Previous chapters (up through four) are at
http://home.earthlink.net/~tannim/index.html
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-- File: rbane5.txt
Disclaimer: Who really owns the characters? That... is a secret.
Ranma's Bane
by Andrew Wilson
Chapter 5: Resistance
Kasumi scrambled up the rock wall while Ranma effortlessly jumped from one outcropping to another. Part of her was tempted to shift forms and fly up, but the rest of her knew that would be petty.
Things had changed in the past four years. They had wandered the globe, using the mists between dimensions (know to others as the Astral Plane) to cross oceans. Everywhere they went, the situation was the same. The Ba'al had slowly, but surely, taken over all the major governments in the world. In each country, high officials were replaced by doubles of one type or another. There was also the creation of secret police forces, like something out of a bad spy movie (or some anti-government nut's ranting), that enforced the Nightlords interests. In America, it was the newly formed National Security Bureau. In western Europe, it was the British SAS and MI-6. Eastern Europe was now watched by the reformed KGB. Even Japan was not safe, with Ministry of Public Security forcing many to watch their backs.
Which is why they were in China at the moment. Intermittent contact had been kept with both Cologne and Doctor Owens. Several months before, Cologne had requested a meeting. Neither Ranma nor Kasumi knew what was happening, so they took their time traveling, making sure that they were not being followed or walking into a trap.
Kasumi looked up. The top of the cliff was only a few feet away. Ranma had offered to carry her up, but she had refused. After all, she had said, the exercise would be nice. Even after four years of training under Ranma, she was nowhere near his level of ability in the Art. That suited her fine, though. Kasumi never wanted to be a warrior, though circumstances had taken away her choice in the matter.
Kasumi spied a hand reaching down. Though it was unlike Ranma to offer help, his patience was a small thing. Kasumi took the hand, and was about to offer thanks when she noticed that the hand was not Ranma's.
*******
<Four Years Earlier>
"I could use a lesson plan," Ranma explained, "but I doubt that would work."
"If you say so," Kasumi replied. They were in a small dojo outside of Kyoto. They were allowed use of it in exchange for Ranma teaching a few classes. Though his formal training was minimal, Ranma would be able to attain grandmaster rank in Jujitsu if he ever tested, but he wouldn't. He didn't have ambition for fame, besides the desire to be the best of the best. (1)
"I guess we have to start out by seeing how much your father taught you."
"I stopped training soon after Mother died," Kasumi replied. Her father's death was still tearing at her heart, though the nightmares were coming less frequently now.
"Then I'll go easy on you, for now," Ranma dropped into a ready stance, which Kasumi mirrored. "But I need to test your basic reflexes."
Ranma began with a slow (for him, anyway) punch, aimed at Kasumi's midsection. Seeing his wife's hands move to block brought a smile, which turned to shock as she grabbed his arm and flipped him to the mat. Springing to his feet, Ranma turned to face a smiling Kasumi.
"Father always said we were three parts of a whole," Kasumi explained. "Akane was the strength of a fist, Nabiki was the mind to tell the fist where to go, and I was the arm that moved the fist into place at the right moment."
"And you were also the heart that told the mind whether it was right to strike the blow."
"Yes, that too," Kasumi's smile grew. "Plus we were all fast learners."
Ranma laughed. "Alright, but I noticed a few mistakes in your form..."
*******
<Now>
Without thinking, Kasumi used the offered arm as leverage, flipping herself over the stranger's head. Spinning in the air, she landed to face the assailant.
Who was simply standing there, a slight look of surprise on his face. His rather familiar face.
"Taro? What are you doing here?"
Taro shrugged. "Doc was wondering where you were."
"And?" Kasumi asked as Ranma came out from behind a nearby boulder.
"And I wanted to test your reflexes," Ranma explained. "Not too bad, but I would have kicked him back as I was flipping, to knock him off balance a bit."
"Don't start, Fem-boy," Taro growled.
