BGC is used without permission.
X-Men is used without permission.

	Okay. First off, this is primarily a BGC alt. The X-factor has
not yet cropped up to the extent it has in the X-books. Also, I will
use a few X-Men characters, but they will be a little different. Hey,
these people have grown up and lived in the BGC time. All I'm
asking is that you all keep an open mind when reading. Lastly, this is
set between Red Eyes (OAV 6) and Double Vision (Oav 7).

=================================================

         He watched from high above as the Boomer ripped apart the
Seventh Brigade of the ADPolice. A C-class, from the looks of it.
Stainless blue armor reflected the flickering glares of automatic
weapons fire and searchlights, lending it the appearance of a robotic
gorilla
         Another rogue Boomer, and the ADP was powerless to stop it.
Weren't they supposed to *protect* people from those freaks?
         He chuckled to himself. How could he use the term freak?
Wasn't he one as well?
         It would only be a matter of time before his existence became
widely known. Already some tabloids were running stories about others
of his kind. Stories that were dismissed by the public as mere sleazy
sensationalist crap. What would happen when that changed? He could
feel the world standing at a crucial crossroads, a sensation both
exhilarating and terrifying.
         The Boomer, having nearly decimated the ADP, apparently
decided to flee in search of more targets. Erik Magnus smiled, a grim
twist of the lips that bore no humor or joy. Oh, what that metal
motherfucker would find...

         "I got a fix on the Boomer," Mackie Stingray said from the
cockpit of the transport van, disguised as a delivery vehicle that
bore the logo of the Silk Dolls lingerie shop. "It's heading west on
the upper deck of Highway 47."
         "A good ten minutes away," replied Sylia, who sat in the rear
with the other three Knight Sabers. "How much more damage will it do
before we can stop it?"
         "Is that a rhetorical question?" Priss Asagiri asked
sarcastically.
         "ADPolice Tenth Mobile Unit has been called in," Nene said
from her
station. "They're planning to intercept the Boomer five kilometers
outside
of New Juuban."
         "Nene..."
         "I'm already plotting a shortcut, Linna," she replied to the
unfinished question. "We
oughtta be there in three more minutes."
         "Good work," Sylia said. "Finish suiting up. It's almost
showtime."

         Following the Boomer was ridiculously easy from this height.
Of
course, trailing rogue Boomers was seldom a challenge. One merely
needed to
follow the carnage.
         He saw the flashing reds and blues in the distance, heralding
another ADP roadblock. There were no gyrocopters in pursuit, he had
seen to
that. The engines on those flimsy things were so easy to short
circuit. Erik
wanted this Boomer all to himself. He only hoped those pilots hadn't
parachuted down
into any power lines. 
         A flash of his power was all it took to knock the Boomer off
the
highway. With a feral grin, he descended after the mechanical
abomination
into the graveyard of scrap metal far below. He would have a few
minutes
before any more ADPolice came to harrass him, more than enough time if
he
moved quickly.
         He hovered over the twisted hulks of old machinery that bore
testament to Old Tokyo before the great quake. The shadows hid all the
details, including where the Boomer rested. Where was it? The fall
couldn't
have destroyed it!
         The clanking of shifting steel drew his gaze to the left as a
misshapen form rose from the refuse. He could feel the probing sensor
antennae against his force field as it tried to make sense of what its
optics were telling it.
         Erik called forth the memories of the hatred, the killing,
the
wasteland his home had become as he rapidly increased the power
holding the
Boomer in place. 
	The memories flooded his head. Erik Magnus saw anew the
followers of a raving
lunatic sweep over his homeland, backed by combat Boomers they should
never have
recieved. 
	He could smell the acrid stench of burning homes and flesh,
hear the screams of
the dying over the roar of weapons fire. Then the soldiers tossing his
body into a lime
soaked pit with the remains of those who dared fight. Only he still
lived.
	The line between past and preset blurred. The feel of the
magnetic power
crumpling the Boomer's armor merged with the feel of his fingers
digging into the soft dirt
of the pit, its screams that of his own mother as the soldiers raped
her, of his sister as they
dragged her away...
	He scarcely heard the sounds of crumpling metal, nor the
inhuman shriek of a Boomer being crushed alive. As if it really was...

         "Hey, Sylia," Nene's voice said through her helmet,
"something's 
wrong!"
         "What is it?"
         "I've lost the Boomer!"
         "What!"
         "How can you lose a Boomer?!" Priss shouted.
         "All I'm picking up is a bunch of electromagnetic signal
noise," she replied. "Short-
range sensors are fine, but long range is shot."
         "And it's getting worse," Sylia said. "My HUD is starting to
act up."
         "Don't worry, sis," Mackie's voice said. "I just re-tooled
the EM
shields. Your systems should cope in a couple of seconds."
         "That's better," Nene replied, "but I'm still picking up a
lot of
interference."
         "We're almost there," Linna said from atop her Motoslave.

         He finally released his grip on the ruined Boomer, his power
retreating back to whatever dark place it called home. He felt
drained,
empty as he beheld the machine's remains. He felt no better for having
destroyed it, just as wrecking the others had given him no comfort.
There
was nothing left of his heart, only darkness and loneliness.
         Erik Magnus turned away from the sight, picking his way along
the
twisted strips of Old Tokyo.

