, edged nervously away from the furious girl.
          "I'll kill him," she finally grated out.
          This is not good, Bert thought apprehensively.
     
     THAT EVENING...
     
          "So you have an amazon sorceress wanting to marry you
     and Nabiki found out without you telling her?" Yasuro shook his
     head, glad he wasn't in Twister's shoes right now. "It's hard to get
     in more trouble than that, my friend."
          "I can always try. NOT!!" the brown-haired psionist replied
     without turning his head around, determined to keep his attention
     on finishing the crystalline box in front of him and not dwell on
     the current and very unpleasant matter of Nabiki's knowledge of
     Lotion. His feelings were a little mixed at the moment.
          He had teleported instinctively to the apartment but had
     immediately vacated the area, knowing a certain loan shark he
     loved would be acting like Jaws now. The fact that he was hungry
     was also a consideration and he went to various restaurants to
     alleviate that problem, never staying for long in one place. He was
     positive he knew what it felt like to be a hunted fugitive now--he
     certainly had the paranoia of being found down pat.
          "Are you SURE that's a computer?" Yasuro asked, looking
     at the strange device Twister was making.
          "Yes, it is. And--done!" the psionist cried. "Now we just
     have to plug in the peripherals and we'll own the most powerful
     computer around!"
          "You're kidding, right?"
          "No, not really. The system software I've already
     downloaded so it should be running fine. The AI for user interface
     is also ready, I think." Yasuro blinked when he said `AI.' "I--"
          "How about OUR `interfacing,' Twister?" an
     ominous-sounding and tightly controlled female voice asked,
     making Twister sit bolt upright in panic. "And you had better not
     disappear or I'll never talk to you again. Come out into the main
     room, and let's talk."
          He slumped, defeated, and stood up. Turning he saw a
     guilty-looking Yasuro, who began saying "I'm sorry, Twister, but
     she--"
          "I know," Twister interrupted with a sigh, wondering what
     she'd used to threaten his roommate with. "Don't worry about it; I
     know Nabiki." Slowly he walked out of his bedroom and into the
     living room. Bert was standing by the closed door, trying his best
     to look like part of the furniture, and failing miserably. Nabiki sat
     down on the chair that Yasuro used for his computer, legs crossed,
     arms crossed, and generally looking cross, but doing an admirable
     job of restraining herself.
          "Maybe you'd better help Yasuro get the computer running,
     Bert?" the resigned psionist sighed.
          "You built it already? It's operational?!" Bert asked
     incredulously, then looked at the immobile, stone-faced figure of
     Nabiki. "Um--right. I'd--ah--better go check it out." He vacated the
     area and Twister heard the bedroom door close behind him. There
     was a moment of uncomfortable silence.
          "Nabiki--" he began, but she stopped him with a raised
     hand.
          "Just tell me how it happened," she said neutrally, anger
     visibly lurking underneath the surface. Twister let out a deep
     breath and told her the reason why he had gone to the village, the
     reason why he was in female form at the time, the fight and
     Masque's involvement with it, and his revealing his male form to
     the tribe.
          "Why did you do that?" Nabiki demanded.
          "Lotion seemed so sad that she had to give me the Kiss of
     Death, I just got angry with Masque and--er--knocked her out with
     my sword. Lotion's not like Shampoo, she's not as aggressive, nice
     really, and much more friendly from what I saw of her."
          "And are you going to marry her?"
          "NO!! Definitely not!" Twister shouted, slightly panicked.
     Nabiki recoiled in surprise at his reaction, anger disappearing
     momentarily.
          "That's rather emphatic after your description of her."
     Nabiki frowned, honestly puzzled. "Not that I'm defending her
     position, but what don't you like about her?"
          "She--has some--different tastes that make me very
     nervous." Twister hedged. "Nothing really. I-- *glub!*" A bucket
     of water, now emptied onto Darlene, appeared above the surprised
     red-head, along with the young woman who dropped the bucket
     now that its purpose was over. The new appearance tackled her
     victim with a hug that sent them both to the floor in front of the
     blinking and confused Nabiki.
          Lotion smiled down at the dripping wet, and very shocked,
     Darlene as the amazon lay full-length atop her prey. "That's not
     much of a problem, husband, if that is the only thing bothering
     you," she purred. Then, without caring about how wet the
     red-headed mage was, she hugged the frightened young woman
     tighter and locked their lips together with a passionate kiss.