Kasumi shook her head. They had seen Taro perhaps three times, and the longest meeting period was a week, yet he was hard to forget. The banter exchanged between him and Ranma was also somewhat funny. It had escalated two years before, when they found out the laconic man's given name.
*******
<Then>
"He's dead?" Taro's voice was a balance between anger and disbelief.
"Yeah," Ranma replied. "Good old Happosai is a black stain on some wood. Why?"
"The law in my home village. Only the person that names a child can change the name."
"Why would you want to do that?" Kasumi asked.
"You don't know the name I've suffered under all my life."
"Then tell us."
It's..." Taro mumbled something.
"What was that?"
"It's Pantyhose! Alright?"
Kasumi had a look of deep sympathy on her face, while Ranma was trying hard not to laugh.
*******
<Now>
Of course, he wasn't known by *that* name anymore, just Taro.
"Come on," he said, walking off. "Doc wants you to see something before meeting Cologne."
Ranma and Kasumi exchanged a glance, and a shrug, and followed their new guide.
*******
An hour later, Taro stopped them.
"Change here," he said, shifting to his morphus.
"Why?" Ranma asked.
"Radiation," Taro rumbled. "Not much, but Doc says to be in your morphus, just in case."
"Radiation?" Kasumi asked.
"You'll see."
Another exchange of shrugs, and both changed. Another hour passed before the three of them arrived at their destination. Ranma recognized the mountain range, from when she and her father had originally passed through the area five years before.
The problem, though, was that one of the mountains wasn't there.
Or, rather, where one of the mountains should have been there was now a blackened crater.
"What did this?" Ranma asked, awed and horrified by the sight.
"Nuke," Taro replied.
"Not quite," a cultured voice said from behind them as Roger Owens approached the group. There was a grim set (if that was possible) to his skull-like features. "I suspect that the bomb was largely a product of the Nightlord's powers. How else would you explain a forty megaton explosion localized to this degree?"
"Why would they bother?" Kasumi asked.
"Prisoners," Owens replied, "fresh food."
"How long ago was this?" Ranma asked.
"Four months," Owens replied. "Now you see why Cologne called this meeting."
"Who lived herrre?"
Taro answered. "A race of bird-people. This place was once known as Phoenix Mountain."
*******
The past four years had given Shampoo an inch or two of height, and had added significant muscle to her frame. Cologne, on the other hand, looked as short, shriveled, and harmless as ever.
Of course, that's how she preferred to be viewed, because she was more likely to be underestimated.
Of course, Ranma knew both of these, because he had found out the hard way.
"You saw the destruction," Cologne's tone indicated that she was not asking.
"You called us here," Ranma accused, "because a bunch of birds got blown up?"
"No," Cologne replied, "I called you here to rescue the survivors."
Owens' head snapped around. "Saffron?"
Cologne nodded. "The Phoenix King has been taken. I can only guess how many times they have killed him for his energy, and how many more times they will do so before they tire of the game."
"Huh?" Ranma eloquently stated.
Cologne sighed. "Saffron is the king, or some would say the god, of Phoenix Mountain. Like the mountain's namesake, he is reborn in fire whenever death takes him. The Nightlord of this region knows this, and is using that fact to his advantage."
"What are you saying?" Kasumi asked.
"We're going to the Nightlands," Owens explained. "That includes the two of you."
*******
The group Owens had assembled was small, but formidable. Made up completely of Nightbane, it also looked like a horror movie set, or perhaps a circus freak-show. Owens was performing some kind of ritual, while Taro rigged his machine gun for his larger form. Felicia sharpened her claws while a man that looked like Pinhead from Hellraiser was cleaning a pistol. To the side, A werewolf with the lower body of a snake conversed with a woman whose legs had been replaced with the body of an armored spider, with her forearms encased in similar plating. Walking towards Felicia was what could only be described as a "demon-zombie" which was carrying an electric guitar.
Owens finished what he had been doing and walked over to the Saotomes.