         "Where is it?" Priss asked irritably as she scanned the area
where
the Boomer's signal had vanished. Her suit's sensors flickered as they
struggled to pierce the electromagnetic residue, unable to lock onto
anything. "Mackie, I thought the EM shields could handle this!"
         "Mackie, are you there?" Linna asked. Static was the only
reply.
         "Wow, it's really bad here," Nene offered. "The shields can
barely
keep up."
         "I found the Boomer," Sylia said, "or what's left of it." The
hardsuit's electromagnetic shielding barely managed to protect its
visual
sensors, whose images were shot through with the occaisional line of
static.
         What did this? she thought as she studied the twisted ruin of
what
had once been a C-class Boomer. Its body was mangled almost beyond
recognition, the armor plating twisted and warped to expose
still-firing
wires within the superstructure. Pieces of refuse were wrapped around
the
remains, as if used to bind the Boomer.
         "What the hell?"
         "WOW! What happened to it?"
         "I don't know, Nene," Linna answered. "All I know is that
someone
beat us to this Boomer."
         "Yeah, but who?"
         "I don't know, Priss," Sylia said, "but we have to get out.
ADPolice choppers will be
here any second. Besides," Sylia turned to face the other Knight
Sabers, "who or whatever
did this may still be around."
         "Oh, that makes me feel better..."

         Erik Magnus watched from above as the four figures spoke
amongst
themselves. They couldn't be Boomers, but he had never seen combat
suits
like those before. They moved freely within the residual energy of his
attack, even though he had left enough to trash any higher-level
system on
the planet.
         Wait. The one in light blue seemed confused, shaking its head
as it
spoke. The one in pink tapped its helmet, then shrugged its shoulders.
Maybe
those suits had been affected after all.
         Was he wrong, or did they look somewhat female? Could they be
the
Knight Sabers he had heard about?
         He heard the sounds of sirens approaching from the distance,
and
decided to make a hasty retreat. He could ponder the Knight Sabers
later.

         "Syl.... ia.... yo..... ead me?!"
         "Barely, Mackie."
         "Sylia... com... lia!"
         "Can you hear me now, Mackie?"
         "SYLIA!" The worry in his voice touched her heart in a way
nothing
else could. Of all the people involved with the Knight Sabers,
Mackie's
brotherly concern warmed her heart the most though she would never
outwardly
show it. "What happened? Are you guys okay?"
         "We're fine, Mackie." Sylia looked back toward the hovering
ADP
choppers, glad that they had managed to get away unseen.
         "When you went down there, I lost you completely!"
         "Yeah, Mackie," Priss's voice said, "I thought those EM
shields of
yours would protect our systems!"
         "They weren't designed for that much interference!" Mackie
retorted
hotly. "It's like someone set off a nuke down there!"
         "Nobody set off a bomb," Sylia replied calmly. "We'll explain
once
we're back home. Come by for pickup."
         "Got it, Sylia. Out."

==========================================

	"What a mess," Leon McNichol muttered to himself as he studied
the twisted
wreckage. High overhead sounded the muted roar of aerodyne engines,
their searchlights
barely illuminating the surface. "Why're they so high up?"
	"Something's wrong, Leon," Daley Wong said as he came up
beside the larger
detective. "I can't get through to the aerodynes, or to any other
units."
	"We're being jammed?"
	"No, it looks to be electromagnetic interference, but we have
no idea where it's
coming from. It appears to be residual."
	"This just keeps getting weirder and weirder," Leon replied as
he studied the ADP
Forensics Teams that swarmed about the scrapyard beneath the overpass
that led to New
Juuban. Sheesh, when was GENOM gonna get around to cleaning this crap
up? Probably
after hell froze over and the devil gave free sleigh rides. "We can't
do anything here. Let's
let the techno wienies handle it." Leon turned to walk back to the
waiting salvage van,
Daley in tow.
	"Forensics has already hauled off the Boomer. That's the first
time I've ever seen
one crushed like that."
	"Crushed?" Leon asked. He hadn't seen the destroyed
Cyberdroid, thinking to
catch the highlights from the pathology report.
	"Like a beer can."
	Leon let out a low whistle as the line of ADP vehicles grew
closer.
	"It's the damndest thing," Daley went on, absently fiddling
with his bolo tie. "The
Boomer was carrying a huge magnetic charge. It even stopped my watch."
	"A new weapon?" That's the last thing we need, Leon thought.
	"Could be. Think your darling Knight Sabers are behind it?"
	"Nah. This isn't their style."
	"Leon, how much do you really know about them?"
	"Enough to know they didn't do this."
	"Then who did?"
	Leon remained silent as he came up beside one of the salvage
vans and climbed in.
Maybe he should get a look at this Boomer after all.

===============================================

	Sylia reclined in her overstuffed chair, taking a small sip of
chamomile tea and
allowing the tension to drain from her body. She closed her eyes,
replaying the image of
the Boomer in her mind. What had happened to it?
	"It was what?!" Mackie's voice exclaimed, prompting Sylia to
open her eyes once
more.
	"Crushed," she replied.
	"Like someone put it in a huge press and hit the switch,"
Priss added.
	"What kind of weapon could do that?"
	"It could have been a magnetic type," Mackie replied to Linn'a
question. "That
would explain the EM residue we encountered."
	"Could GENOM be developing something like that?"
	"Possibly, Nene." Sylia resolved to have her sources check
into that. "If so, it
could mean big trouble."
	"Yeah," said Linna, "if it could tear up a Boomer like that,
what could it do to our
hardsuits?"
	"Well, whoever's behind it is gonna attack again. We gotta be
ready."
	"I agree, Priss." Sylia looked around the room at the other
three Knight Sabers and
her younger brother looking at her expectantly. She was the brains of
the organization, the
one who called all the shots. It was a terrible responsibility,
fulfilling her father's legacy.
"Nene, I want you to pass on all the information the ADPolice get on
this latest incident. I
will contact my own sources. I'll contact the rest of you when we
learn more."
	They lingered about for a moment more, finishing their drinks
before leaving to
return to their individual lives. Mackie remained a few minutes longer
before retiring to
bed himself, leaving Sylia alone with her thoughts.
	She stared out at the darkened skyline of Mega Tokyo,
dominated by the looming
arcology of the GENOM Tower. What were they up to? Why would they send
a Boomer
on a rampage to test a new EM weapon? If they wanted combat data, it
would have been
far more feasable to test it in the ongoing war in Europe.
	There were too many questions to consider with what few facts
she had. One, on
the other hand, kept nagging her conscioussness. What if GENOM was not
involved? No,
they had to be, especially where Boomers were concerned.
	Sylia left the foyer, the lights switching off once the
sensors detected no one else in
the room. She would learn more in the morning.