          Nabiki didn't miss her `boyfriend's' reaction to it. The
     colour drained from Darlene's face and her eyes opened wide in
     panic before rolling up into her head, the rest of her body going
     limp as she fainted. It didn't take a deductive genius to realize what
     Twister had been so nervous about: Lotion liked women, not men.
     Probably not a problem in an amazon village, but to the normally
     body-shy Twister, who had been male most of his life and now
     faced with a woman desiring his female form, something of a
     major quandary.
          "Different tastes. Right," the loan shark muttered, disgusted
     with events as she watched Lotion withdraw from her kiss and
     blink in confusion at the unconscious Darlene in her arms. "Excuse
     me," she spoke up, and the amazon looked at her, surprised, "I
     don't think you're going to get anywhere with Twister at this rate;
     fainting puts such a crimp on things."
          "Who are you?" Lotion demanded warily.
          "The girl who's been with him for over half a year. Name's
     Nabiki Tendo."
          Lotion wasn't dumb; she could see the anger this strange
     girl was holding back, and also saw the sharp intelligence behind
     the attractive face as well. Her instincts told her that a challenge of
     wits with this girl, her rival for Twister she sensed, would not be a
     battle in her favour. She also knew Shampoo's rough and forceful
     methods would be well known with this one, but Lotion wasn't
     Shampoo. Being rough and forceful for a mage was a bad thing.
          She stood up, and Nabiki followed suit. "I apologize," she
     said. "I did not know another loved him before me."
          Nabiki flushed slightly, but reminded herself she was not
     her younger sister. "Apology accepted." At least the amazon was
     being civilized about the whole thing.
          "But she--he--did defeat me," Lotion went on, but her
     correction showed she considered her husband female in her own
     mind, "and I must obey my village law." She looked torn, and her
     expression softened when she looked down at Darlene's still form.
          Nabiki sighed. Twister was right, she did look like a nice
     girl, but Lotion, like Shampoo with Ranma, had fallen in love with
     her boyfriend. The bad part about the whole thing was that Nabiki
     loved him too--it was pointless denying it. Well, she thought, if
     you're uncertain as to what to do, buy some time. "Could you come
     back to my place in a week so we can discuss this mess? I believe
     we both could use some time to think about this."
          Lotion considered Nabiki for a few second before nodding.
     "All right." She went to the window and opened it. Before the
     amazon jumped out, her eyes trailed over Darlene's unconscious
     form, then to Nabiki's determined look. Sighing, she hopped out
     the window. Nabiki came over and closed it, her expression
     dubious about solutions to this matter.
          Bert edged cautiously into the room at that moment. "Are
     the fireworks over?" Then he saw Darlene sprawled on the floor in
     a pool of water. "What the hell?!"
          "Lotion paid a visit after he told me what happened in her
     village," Nabiki explained. "Apparently, my idiot boyfriend
     defeated her." Bert nodded, his unkempt red hair bouncing a little.
          "Miyabi told me; that's a problem I suppose," he
     understated.
          "Did she tell you Lotion likes Twister's female form
     better?"
          Bert froze, and his face turned pale. "Uh, no," he admitted,
     swallowing. "That would definitely be a bigger problem." He
     managed to hide his own inner revulsion at THAT particular
     development.
          "I'm so glad you understand," she said sarcastically.
     "Finding out how to FIX this mess is MY worry."
          "Maybe I should put her--er--him on his bed?" the tall
     red-head suggested hesitantly. When she nodded, he stooped and
     carefully picked up the red-headed girl. He was about to head for
     Twister's room when Nabiki spoke up again.
          "Tell his roommate to tell Twister when he wakes up that
     I'll be waiting for him to call me tomorrow." He nodded and left to
     deposit his burden. Nabiki sighed and put a hand on her face,
     thinking about recent events, and grimaced.
          "This is just perfect."
                         *****
          A knocking on the door caught Kasumi's attention.
          "Oh my. Who could it be at this hour?" she wondered aloud
     and hastened to the front door of the dojo. Opening it, her curious
     gaze fell on three strange young men. "Yes?" she asked politely.
          Two of the boys gaped at her. "Look! It's a girl!" the one in
     a furred cap said to a much larger and muscular young man in a
     tiger-striped outfit.
          "What should we do?" that one whispered back.
          "Shouldn't we let Lord Herb handle it?"