"I don't believe you've been introduced to everyone," he said. "Well, we have a few minutes, the charming man over by Felicia calls himself 'Lord Raptor,' the blue-skinned fellow is Sharps, and over there is Lobo and Arachne. Any questions?"
"No," Ranma replied. "Weird names, though"
"Few have the connections to a past life that you do, young one. They adopt new names to reflect their new selves."
"What about you?" Kasumi asked.
"I have my own reasons. Now if you'll please shift, we're starting."
Time seem to slow for the pair as their forms changed. For any observers, the change would appear as a smooth morphing from one form to another. For the pair being transformed, it seemed a drawn out process.
Ranma could feel his internal organs shifting around, while his height decreased. Various cases of stretching, pulling, cramping, and even one sensation that could only be described as inverting told him how complete her transformation was. A tickling sensation crawled across her skin as the lines drew themselves. There was a slight pulling sensation in her ears and mouth as they reformed, and her vision seemed to bend for a moment as her eyes were reshaped. Almost as an afterthought, an odd feeling in her fingers announced that her claws were ready to extend at a thought.
Kasumi's transformation was less intricate, but there were more aspects. The only major reconfiguration that happened was a stretching sensation near her shoulder blades as her wings grew. A lesser version of that feeling manifested in her fingertips, turning her nails into claws. Her hair shortened, and the locks widened, becoming feathers. A ripple passed over her skin as it changed color, the same ripple changing the feathers on her head from brown to silver. A blinding, burning flash forced her to squeeze her eyes shut. Though her vision was normal when she opened them, she knew that her eyes has become solid, glowing orbs of color, with no pupil or iris in either.
Owens stood in the center of the rag-tag group. A patch of groumd below his waving hands suddenly swelled, then collapsed in on itself, forming a deep hole.
"What's this?" Kasumi asked.
"We can't always rely on mirror travel," Owens replied. "So when the looking glass in unavailable, we should go down the rabbit hole."
*******
The Nightlands hadn't changed since the first, and only, time Ranma had seen them. Same black sky, same desolate landscape, same sense of wrongness. She and Kasumi had never gone back to the place after Owens initially told them about it. The hopeless wandering of the creatures there was too much for them, especially Kasumi.
If anything, the place where they appeared was worse than the city of darkness that they saw on their first trip. Wedged in the rolling hills was a fortress to make Dracula's seem like Disneyland. Around the outer walls were pens, like ranchers would use for cattle, except the pens were filled with people, milling about.
"This is just a wild guess," Ranma commented, "but I bet the bad guy is in therrre."
"No shit, Sherlock," Taro replied.
"Quiet," Kasumi whispered, "both of you."
"You should listen to her," Owens said. "This isn't some fantasy setting or anime fan fiction. You can't just walk up to the main door of an enemies stronghold and expect to live."
"You know, Doc," Felicia observed, "why not just let them find out the hard way, like what you did with the rest of us."
Owens shook his head. "We don't have time for that.
"What's the harrrd way?" Ranma asked.
Felicia gave the pair a sly smile. But it was Owens that replied. "Don't ask."
Over the next three hours, they covered half the distance to the fortress. Normally, a walk of that distance would take a third of the time. However, circumstances were not normal. Besides the patrols of hounds and hunters (a winged hound variant), there were also scores of surveillance systems, both magical and conventional, that had to be countered. It took five more hours to arrive at the outer perimeter of the fortress. Shortly before arriving, though, half the group, including Felicia, Raptor, Lobo and Arachne, broke off to provide backup when needed.
Once at the outer perimeter, unfortunately, they discovered that all their sneaking around had been useless. Standing before them, with about a hundred or so hounds surrounding him, was a tall man in black robes. There was a self-satisfied smirk on his face, which was framed by purple hair.
"It's been a while, Doctor," the man said.
Owens bit off a curse. "Not long enough, Xelloss."
"I would love to chit-chat, but my Master wishes to speak with you."
Turning, Xelloss began to walk towards the castle. The hounds that accompanied him formed up around the group of Nightbane, assuming an escort stance.