========================================================

	Quincy looked at the readout for the hundredth time, pondering
its meaning
beyond that a Boomer had been lost. It had finally begun, after all
these centuries. The X-
factor was beginning to crop up in the human race, but at an alarming
rate. In fact, most of
the mutations he had tracked had occured within a single generation.
He briefly wondered
what genetic scientists would think once they discovered that.
	Mutants couldn't hide forever. Every day, more of them were
discovering their
gifts with even more being born. They were, some would surmise, the
next step in human
evolution. Man's replacement rising from his own seed, the thought was
delicious.
	But they weren't perfect. While they would one day replace
human beings, they
were still plagued by many of the same detestable weaknesses, unlike
him. But Quincy
would fix that. When he was done, weakness would no longer plague this
world.
	For the first time in a thousand years, Quincy smiled.

=======================================================

	Daylight broke over Mega Tokyo, the light of the sun captured
by the myraid of
solar collectors that dotted nearly every rooftop in the city. The
dwellers of the night
retreated to what few shadowed places were available to wait out the
day while the so-
called normal people reclaimed the streets.
	Erik Magnus Lensherr, the Third, slowly opened his eyes,
grateful for the shadows
of the alley in which he slept. His back protested from having slept
on cool pavement and
lumpy garbage, twinging as he rose to a sitting position.
	He reached into the inner pocket of the long dark coat he
wore, pulling out a few
hundred yen. Enough for a very small breakfast, it was all he had in
the world. He would
have to find more from somewhere...
	His eyes fell on a young couple walking past the mouth of the
alley. Time seemed
to slow as he watched them, arms entwined with grins on their fresh,
clean faces. They
were happy, believing that their world would last forever. They would
learn the truth one
day.
	Magnus recalled how he was once the same, before the soldiers
came. Before they
torched his home and murdered his people. Before they destroyed all he
knew and ever
was. Before he discovered what he truly was.
	Erik felt an irrational flash of jealous hatred as the two
vanished beyond the alley's
entrance. By what right was he denied such happiness? By what divine
providence could
those in power murder those who were different from themselves?
	Stop it! he admonished himself. He couldn't hate all of them
for the actions of a
few of their kind... could he?

==========================================================

	"Well, what happened to you, I wonder?" Kai asked as he leaned
over the latest
Boomer wreckage ADP's salvage units had brought in. The soft halogen
lights from the
ceiling bathed the cobalt blue corpse in their muted glow, exposing
detail without glaring
at it.
	Kai ran a finger through his mop of greasy blue hair before
reaching for the
scanner he kept handy on the nearby equipment tray. The device held a
small LED
monitor atop a long plastic stalk, twin antennae sticking from the top
like rabbit ears. He
pressed a button on the handle, bringing the mechanism to life.
	"Hmmm... completely polarized... That's interesting." The
scanner showed various
pock marks on the Boomer's ruined armor, some with rounds still lodged
in. Whatever had
scrapped this Boomer had also shoved some of the spent bullets in
deeper while expelling
the others.
	"Some foreign material on the armor," he muttered, tapping one
of the rusted pipes
wound around one of its ankles. "For the record, I have no idea what
the hell did this."
	"Hello!" called a chipper female voice from behind,
accompanied by the hissing of
the chamber's pneumatic doors being opened.
	"Who's there?!"

	"Nene Romanova. I'm here to collect your analysis on the
latest Boomer."
	"Just wait a second. I'll be done before long."
	Nene nodded to Kai's back before taking a seat before one of
the many coutners
loaded with junked parts and scanning equipment. Several pieces of
half-assemled
machinery dotted the available space of the floor, a faint smell of
machine lubricants
hanging in the air.
	Nene felt a slight chill despite herself. The ADP morgue, or
the Junkyard as some
called it, was the last stop for rogue Boomers. From here they went to
either the evidence
lockers in the sub-basement levels or to the smelting chambers for
recycling. Even though
they were non-functional and in various states of disrepair, something
about all of them
sent cold fingers up and down Nene's spine.
	She wondered how many of the Boomers were down there because
of her and the
others. Nene smoothed her skirt as she stared expectantly at the
muttering techie's back,
legs jumping from nervous tension. Couldn't he go any faster?!
	"Done," he announced, much to Nene's relief. Kai turned
around, a small optical
disc in one of his greasy hands. "Take this to those desk jockeys
upstairs."
	"Okay! Thanks!" she enthused, snatching the disc and hurrying
out of the Junkyard
as fast as she could without running.
	What a weirdo, she thought as she looked around for any signs
of other people.
Satsified that she was alone, Nene reached into her jacket for the
small data recorder
Mackie had given her earlier. She then inserted the optical disc, the
recorder storing a
copy of the information in its internal memory.
	Okay, that's done. Now to get this to Sylia.