          "Well, yes, but it doesn't hurt to practice for when we do it
     ourselves."
          "True!"
          The front young man with long white hair streaked with
     blue stripes had grown slowly angrier as the exchange continued.
     "Will you two SHUT UP?!" he yelled and a powerful ball of ki
     energy from his hand blasted the pair out of the yard.
          "Oh my!" Kasumi said, startled. "Didn't that hurt them?"
          The remaining stranger didn't say anything but turned at the
     sound of Akane and Ranma arriving behind the eldest Tendo
     daughter.
          "Herb??" Ranma exclaimed, wide-eyed, recognizing the
     visitor. "What the hell are you doing back in Japan??"
          The prince of the Musk Dynasty gave the martial artist a
     level look. "I have come to challenge someone and was told to
     come to Japan to find him." He paused, then narrowed his eyes.
     Akane and Ranma suddenly felt nervous.
          "Where is this--Twister?"
     
     THE NEXT DAY...
     
          Bert woke up on an unfamiliar surface, then remembered
     what had happened the previous night and sighed. After putting
     Darlene to bed, Nabiki taking the wet clothing off first in exchange
     for a drier set, he had decided to stay in the apartment to ask his
     unconscious host some things about the optical computer system.
     When she--er--he regained consciousness of course.
          Brrr. He shuddered as he also recalled what Nabiki had told
     him. I don't envy Twister's position, he thought. I'm not sure how I
     would react myself, but it's a sure bet it wouldn't be far off from
     his reaction: sudden unconsciousness. Or would that be running for
     the hills? He's tried both, I think.
          The sound of dishes clattering told Bert what had woken
     him up. He groaned as he rose; the previous day's aches and pains
     still remained with him and he was hungry to boot. His jaw and
     eye were still tender from where Ranma had belted him.
          Walking towards the apartment's small kitchen, he saw a
     mightily distracted Darlene fixing breakfast. She looked up, saw
     him, and continued her preparations.
          "Just a moment, Bert," she greeted him shortly, obviously
     still unsettled by something, "coffee's brewing; it'll be a minute or
     two." The displaced Knight Saber nodded dubiously and leaned on
     the dining table as he watched her.
          "No problem, and good morning yourself," he replied.
     Darlene blinked, stopping what she was doing as she stared at him.
          "What happened to Mr. Bear the caffeine addict? Or is he
     still hibernating on the couch?" she asked him. Bert started,
     realizing that he felt awfully damn alert for having risen only
     minutes ago.
          "Er--" He rubbed the back of his head. "I guess I'm still
     feeling the after effects of that jolt you gave me."
          "Oh, then it won't last long; a cheerful Bert in the morning
     is too good to have for long," she said impishly. It got a dark look
     from him and she stuck her tongue out in response.
          "Humph," he grumped, pulling out a chair and sitting on it.
     Darlene went back to fixing breakfast while he sat there, humming
     absently to himself and drumming the fingers of one hand on the
     tabletop. A twinge from his bruised jaw made him wince irritably,
     but he couldn't quite recall offhand how he'd healed himself
     earlier.
          He concentrated instead on the fact that he felt remarkably-
     -alert. Before, he'd always required a couple of litres of tea or other
     caffeine-laden beverages before he'd felt this lively in the morning.
     As he concentrated, it was as if he could suddenly hear someone in
     the back of his mind, whispering vaguely heard instructions.
     Without realizing it, he relaxed, his breathing evening out, and a
     moment later, he could somehow sense the source of his aches
     and pains. It was as if he could see the damaged nerves and cells.
     Bert found it child's play to simply reach inwards and nudge them
     into rebuilding themselves, banishing the discomfort from them.
          "Uh, Bert?" Darlene's voice cut through his concentration.
     "Why are you glowing?!" He became aware of her wide-eyed gaze
     suddenly as she stared at him, frozen in mid-motion of setting a
     plate on the table.
          "Why am I what?" he asked, then noticed the faint glow of
     purple energy sheathing him. Instantly, panic started to knife
     through him, and it seemed to him as if the energy began to swirl
     ominously. "I don't know!! I don't know what I'm doing!! I--"
          "CONCENTRATE!!! Calm you must be!!" a voice
     thundered in his mind, unquestionable authority in its tone.