"Who was that man?" Kasumi asked. "What should we do?"
"We have little choice but to follow him," Owens replied. "As for who he is, Xelloss is an ancient avatar for the Nightlord here. For thousands of years, he has functioned as a kind of troubleshooter. One of the deadliest being I have ever encountered, but also somewhat of a trickster."
"Trrricksterrr?" Ranma asked as they walked toward the fortress.
"Yes. Unlike most minions of the Ba'al, he is not motivated by a hatred of humanity. Rather, he is motivated by two things, his masters wishes, and having fun."
"That's not so bad," Kasumi commented.
Owens stared at her. "His ideas of fun almost always come at the expense of human life. He enjoys making others suffer. Unlike most other beings here, he prefers his food to be flavored with frustration and hopelessness rather than pain and terror."
"Nice guy," Ranma mumbled.
As they were led through the slave yards, Ranma saw Kasumi stiffen.
"What's wrrrong?"
Kasumi's eyes had been glowing yellow for a while now, which Ranma had always attributed to feelings of fear of nervousness. But when Ranma looked, they were flickering blue as well, which was a sign of sadness.
"Look at the second pen on the right, the closest corner."
Ranma looked at the indicate portion, and immediately stifled a gasp. Huddled together, their clothes nothing more than tattered rags that contrasted with the defiant expressions on their faces, were Akane and Nabiki.
Ranma forced herself to act as though nothing had happened, and saw Kasumi do the same.
"Doc," Ranma whispered to Owens, "can people who arrren't Nightbane go through the rrrabbit hole?"
Owens nodded. "We can't free all these people, Ranma. There is no advantage in dying here."
"I know, Doc, but Kasumi and I might pick up a couple passengerrrs on the way out."
Owens sighed. "Trying to talk you out of this would be a waste, just be careful."
"Of courrrse."
*******
They were led down corridors that seemed to be taken from the combined works of Dante, Steven King, and Wes Craven. Guards were stationed at regular intervals, which mostly consisted of squads of hounds at most corridor junctions. None of the guards seemed concerned about the presence of intruders. To Ranma, the either indicated confidence or stupidity. Either could be extremely dangerous, but Ranma didn't know which was more so.
"Where are you taking us?" Ranma demanded.
"That," Xelloss replied, never losing his confidant smirk, "is a secret."
"Can I kill him?" Sharps asked, running a hand over his gun.
"No," Owens replied. When Ranma had asked, Owens had told her that Sharps wasn't just named for the pins in his head, he was also a crack shot with his pistol, which was filled with similar ammunition as Taro's machine gun.
Xelloss' smirk turned into a full shit-eating grin. "You wouldn't get off a single shot before I ripped your heart out. But you're welcome to try."
The walk was finished in silence. Soon they arrived at the entrance to a throne room. At least, they assumed it was a throne room, since most dungeons did not have twenty foot tall, metal shod and engraved doors leading to them.
Xelloss gestured, and the doors silently swung open. Leading the group in, he gave a short bow before the throne.
"Master, these are the intruders you requested."
Scattered around the room were a dozen creatures that resembled hounds, though three times the size, uglier, and apparently more powerful. Another four of those creatures stood guard around the throne. The throne itself was a monstrosity. Larger than any man could need, and constructed of the same black metal that the hound's armor, it was carved with grotesque images of death and suffering. Lounging in the throne...
Was a middle-aged man in a gray business suit, smoking a cigarette.
"Greetings," the man said. His voice was not deep, but Ranma could still feel power in it.
"So you'rrre the 'Masterrr' that's been mentioned so many times." Ranma made sure to keep her hands out of sight.
The man smiled. "My name is Ahriman. And yes, I suppose that I am the one my minions refereed to."
"Just checking," Ranma said, gathering a ball of black energy in her hands. Before she could hurl it at Ahriman, the hounds in their escort had their blades at Ranma's neck.