=========================================================

	"So, whaddaya want?"
	"A job."
	"Doin' what?"
	"What do ya think, numbnuts?" the hirsuite man snarled,
jerking his head toward
the wiremesh cage that dominated the center of the smoke-filled bar.
"I ain't here to clean
toilets and mix drinks."
	"Is that right?" the bartender leered, leaning over into the
man's face. "You think
you can last in the cage, wolf-man?"
	"Name's Logan."
	"Just Logan?"
	"Yeah."
	The bartender looked into the narrowed eyes of the strange
gaijin across the
counter. His dark hair and sideburns lent him a canine visage, but his
narrowed eyes spoke
of something far more feral. The barkeep swallowed past the rapidly
forming lump in his
throat before answering.
	"Tell you what, hairball. You show up here tonight ready to
fight, and I'll give you
a shot. You keep winning, you stay in. You lose once, yer out. Got
it?"
	"Yeah."
	Logan watched as the barkeep waddled off into the back, the
fat bastard muttering
under his breath the whole time. Not for the first time, he wished he
rememebered where
he had learned to speak Japanese. For that matter, he wished he could
remember lots of
things. Like who he was, where he had come from...
	He looked down at his hands, the old familiar rage stirring at
the thoughts of who
had done it to him. If only he knew who they were. He did, however,
know one thing... a
woman named Madigan.
	Logan had only vague memories as to who she was, or how she
was involved, but
he knew almost by instinct that she was a key to his past. He had
tracked her all the way
out to this blasted city on that, and he wouldn't give up now.

=================================================

	"Hmmm... This won't come cheap, Sylia."
	"I didn't expect it to, Fargo."
	"But I wouldn't be surprised if GENOM really was conducting EM
weapons
research," he said, taking another hit of scotch. "I did hear about
that rogue Boomer last
night."
	"I thought as much." Sylia took a long pull off her cigarette
before stubbing it out.
Silence stretched between them, the muted sounds of the television in
the corner all that
occupied the vacant bar where she and her main contact met.
	"...the World Health Organization had few comments concerning
the existence of
what press officials have declared the "Mutant Phenomena". When asked,
WHO
spokesmen stated that there is no evidence to support such outlandish
claims, saying also
that single-generation mutations are, simply put, impossible..."
	"You know, Sylia, I've been hearing more and more about those
mutants lately."
	"As have I," she replied noncommitally.
	"It really makes you wonder..."
	"If it's true?"
	"Is it?"
	"I'm not sure, Fargo," she answered, rising from her seat. "In
any event, it has
nothing to do with what I need."
	"I'll contact you in the usual manner," Fargo said before
Sylia turned to leave.
	Sylia stepped out into the open air of the city, exchanging
the smoke of the bar for
the pollution beyond. As she slid on her sunglasses, Sylia wondered if
the rumors about
those so-called mutants were not entirely unfounded...

=================================================

BGC used without permission
X-Men used without permission

=================================================

	"You've done well, Nene," Sylia said as she examined the data
the latter had
gleaned from the ADPolice's forensic data. Unfortunately, it merely
confirmed everything
she had surmised up to that point.
	"That's all the ADP has on it so far."
	"Who's running the investigation?"
	"Leon and Daley," Nene replied with a wink. "Seems we always
get those two,
doesn't it?"
	"Must be fate," Sylia deadpanned as she saved the file. "I'll
contact the others with
this. Let me know if ADPolice discovers anything new."
	"OK!"
	Sylia terminated the connection, Nene's cheerful visage
vanishing into blackness.
She leaned back in her chair with a tired groan, turning her head
toward the window. The
sun was rapidly retreating below the skyline, myriads of neon signs
fighting to pick up the
slack that earth's star now gave. Her eyes locked on the immense form
of GENOM
Tower, looming above the city as a giant would over a tiny hamlet
about to be crushed.
What were they up to in there?
	The commline called for attention, drawing her toward its
blinking lights that
indicated another call coming in. The number listed was false, as she
knew it would be.
Sylia was only surprised that he had come through so quickly.
	"Sorry I don't have time for a face to face," Fargo's voice
said over the line. The
screen remained blank, the man never liked to display visual when
contacting her over the
phone. "I am a busy man."
	"Perfectly all right," she replied. "What have you learned?"
	"That our friends at GENOM may not be involved after all. Or,
at least not to the
extent one might expect."
	"Go on." This could be interesting...
	"GENOM is not currently developing electromagnetic weaponry.
They were at
one point, but abandoned the research after numerous difficulties
adapting Boomers to
carry them. It seems that the cyberdroids would get fried before their
targets would."
	"But that doesn't mean they couldn't adapt such a weapon for
human use."
	"They tried that as well," Fargo said. "They were unable to
miniaturize it to the
point where a human soldier could carry it. They were too bulky to be
made part of a
Boomer's onboard weapons systems as well."
	"I see. If GENOM has not developed such a weapon, then who
has?"
	"Unfortunately, I don't know. I do know, however, that last
night's incident was
not the first time a Boomer had been destroyed in such a way."
	"I take it, then, that our mystery person has been operating
outside of Mega-
Tokyo?" She surely would have heard of another such indicent within
the city before now.
	"Actually, the very first attacks occurred in Europe, the
Netherlands, to be exact,
just north of Austria."
	"So, they've been working their way here." Why is that, I
wonder?
	"Exactly. Other such attacks have been reported in Turkey,
Ukraine, the Czech
Republic, Iraq, Bosnia, and other such hot spots in that part of the
world. Nobody has any
clues as to who is responsible."
	"Impressive. To think that someone can pull off so many
attacks and still remain
unseen. This may be the work of a powerful organization indeed."
	"The last was in Lopnor, China, at the site of a secret
nuclear weapons testing
facility. After that, the attacks stopped until last night."
	"Anything else, then?" Fargo had given her much to think
about. The man was
definitely worth the exorbitant price he demanded.
	"Listen, Sylia, be careful."
	"Of course," she replied. Why would he express concern all of
a sudden?
	"Some unconfirmed reports state that the attacks weren't on
individual combat
Boomers. They were centered on entire battallions, and were completely
successful."
	"I'll keep that in mind. Your fee will be deposited within the
hour."
	"Until next time," Fargo said, cutting the connection on his
end.
	Sylia heaved a weary sigh before reaching over to re-activate
the comm once
again. She had enough now to call in the other Sabers. Perhaps their
input could shed
more light on the situation.