          What the--? Who said that? he thought. Despite his
     confusion, the order worked; the panic disappeared, and the
     swirling stopped. The dim thought that he'd heard that voice
     somewhere before nudged at the edges of his mind. As he tried
     vainly to remember what it was that was so familiar, the energy
     and the voice disappeared back into the hidden recesses of his
     psyche.
          "Are you all right?! Want me to call the Professor?" He
     became aware that Darlene was already halfway to the apartment
     door, and waved her back.
          "No, I'm--okay now, I guess," he replied. At her somewhat
     dubious look, he felt a flicker of irritation. "I'm not relapsing," he
     amplified crossly. "My jaw hurt from where Ranma slugged me, I
     was thinking about healing it--and it--just sort of happened." His
     voice trailed off as he shrugged helplessly. "It was really strange;
     like there was someone whispering instructions in the back of my
     mind."
          "I think you'd better see the Professor again today," Darlene
     advised him seriously. "Maybe she can help you control your
     power, whatever you want to call it."
          "A damned nuisance, that's what I call it," he grumbled
     sourly, his good cheer evaporating as he leaned on the table. "So
     much for being able to go back to being normal." Darlene decided
     a change of subject was in order.
          "I've got classes all morning," she informed the gloomy
     Knight Saber. "You can check out that computer I made while I'm
     away and tell me what you think."
          "When did you make that computer anyway?" he inquired,
     his expression becoming curious. Technology of any kind was one
     way to get his mind off his problems, the young mage noted wryly.
          "Well-- It wasn't a new idea; I was planning on making one
     before you came, but then you did and it got put on hold. When
     your suit--um--got destroyed, I started building it to cheer you up. I
     remember everything in my male form and I've scanned enough
     hardsuits and Boomers, as well as looking at Sylia's systems a few
     times, to have a good idea of what you'd need. I even made a
     simple AI for it. Didn't you look at it last night?" she inquired.
          "Yeah, briefly. For all it's just a box the size of a normal
     desktop computer, that thing packs more than enough punch to do
     material stress simulations and everything else. Just how the hell
     did you manage that??"
          "Very precise telekinetic manipulation on a very small
     scale to make an optically based computer system and powered by
     magic. I've done it before, just on a larger scale." She grinned
     wickedly. "THAT version did a nice job breaking into the Genom
     main core." Darlene snickered at Bert's jaw dropping. "Think about
     it, Bert. A fully dedicated supercomputer programmed by someone
     taught by Nene, hacker supreme, and I built on her teachings. I
     broke into nearly every computer on the Net to get all the
     knowledge I needed, cheating in some cases. I remember
     EVERYTHING, Bert, and I can correlate that data as Twister. I
     made an AI hacking program that Genom would've killed for just
     to get into their core. Then I copied it all and they never even
     knew." The red-headed Knight Saber couldn't believe it.
          "Wha-what did you do with it?" he stammered. She
     laughed.
          "Sent it to Reika, aka Vision, anonymously just before I
     left. Heehee! Over a 100 terabytes of info sent anonymously! I
     didn't tell Sylia about that bit." She started giggling helplessly
     despite the memory of her agonizing decision not to show Sylia
     Genom's main files a brief look had been more than enough for a
     nauseated, dirty-feeling Darlene to determine her friend would
     never get those files from the red-head. Some things were better
     left unknown, but it was a damn good thing she had read the files
     just before leaving or Quincy would have had a very large, and
     pissed, problem looking for his hide! Sending it to Reika's
     organization in an angry decision to upload to Hou Bang still felt
     like a good move. "Quincy would've had a heart attack if he found
     out!" Bert started laughing with her for a moment or so, then
     finally decided to ask the question that had been nagging at the
     back of his mind.
          "So what are you going to do about Lotion?" he queried.
     Darlene choked and turned white. Uh oh; apparently some things
     were better left unasked.
          "Look, I just don't know, alright?!" she said forcefully, but
     still pale. "Just drop it for now, okay?!" Bert held up his hands in a
     placating manner.
          "Okay, okay!" he soothed, then snapped his fingers
     suddenly. "Hey, that reminds me: Nabiki told me she's expecting
     you to call her today," Bert told the agitated mage, who looked
     even more despondent when she heard that.
          "That's another fine way to start the morning," she moaned,
     slumping on one of the kitchen walls. Sighing after a moment,
     Darlene straightened and shook her head. "Let's just finish
     breakfast, all right?"
          Bert wisely kept quiet.