"I wouldn't suggest hostility," Ahriman stated once Ranma dissipated the ball. "I only wish to talk."
"We have nothing to say to one of your kind," Owens asserted.
Ahriman laughed. "So you wish to let that fool Moloch win? I certainly don't."
"Is this where you try to convince us that you're benevolent?" Taro seemed on the verge of laughter.
"Of course not. But why would I work to destroy an excellent source of food and entertainment? There are billions of humans walking around on Earth like," Ahriman paused for a moment to think of a phrase, "Happy-Meals with legs." (2)
"Liar," Sharps shouted, drawing his pistol. Before Owens could do more than shout an objection, the blue-skinned youngster had emptied his gun, and was reaching for a spare clip. He stopped when he noticed that all of the silver, enchanted bullets had stopped short of hitting their target.
Ahriman lowered his hand, and the bullets dropped to the ground. "I was going to let you go, provided you did nothing to harm my minions. You broke the rules."
Xelloss, who had been floating near the ceiling munching on what appeared to be a bag of popcorn (though Ranma could tell that whatever was in that bag, it was not popcorn), dropped to the ground near Sharps. Only the hoard of hounds prevented them from going to their companion's aid. Xelloss quickly had Sharps by the neck, holding the larger man above the ground at arms length. After receiving a nod from Ahriman, streams of energy seemed to be pulled from Sharps' body, running down Xelloss' arm. Sharps began to scream, though the scream became weaker the longer the draining went on. After a few minutes, Sharps was to weak to even mumbled curses. After pausing for a moment to savor the feast he had just consumed, Xelloss calmly snapped his captive's neck, and watched as the body dissolved into black mist.
"I really did not want to do that," Ahriman stated, "but I cannot allow such defiance to exist." The Nightlord's tone shifted to something that would not be out of place in diplomacy or business. "Now, I'm willing to offer you a deal. That fool Moloch thinks he speaks for the Dark, but it truth he is insane. He wants to destroy humanity, when humans are our best source of food. Lilith understand this, and to an extent so does Mocker. Currently, Moloch controls a good portion of Earth, including America and most of Europe."
"And what about you?" Owens asked.
"I control China, India, and Japan. Moloch has tried to extend his influence here by sending avatars and Night Princes, but I have rendered those minions impotent."
"Why are you telling us this?"
"Simple," Ahriman's cigarette was almost burned down, but it suddenly reformed, extending back to it's original length, "you want Moloch and his minions destroyed because they are a threat to humanity. I want him out of the picture because he is a threat to our existence. Any fool can see that there is mutual interest in this goal. I'm offering you a deal. My minions will not do any harm to you so long as you work to destroy Moloch and his forces. Once that is done, we can go back to trying to kill each other."
"What about Phoenix Mountain?" Ranma asked.
Ahriman brought glass bulb out from a compartment in his throne. Inside the bulb, a glowing shape could be seem struggling against the walls of it's prison. "The soul is an amazing thing. A powerful one could cause it's body to regenerate indefinitely, insuring that any injury, even death, is only a temporary thing. But separate the body from the soul, and the regeneration is halted. If the soul is released near the body, there is the possibility of it being allowed to reunite before it leaves this reality, but only if the body is nearby."
Ahriman dropped the bulb, causing it to shatter on the ground. For an instant, Ranma saw the image of a man with large, feathered wings before it disappeared in a burst of flame.
"No more Phoenix god," Ahriman stated.
End Chapter 5.
Notes:
1: Don't start on the "Kempo is Ranma's style" argument (besides, it's never stated what style the "School of Indiscriminate Grappling" is based on). Kempo (according to my information) is primarily a upper body style, and Ranma is rather fond of kicks. On the other hand, Jujitsu follows the belief of "use whatever works." Now, which do you think Ranma's style would be based on?
2: Had to use that line, I couldn't resist.
A being that looks and acts like Cancer-man from the X-files, who possesses god-like power, and has Xelloss as a lackey. Anyone scared yet?