=========================================================

	"C'mon, Yuka, you're gonna love it."
	"Hiroshi, I don't know about this..."
	"About what? I've got protection, if that's what you're
worried about."
	"It's not that," Yuka said, turning toward the passenger
window. All around was
darkness of night, the lamps this close to the old ruins working only
sporadically. "It's..."
	"This place? No problem! We'll just go somewhere else."
	"Thanks. I'd like that."
	"Okay then, we'll just... WHAT THE FUCK!?!"
	"Hiroshi, what... Oh, my GOD!"

==========================================================

	The roar of the V-12 engine filled Priss' ears as the garish
lights of Mega-Tokyo
passed by in a blur. The thrum of the screaming power plant between
her legs travelled
throughout her being, an almost euphoric sensation settling over her
as she expertly
weaved the souped-up motorcycle through the early night traffic.
Riding was one of the
few things that could soothe her angry heart. The thrill of teasing
death on two wheels
was far more exhilarating than standing before a thundering crowd,
shouting her rage
through hammering music and bold lyrics. This was the true Priss, not
hiding behind a
blonde fright wig and a skimpy costume.
	She loved performing, of course, but it lacked the certain
rush that riding granted.
Priss cherished the unique form of adrenaline that charged through her
veins as the
machine beneath her screamed its rage in echo to her own.
	Yet, there was another side to Priscilla S. Asagiri. One she
showed only to few
others, one she rarely felt the courage to release. It was this part
of the woman that drove
her on this night on an errand that not even her fellow Knight Sabers
knew about.
	Priss eased the bike off the lower deck of Highway 31, slowing
only slightly for the
off-ramp that led to the main streets. Here, she had to ride with a
touch more sanity, the
streets far too choked to allow for highway speeds. She hated riding
out here, but it was
the shortest way.
	Twenty more minutes of riding brought Priss into one of the
less populated sectors
of the city. The air was quieter here, though not necessarily cleaner.
Leaving behind the
noise of Mega-Tokyo was far easier than leaving the pollution. 
	Finally! she thought as the headlamp washed across the front
gate of the small
orphanage. Priss cut the engine, setting the kickstand in one fluid
motion before
dismounting. She hated these places, and hated the fact that Sho had
to live here.
	Some nights, all alone in her trailer, she would wonder what
it would have been
like to adopt him. She could make do, she had been living on her own
for as long as she
could remember. Making room for him wouldn't be all that hard.
	Yet then reality would re-assert itself. There was no way she
would involve Sho in
anything dealing with her life as a Knight Saber. Priss didn't want
him dragged into her
blood-soaked and violent world. She could no more do that to him than
she could quit the
team. Much as she disliked it, the orphanage was the best place for
him. God help the little
guy...
	The door opened on the second chime, revealing the woman who
ran the place
beyond. Her eyes widened slightly at Priss, then settled with the rest
of her face into a
warm and inviting smile.
	"Priss, good to see you again."
	"Same here. Say, is Sho around? I promised him I'd stop by
today. Sorry I'm so
late, but..."
	"Oh, dear. I don't know how to say this."
	"What? What happened?!" Priss felt a knot of cold dread settle
in her stomach as
she took in the sudden downtrodden look in the other's eyes. "What
happened to Sho,
damnit!?"
	"Priss, please! Let go!"
	She released her grip, unaware that she had even grabbed the
other woman. Her
heart seemed to beat in her ears, cold fear racing in her nerves. What
had happened to
Sho?
	"Sho... ran away a few days ago. We contacted the police,
but..."
	"He what?!"
	"Lately, he had been having difficulties with the other
children here..."
	"I'm gonna find him!" Priss exclaimed as she turned for her
bike.
	"Priss, the police are looking..."
	"AND NOT VERY GODDAMNED HARD! YOU REALLY THINK THEY
GIVE A RAT-FUCK ABOUT ONE LITTLE BOY LOST IN THIS CITY?!" Without
another word, Priss leapt atop her motorcycle, kicking it to life and
screaming into the
night.
	Sho... please... be okay. Priss desperately repeated that
small prayer as she guided
the machine into traffic. She had to find him. There was no way in
hell she would let him
grow up on the streets. Sho deserved much better than that.
	Priss finally noticed the blinking light on her bracelet and
muttered a curse. Oh,
why now of all times?

==========================================================

	"Well, Priss is late again," Linna said as she stretched on
Sylia's leather sofa.
	"Wonder where she is?"
	"I just got a message from her, actually," Sylia said, taking
a seat across from
Linna, Nene, and Mackie. "She told me that there was no way she could
make it in
tonight. Something has come up."
	"Like what?" Mackie asked irritably.
	"I just bet it's a guy," Linna said with a wink. "It's about
time, too."
	"Priss? In love? No way!" Nene exclaimed, fighting down a fit
of the giggles.
	"In any event, we have no choice but to begin without her."
Sylia straightened in
her chair as the others came to attention. She took a small sip of
Earl Grey from the dainty
porcelian cup before speaking again.
	"Nene managed to provide the data from the ADP's forensic
investigation on the
Boomer. As we suspected, whatever was responsible was electromagnetic
in nature."
	"It's systems were completely polarized," Nene added. "Data
retrieval was
impossible."
	"I thought a Boomer's neural systems and memory were sheilded
against EM
pulses."
	"Enough of it can punch through any amount of sheilding,
Mackie," Sylia replied.
"Also, two ADP gyrocopters were following the Boomer along Highway 47.
They
suddenly vanished from radar. The pilots survived the ejection,
claiming that all the
equipment on their 'copters suddenly went haywire."
	"So whoever's behind this didn't want an audience," Linna
said.
	"Wait a second. So, whoever is responsible only disables the
ADPolice choppers,
and flattens the Boomer? Wouldn't have been safer to just take out the
pilots, too?"
	"I don't know why the pilots were spared, Mackie. I do know,
however, that this is
not the first such incidence."
	"You're kidding," Nene said. "If there had been another, we
would have known
about it!"
	"These attacks on Boomers first started in Europe, moving
steadily eastward to the
Chinese coastline. A few months later, they started again here."
	"So, these people decided to take a break. But we still don't
know who they are, or
what they want."
	"True, Linna. All we can do is keep sharp. We can expect
another attack at any
time."
	The ADP scanner in the corner suddenly came to life as Sylia
finished her last
sentence. Mackie rose from his seat in a rush, moving over to the
chirping instrument
panel.
	"Looks like the ADP's gonna get a little busy tonight," he
said as he placed one of
the headphones to his ear.
	"What is it, Mackie?"
	His eyes widened slightly, casting a nervous glance at Sylia
before returning to the
panel.
	"Mackie?"
	"Our mystery men have struck again," Mackie said.
	"Where?"