                         *****
          Yuriko watched Itazuka--no, she remembered after hearing
     out an upset Nabiki last night, it was Darlene--enter. The hopeful
     engineering/magic student noticed with some concern that her
     red-headed friend looked slightly pale as she sat at her desk. The
     young magic-user flushed as she remembered the problem
     concerning Darlene her roommate Nabiki had mentioned. She did
     not envy her classmate's position.
          "Are you all right?" Yuriko asked her. Seeing Darlene
     hesitate, she quickly added, "Nabiki told me about--um--IT." The
     red-head moaned, rubbing a hand over her face.
          "I don't know, Yuriko," Darlene sighed. "Thinking about it
     just makes me panic and unable to think properly about the
     problem." She shivered at the memory. "I'm going to go over and
     talk to Nabiki after classes. Hopefully, we can do..." she trailed off
     as she stared at the front of the room. Yuriko followed her gaze
     and gulped.
          Professor Miyabi had arrived, but with a brown-haired girl
     with long hair and Chinese clothing. The raven-haired teacher
     turned to the class with a wry smile. "Students, this is Lotion, a
     student of a friend of mine in China who will be with us for a little
     while."
          "Hi," Lotion shyly said with a smile and the males of the
     class felt their hearts beat faster as a result.
          "I hope you will make her feel right at home. I--"
          Yuriko wasn't listening as she worriedly watched the
     nervously twitching form of Darlene, who had facefaulted onto her
     desk. The blue-haired girl didn't think Nabiki was going to like this
     at all.
                         *****
          "Pull up the previous design," Bert asked the computer, and
     a hardsuit schematic immediately popped up on the screen in full
     3-D holographic glory. He smiled with satisfaction as he admired
     the plans.
          Fully exploring what the capabilities of Twister's computer
     was proving to be very interesting. The utilities were obviously
     Sylia's, or at least the Sylia Twister knew, but he noted there were
     some differences. Not worse, just different. Twister had thrown in
     a few programs of his own, and they were as tightly coded and as
     efficient as Nene's. He had learned well from the cute ADPolice
     hacker.
          After getting used to the rather unemotional AI, Bert threw
     himself into getting used to the system; there were a few things he
     wanted to try and as he had nothing else to do at the moment it
     seemed the perfect time for it. Sure he was still uneasy about the
     further changes after the battle with Twister, but at least he felt
     more at ease.
          Bert started as the truth of that thought jolted him. Had his
     magic-only change been responsible for him being so jittery in this
     universe? It was possible, he mused, he was still calmer than
     normal, but he was feeling more like his old self more and more.
     Likely the forces inside himself were reaching an equilibrium.
          "Correct, my student."
          The Knight Saber leaped about a foot into the air, knocking
     his chair over as he spun around at the strange, yet oddly familiar,
     voice's assessment. It had sounded like it had come from a corner
     of the room, but there was no one there. He scanned the room
     visually: nothing.
          "Great, now I'm hearing things," Bert told himself
     disgustedly. "Hope they've got rubber rooms handy; at this rate, I'm
     going to need one in a few hours."
          "Hear me you do, imagination I am not," the odd voice said
     in answer to his statement.
          "All right," Bert said warily, wondering what new
     weirdness was happening to him now, "then where are you?" He
     couldn't believe he was talking to himself in this way; wasn't that
     supposed to be the first stage of insanity or something?
          "Tell you later, visitors now you have," the voice said.
          "Visitors?! What do you mean by THAT?!" Bert demanded,
     but there was no reply. This was getting really strange--
          CRASHSNAP!!!!
          Bert put the mystery voice on the back burner as he ran
     from the room and into the main living area. He was greeted with
     the strange sight of a clenched fist poking through the door.
          "Idiot! I said KNOCK on his door--not punch through it!"
          "Sorry, Herb-sama!"
          " `Herb-sama'? Who the hell's this now?" Bert muttered to
     himself. Hesitating only briefly, he opened the door to the
     apartment, and found himself confronted by three young men. One
     was extremely muscular and wearing a tiger-striped costume that
     almost made him look like he was part tiger himself; it was his fist
     that had met with Twister's front door. The second guy was
     wearing relatively normal clothes with a fur hat, but it was the
     third member of the trio that held Bert's attention: a fairly tall,
     arrogant-seeming young man with long hair that sported an
     unlikely combination of blue and white stripes. Whatever it was
     about the third man, attitude or appearance, he felt himself
     bristling in response to the cool appraisal he was receiving from
     the unusual-looking figure.