======================================================

	Yuka looked down at the corpse of what was at one time her
latest boyfriend, a
steaming heap of blood and ruined flesh that had once been a man. Her
back pressed
against the wall, as if she could just pass through and disappear.
Yuka's heart hammered in
her chest, morbid horror forcing her eyes to remain open when she
desperately wanted to
close them from the sight.
	Atop what was left of Hiroshi's car stood a hulking shadow,
its weight having
crushed in the roof. It stood almost in contemplation of Hiroshi's
corpse, studying what it
had done for future reference.
	It turned, red eyes glaring directly down at her. Yuka fought
to scream, to run, to
do at least something, yet her body failed to respond to her mind's
panicked commands.
	The sound of metal thunder slammed in her ears as it stepped
to the pavement, one
monstrous hand outstretched to claim her along with Hiroshi. Pathetic
mewling noises
escaped her clinched throat as the Boomer drew ever nearer, its hand
filling her vision as it
moved to encirle her head.

	Erik Magnus Lehnsherr, the third, stood watch as the rogue
Boomer sought to
claim antoher victim, and felt the hatred well up within him once
again. Reason was
washed away on a tide of righteous rage as he rememebred how once
another Boomer had
done the same to his mother as she screamed in helpless terror. 
	There is no safe haven, boy, his grandfather's voice said in
his mind. There is no
land of peace. Only hatred and greed, where life has no value and
money is worshipped as
a god...
	He couldn't have saved his family then, but he could at least
save one person now.

	Yuka heard the metallic scream, her eyes snapping open. She
hadn't realized they
had been shut. For a moment, she wasn't sure of what she was seeing,
gaze drawn to the
spectacle before her.
	The Boomer hung suspended in midair, back severely arched with
an inhuman
shout bursting from whatever kind of mouth it had. Its body trembled
violently, as if it
were struggling against the invisible force holding it. Yuka felt a
strange tugging at her
wrist. She looked down just in time to see her watch snap off her arm,
shooting through
the air to attach to the struggling cyberdroid with a tiny plunk. Her
earrings were next,
ripping from her ears as other jewelry flew from her body to land on
the Boomer.
	As if it had been hit with an unseen fist, it flew out of the
narrow alley in which she
and Hiroshi had parked. Yuka's head swiveled on its own to follow the
cyberdroid's path
as it slammed into the face of a building across the street. Masonry,
damaged by the great
Kanto quake, crumbled as it smashed through.
	"W..wha..."
	"RUN!" screamed a voice from above. "YOU RUN NOW! GO!"
	Yuka was only too happy to comply, legs suddenly pushing her
up and carrying
her out into the alley. She kept running, blind terror forcing her to
keep moving even as
the heels snapped clear of her shoes and the sounds of warfare loomed
from behind.

	Erik saw the Boomer rise from the rubble of the decrepit
building's entrance, grey
dust coating its once green armor. It was of a type he had never seen
before, limbs bulky
and cumbersome. It head was a rectangular piece of metal, several
optical sensors dotting
the surface. It wasn't a combat Boomer, he knew that much. Perhaps it
was a construction
model. It wasn't unfeasable that the city was finally getting around
to renovating the
uninhabitable sectors like this one.
	Its sensor antennae began probing his forcefield, unsure of
the new threat that
faced it. Erik grinned ferally as he focused his power on the smashed
car below. He felt it
rise from the pavement, responding to his commands without hesitation
as he sent it
rocketing forward.
	The Boomer noticed it as well, but far too late to dodge. Its
lumbering body type
would never have been able to evade a projectile coming in that fast.
The car rammed into
its midsection, plowing the cyberdroid farther into the building
before a deafening
explosion shattered the night. The glare of the fire was masked by the
rising plume of dust
from the crumbling building. Tons of concrete and steel rained down on
its head, and Erik
laughed. He was carried away on a tide of hate, the sanguine lust for
the Boomer's life
driving him onward.
	What am I doing?
	The thought ended his high as he finally heard the screams.
There were... people
down there? Oh, what had he done? Erik looked down as several of the
homeless
scrambled away from the destruction, terror plain in their hurried
movements.
	I have to stop this, he thought as the light blinded him. He
cursed vehemently as he
crushed the aerodyne's searchlights. He then siezed the flying
machine, sending tendrils of
magnetic energy into the its systems. No sense in taking any risks.
The engine stopped
with a horrid thump as he fried every system he could find. These
things weren't very well
shielded, were they? He then set it down, gently, on the pavement
below. No sense in
risking any more lives tonight. He nearly turned away when the
cyberdroid rose again.
	The Boomer pushed its way out from beneath the rubble, its
armor dented and
torn. Sparks shot out from its exposed and damaged circuitry, wires
and strips of charred
and twisted metal dangling from hundreds of wounds.
	The damn thing is still alive? Magnus thought with surprise.
Well, he could fix
that.
	The Boomer was suddenly jerked into the air as he centered his
power on the
rampaging machine. There was no time for finnesse, he only needed to
finish this thing off.