          "Can I be of some assistance, gentlemen?" the tall red-head
     asked them courteously enough, his eyes flickering intently over
     them. He couldn't pin it down, but there was a definite aura of a
     threat here. "I--"
          "That's not him," the tiger-striped one stated positively.
          "Are there any girls in there?" the smaller man in the cap
     asked interestedly, peering around the doorjamb. His comrade
     developed a similarly interested look, and started forward into the
     room, oblivious to the person standing in the doorway.
          "Now wait just a minute here, buddy," Bert started, a
     flicker of irritation crossing his face. "I don't know who you think
     you are, but--" That was all he had a chance to say, as the
     tiger-striped individual almost negligently shoved him backwards
     with the flat of his hand, sending him sailing across the room. Bert
     crashed into the couch, knocking it over backwards. He lay there
     for a moment, staring stonily at the ceiling, then stood up, his
     greenish-brown eyes smoldering.
          "I did try being reasonable," he said mildly, his gaze
     spearing the muscle-bound one as a flickering purple aura began to
     grow around him.
                         *****
          Darlene felt it first, the vaguely uncomfortable feeling that
     preceded the wild magic surges she'd experienced lately. It wasn't
     a painful feeling, just disturbing. It felt a lot like the feelings that
     preceded the flu, and she'd never enjoyed feeling like she was
     going to be sick.
          This time, it was different however; the emanations were
     more tightly focused, as if under better control than before. And
     they were definitely stronger than they had been.
          The young mage glanced furtively around at the class,
     trying to determine if anyone else had noticed the strange feelings.
     Her classmates appeared unperturbed, and were concentrating on
     Professor Miyabi's last minute instructions to the student at the
     front of the class, who was about to demonstrate a minor
     conjuration spell.
          The red-head very carefully kept from looking at Lotion as
     the amazon stood shyly in front of the class. It was bad enough that
     the young woman had somehow found a seat close to her, but that
     look that she got in her eyes whenever they made eye contact was--
     terrifying to the young red-headed mage.
          A second wave of wild magic made her glance at the
     Professor as she stepped back to let Lotion cast her spell; her
     stomach sank at the rather grim look she received in reply. Miyabi
     could feel it as well if that glance was any indication. She quickly
     prayed that nothing disastrous would happen
          The young amazon made a slight gesture and started
     singing in a strangely hypnotic way; Darlene tried concentrating on
     the words themselves and their meanings rather than the fact that
     Lotion had a very musical voice. In response to the sung spell, a
     shimmering field of energy appeared in mid-air, above a desktop at
     the front of the classroom, and what looked like a bunch of flowers
     began to appear. Darlene wished she could hide under the desk as
     she realized it was a bunch of red roses. From the slightly amused
     glance the brown-haired amazon was giving her, she knew exactly
     what she was doing.
          The glow faded, and a large bundle of luridly red roses sat
     on the table, looking like they'd been freshly picked.
          "Very good, Lotion," Miyabi complimented her, before
     turning towards the class. "now then--"
          A slithering noise from where the flowers had been sitting
     made the elder mage turn back towards the conjured flowers, and
     she suddenly found herself confronting a twisting mass of vines.
     They were topped off with what looked like several Venus Flytrap
     heads, all of which started chanting `Feed me!! Feed me!!!' as they
     snapped hungrily at the air around them. Lotion was staring in
     stunned horror at the plants, while all the students within
     immediate reach of the mutated flowers dove for cover.
          Professor Miyabi sighed wearily as she closed her eyes and
     massaged her temples.
                         *****
          "Let's try this again," SkyKnight told the strange trio in
     front of him. "Just who the hell are you, and what the hell do you
     want?" The silver-blue battlesuit bulked ominously in the rather
     battered doorframe to Twister's room. The quiet hum of his suit
     systems filled the dusty hallway as the smoke cleared, and the red
     eyeslot in his helmet glowered threateningly.
          The muscular tiger-striped man groggily picked himself up
     off the floor of the hallway as his hat-wearing compatriot tried to
     do the same. Only the blue-white haired young man was
     unaffected, standing calmly in the hallway with his arms folded
     over his chest. As he hadn't tried to enter the room himself,
     SkyKnight had opted for restricting his eviction notice to the two
     who had barged into the room.