	Aerial Patrolman Clancy Ricks shook his vision clear as he
righted himself within
the cockpit of the ADP aerodyne. A quick check showed that every
system within the
machine was totally shot. Whatever else, this bird wouldn't fly again
anytime soon...
	"What the hell?"
	He stared in stunned amazement as a Boomer hung in the air,
arms and legs
outstretched as if it was being stretched on the rack. For a brief
moment, Clancy
wondered if he was in fact hallucinating. A few seconds, however,
proved that he was not.
	He couldn't hear what was going on outside, but could see it
easily. Showers of
sparks began to rain from the Boomer's joints as its arms and legs
were pulled apart.
Clancy could only stare in awe and fear as the cyberdroid was
dismembered, the severed
parts falling to the ground in a heap.
	"Dispatch, come in, dispatch!" he shouted into his comm. The
reply was silence,
not even static on the line. "Dispatch, where the hell are you!"

=================================================

	"Let's go, Sylia!" Nene exclaimed.
	"No. I will not risk facing whoever this is without all of us
here."
	"But..."
	"No, Nene. I won't take any chances."
	"Okay," Nene said in a defeated voice.
	"Tomorrow..."
	"I know. Get what the ADP discover about this Boomer."
	"Twice in two nights," Linna said. "Our men sure are
impatient."
	Who are you? Sylia thought. Are you our enemy?
	"ADPolice are already there," Mackie said from his station.
"There'd be no point in
showing up, anyway."
	"Thank you, Mackie."

=================================================

	Priss pulled up to her trailer, the terror that Sho might be
hurt somewhere still
gnawing away at her guts. How long had she searched? Six hours? Seven?
All that time
scouring the streets of Mega Tokyo, and not a single sign of him.
	C'mon, Sho, she thought. Where are you? Priss knew how easily
a kid could vanish
into the darkness. She almost had, herself, when she was younger. The
police wouldn't
expend any real effort to find him. They knew how it was as well as
anyone else. In their
eyes, he was probably dead already.
	Priss dismounted her bike, legs numb from so much time spent
on the machine.
The sun would rise soon, and she could barely keep her eyes open. She
wouldn't be worth
anything to Sho if she fell asleep on her bike and crashed. If there
was one thing she had
been taught it was when to back off and rest a bit. Not that it made
her feel any better.
	Several times, Priss had come close to tears at the thought of
him out there. He
was probably all alone, hungry, scared out of his wits. The streets
could be a rough place
for a boy his age...
	Huh? Priss examined the door to her home, and noticed that the
lock had been
busted. Someone had been in there! Fear and exhaustion was replaced by
anger as she
drew her small Member II pistol and slapped it together. Oh, this
night was getting better
and better...
	Priss waited for a few seconds, hoping to find some sign that
a person was still in
there. Time seemed to lose all cohesion as she listened, gun held up
and ready.
	There! A slight thumping noise from inside! Looked like she
still had some
company. She took a deep breath before kicking in the door. 
	Brilliant light flooded the cramped interior of the trailer
once Priss hit the switch,
weapon sweeping the room. Her eyes locked on a target, a shout
bursting from her lips
that whoever it was had best not move.
	"PRISS! DON'T SHOOT!"
	That voice... was it...
	"Sho?"
	"It's me, Priss! Please don't shoot!"
	Her eyes adjusted to the sudden light, the sight of a little
boy in blue jeans and a
red shirt greeting her. He looked filthy and worn, terrified eyes
staring back at her.
	"SHO!"
	"PRISS!"
	Priss rushed forward, tossing the gun aside as she scooped the
boy up in her arms.
She held him as tight as she could, relief washing over her again and
again as she felt him
near her.
	"Sho..." she said, voice cracking from tears that fought to
shed themselves. "Are
you okay?"
	"Yeah..." he said into the crook of her neck. The skin there
felt wet as tears fell
freely from his own eyes. "I'm sorry I scared you. I... I didn't know
where else to go."
	"It's all right, Sho." Priss released him, and her heart
twinged at the sight of tears in
his innocent eyes. "How did you find this place, anyway?"
	"I... I saw your name on the side. I just thought that maybe I
could find you here."
	"Well, you certainly thought right. Do you know how worried
I've been?" Sho
looked up at her, confusion evident in his stare. "I stopped at the
orphanage a few hours
ago, and they told me you'd run away. I've been looking for you for
hours, now!"
	"I'm sorry," he replied in a tight voice. "But... I had to
go."
	"Why?"
	"The other kids were being mean to me..."
	"Aw, that's no reason to run away," Priss replied in her
gentlest voice.
	"They were scared of me, too."
	"What?"
	"They were scared. Because I can... do things."
	"What kind of things?" Priss asked, fear reasserting itself.
	"Things that they can't. Things that scare me, too..."
	"Oh..." She felt at a loss for words. What was he talking
about? What could he do
that would scare the other kids, and even Sho himself?
	"Lately, he's been having difficulties with the other
children..." the voice of the
administrator said in her mind. Suddenly, Priss realized the fearful
tone that had been in
her voice. What had she been talking about?
	"Priss, you won't take me back, will you?" Sho asked in a
trembling tone. "I didn't
like it the first time, and now..."
	"Hey, hey..." His chest began to hitch, sobs lurking just
beneath the surface. Priss
knew that she should take him back to the orphanage. It was the best
place for him, after
all. But seeing him there, so alone and vulnerable, practically
begging her not to, she found
that she couldn't.
	"Priss... please..."
	"I won't, Sho." The boy's eyes instantly perked up, tears
shimmering in their blue
depths.
	"Really?"
	"Really. But let's get some sleep, huh? It's really late. I'll
make up a bed for you."
	"Okay. Thank you, Priss."
	"No problem, Sho."