          "Interesting technique," the young man finally said, his
     gaze travelling up and down the silver battlesuit. "My name is
     Herb; I am the prince of the Musk Dynasty."
          "Fine. Pleased to meet you," SkyKnight replied, watching
     the other two warily. "Now why were you breaking down the
     door?"
          "My servants can be a little over-zealous," Herb admitted,
     giving the two of them an irritated glance. His gaze became intent
     as it returned to the silver Knight Saber. "We are looking for
     someone named Twister. You are not him, I presume?"
          "You presume correctly. I'm SkyKnight--it's a long story.
     Anyhow, what did you want with Twister? I can pass on the
     message it you'd like."
          "That would be acceptable," Herb nodded. "You can tell
     him that I am challenging him to a duel in one week."
          "Oh brother, not another one!" SkyKnight looked at the
     ceiling. "Don't you people ever get tired of this? Is life really that
     boring that you've got to go pick fights with everybody?!"
          "You will speak to Lord Herb with respect!!" the
     tiger-striped young man spat, lashing out with a punch. The silver
     hardsuit easily caught the young man's fist with a gauntleted hand,
     and then pitched him down the hallway. There was a crash as the
     flying body impacted with the wall at the end of the hallway face
     first, and remained stuck there as cracks spread outwards in the
     paint on the wall.
          "Go home and dry behind your ears first, kid," SkyKnight
     called after him, turning back to Herb. "I'll pass on the message,"
     he informed the irritated Musk prince, "but I think you're wasting
     your time."
          "We will see." The blue-white haired prince was unruffled.
     "But from his taste in servants I do not believe he will be much of
     an opponent." Inside his armour, Bert growled angrily: he didn't
     need this sort of arrogant bullshit.
          "Now just wait ONE minute here, wiseass," he began,
     pointing an armoured finger in the Musk prince's direction. "I am
     NOT a servant, I don't care much for YOUR taste in attendant
     idiots seeing as they could both use some manners, and I don't
     think YOU are much of anything."
          White eyebrows narrowed in annoyance.
          And Herb raised one hand--
                         *****
          Twister sighed as he reappeared near his apartment
     building. Maybe I shouldn't have overreacted QUITE so much, he
     thought, shaking his head. But then, he'd been climbing toward
     critical stress levels all during the class and those crazy plants had
     been just too much.
          "Shouldn't have used that Visionaries' rhyme," he muttered
     as he recalled what had happened with that spell.....
     
          <<<"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"
     Darlene had screamed, frustrated at the ridiculousness of the
     talking plants, then stood up and shouted,
     
          "By nature's hand, by crafts, by Art,
           What once was one, now fly apart!"
     
          Hands crackling with purple energy, she shot twin beams
     of fiery energy from her palms, which had struck the vocal
     vegetable mass dead center. There had been an instant where a
     matrix of flashing light raced through the green of the plants, then
     the whole thing exploded with a crash of thunder, splattering the
     whole room with destroyed plant matter. No pod or seed was
     untouched; nothing had been left intact.
          Eyes wide, Darlene stood panting and stared at the slightly
     charred table, forgetting to drop her arms. Everyone else in the
     room stood up and warily looked at her as she still looked a little
     wild. The Professor coughed politely and Darlene jumped, quickly
     lowering her arms.
          "Thank you for your--ahem--assistance, student." Darlene
     flushed at Miyabi's wry tone. "You look stressed. Perhaps you
     should take the rest of the class off," she had hinted.
          Darlene had glanced at Lotion, who gave her a smoldering
     look back, and nodded stiffly. "Sure. I-- Sorry for the mess," she
     said hurriedly, collected her stuff, and practically flew from the
     room.>>>
     
          "Yeah, that could've gone better," Twister sighed again to
     himself as he spotted his building.
          THOOOOOOMMMM!!!!
          The psionist was jolted from his reminiscences by the
     unmistakable sound of a hardsuit being blown through the front
     wall of an apartment building. He instantly recognized SkyKnight
     and swiftly reacted with his telekinesis to slow the stunned Knight
     Saber down, not on the normally psi-immune figure but on the air
     below the silver suit, creating a soft `air bag' to cushion his fall.
     The hardsuit's automatic jets helped too by kicking in about thirty
     feet from the ground, and the limp figure landed softly on the
     ground. Twister ran up to SkyKnight, who was groggily trying to
     sit up, wondering what could have blown his hardsuited friend out
     of a building like that.
          "Bert! You okay?!" he asked anxiously as Bert shook his
     head dazedly.
          "Lemme tell you that next week when I can see straight
     again. God DAMN that hurt!" Bert swore, unsteadily rising to his
     feet as he recovered. "When I get a hold of that so-called `prince'
     I'm gonna fricassee the bastard!" he growled. The visor eyeslot on
     his helmet glowed an angry red.
          "What `prince' are you talking about, Bert?" Twister asked
     him, face displaying his puzzlement. In reply, Bert savagely
     pointed at the hole his form had just made.
          "THAT one!"
          Twister looked up and saw the partly-armoured and
     unusual-looking person calmly watching them from the opening,
     two others just as odd behind him. Then the long-haired personage
     jumped the several-story drop effortlessly, the other two belatedly
     following, and imperiously strode over to them with his entourage.
     Suddenly, Twister experienced a sinking feeling as he came up
     with a name to match this stranger with. The slightly reptilian
     features and hair colour  gave the visitor away.
          "Herb. Oh, just perfect," he said quietly. SkyKnight's
     helmet swung around to look incredulously at him as the Saber
     jerked a thumb towards the advancing party.
          "You KNOW that jackass?!"
          "Only by reputation," the psionist managed to say before
     the Musk Dynasty trio came up to them. Herb stopped, ignoring
     the seething Bert completely as he looked Twister up and down,
     finally settling on his face. The psionist returned the favour,
     keeping a firm hand on Bert's armoured arm, ending up meeting
     haughty stare with his steady and curious one.
          "Are you Twister?" Herb demanded.
          "And if I am?"
          "Then I challenge you," Herb stated. This only confused
     Twister further.
          "Why do you want to do that?" he queried, puzzled.
          "That will only be answered at the challenge site, which is
     outside of this city. Our fight will cause less of an--uproar there."
          Rubbing his face with a hand, the brown-haired psionist
     scowled. He really didn't need this, of all things, to complicate
     things further than they already were. The reason for Herb's
     challenge was a mystery to him, but refusing to fight might make
     the Musk prince do something drastic to force him into it anyway.
     He sighed.
          "When?" he said finally.
          "You're not SERIOUS, Twister," SkyKnight protested
     vehemently. "This idiot--"
          "BERT!" Twister hissed angrily, startling the red-head into
     silence; seeing Twister angry was damn rare. The psionist did
     NOT want the powerful prince causing havoc in the city.
          "I was going to give you one week, but now make it three
     days. There is a lake with a large stone and many broken trees: that
     is where we will fight. It is--"
          "I know where it is," Twister interrupted, recognizing the
     area where he had first appeared in the Ranmaverse he knew. "I
     broke the trees."
          Herb raised his eyebrows, interested at that fact. "Indeed?
     You may be a worthy fighter, but then, I suspected as much. I will
     await you there." With a whirl of his cape, he imperiously walked
     off, Mint and Lime hurrying to keep up behind him. Twister
     released SkyKnight, who whirled on him.
          "Could you tell me what the hell THAT was all about??" he
     demanded. All he got was a perplexed and concerned shrug from
     the psionist, making him snort.
          "Just another thing to complete my day," SkyKnight
     grumbled.
                         *****
          Bert wandered aimlessly across the university campus, his
     hands stuck into his pockets as he directed an absentminded
     greenish-brown eyed gaze at his surroundings. His general
     appearance made him blend in with the throng of students
     swarming all over the campus, a fact he would have been
     appreciative of if he'd been aware of it; in the Japan of his birth
     universe he would have stuck out like a sore thumb. Like his new
     home of Mega-Tokyo, this Japan's people possessed features close
     to the anime he had watched before his dimensional crossing. 
          Herb's arrival made Bert uneasy. Despite his heroic
     leanings, notoriety bugged him, and he was beginning to see just
     how far the complications of being well-known could extend,
     Twister being the prime example.
          Well, at least he and Darlene been able to fix the door
     before he'd left the apartment; after his run-in with that
     self-proclaimed prince and his cronies, there was a definite need to
     get outdoors for some fresh air. He paced along for a few more
     minutes, unable to concentrate on any one subject for long, but
     feeling oddly relaxed just the same. He glanced at the lengthening
     shadows on the ground, and concluded finally that it was late
     enough that he'd better head back to Twister's apartment.
          After all, there was not much else for him to do.
          Damn it.