==============================================================

	"Oh, my God!"
	Logan scarcely heard the ring announcer as he downed yet
another shot of straight
bourbon. The smoke assaulted his nostrils, as did the stench of human
sweat and blood.
He felt the animalistic anger swell in his breast as the two cleaners
dragged out yet another
broken body.
	Deep within, Logan felt the old killer instinct fighting to be
free. The red anger
screamed for him to unleash his claws and shred all who entered the
ring against him.
	He restrained it with an effort, and booze. It took a lot more
than the next man for
him to get drunk. Sometimes he hated that. Logan may not have had many
memories, but
he did know that liquor helped stay the nightmares.
	"Eight men in one night! Who can posssibly bring this beast
down?!"
	Logan wanted to tear into the fat bastard that ran this bar.
He even smelled like a
greasy, pompous ass.
	"I'll fight him!" Oh, someone new?
	Logan downed another shot, straight up, and waited.
	"Listen, don't hit him in the nuts," The barkeep said to the
hulking mass of muscle
that stood in the cage.
	"I thought you said anything goes!"
	"Anything goes, but he'll take it personal."
	"Whatever," the bald man replied before charging Logan and
dealing a brutal kick
to the kidneys.
	Logan collapsed to his knees, hate tinging his vision red as
another blow fell on his
neck. He then felt a pair of calloused hands grab him at the shoulders
and fling him across
the cage.
	He picked himself up from the concrete floor of the cage. The
delicious battle lust
sang in his veins as the other's fist sailed toward his head. With a
savage grin, Logan
unleashed a punch of his own that met the bald man's fist straight on.
	The sound of an agonized scream filled his ears as he felt
bone crush to powder
through his skin. Another blow landed, then another, and once more as
Logan let himself
be carried on a wave of feral delight.
	Logan managed to restrain himself once more once the
realization that his latest
foe was unconscious pierced his brain. He stepped back reluctantly as
the bald man fell to
the floor in a pool of his own blood.
	"The winner, and new king of the cage..." the barkeep
announced to the screaming
fans, "the Wolverine!"

=============================================================

	Priss awoke as the first rays of the sun began to peek through
the dirt-caked
windows of the trailer she called home. While her eyes adjusted to the
light, her brain
began to take stock of something sharing the small space of her bed
with her.
	She cast a bleary gaze down at the form, finding Sho curled up
above the sheets
next to her. His small form was barely on the bed, shivering beneath
the dirty clothes he
still wore.
	Priss allowed a small smile to crease her lips before she
gently moved over. Her
back pressed against the corrugated metal wall, the cool sensation
awakening her slightly
more before Sho snuggled in closer. So, he was awake after all.
	"I'm scared, Priss."
	"It's okay, kid. I'll make room."
	"Thank you."
	Priss lay her head down in the crook of her arm, a strange
warmth filling her chest
and bringing a larger smile to her face. Was this... what it was like
to be a mother?
	Whatever the answer, Priss drifted back into the arms of
slumber before she could
find it.

======================================================

BGC is used without permission
X-Men used without permission

======================================================

	Leon McNichol downed the rest of what the other officers
laughingly called
coffee, hoping that the vile substance would revitalize his weary
mind. His head was
propped in his hand, which was in turn propped on his desk by his
elbow.
	If Boomers had to go rogue, why couldn't they do it at a
decent hour?
	"Wow, Leon," Daley said as he came up to the desk. "You look
like hell."
	"Being up for twenty-four hours straight can do that to you,"
the latter groused.
"Whadda we got?"
	"Well, Patrolman Ricks' story about how his aerodyne
malfunctioned checks out.
Totally polarized."
	"Just like that Boomer."
	"Yeah. Two Boomers in two nights, both magnetized beyond the
point of data
recovery."
	"One crushed, and the other dismemebered." What kind of weapon
were they up
against? "His description of the guy on the roof was pretty vague."
	"Yeah, too bad. Say, Leon, I got something you're gonna love."
	"Daley, this is getting really old..."
	"Get your mind out of the gutter," Daley admonished with a
wink. "Another
witness."
	"What?!" Leon exclaimed, suddenly fully alert.
	"Yep. A woman who claims she saw what happened to the Boomer.
One of our
patrol cars almost ran her down last night."
	"Where is she?"
	"In the interrogation room. She's pretty shaken up."
	"Can she talk?"
	"Yeah. She's waiting for us right now."
	Leon practically bolted upright, rubbing the weariness from
his eyes.
	"Let's go, then. Maybe she can tell us something new."

	The interrogation room was tiny, the four concrete walls
lending a claustrophobic
aura to the entire space. Along the far wall was a large one-way
mirror, where other
ADPolice officers were no doubt waiting to record the questioning.
There were, after all,
procedures to stick to, even in the increasingly lawless Mega-Tokyo.
	Leon entered first, seeing the woman seated at the bare metal
table. Her raven's
wing hair was dishevelled, delicate face pale and drawn. A steaming
mug of pseudo-coffe
sat before her, untouched. Her clothes were in a state of serious
disarray, tiny tears in the
fabric.
	"Miss Satori?" He asked as he sat down.
	"Yes." her voice sounded tiny, as if she was still terrified.
	"I'm detective Leon McNichol. This is my partner..."
	"Daley Wong."
	"We understand you were a witness to last night's rogue Boomer
incident." He had
to play it careful. Leon had seen people like her before. The wrong
thing could send her
off the deep end. He had to be easy with her.
	"I was. It..."
	"What happened, dear?" Daley asked tenderly. If only he was
straight, Leon
thought. He'd score like crazy with women.
	"The Boomer... it killed Hiroshi!"
	"Miss..."
	"Please... don't let it get me!"
	"Yuka, please!" Leon exclaimed. "The Boomer's destroyed.
Nobody's gonna hurt
you!"
	Yuka cried for a few moments before managing to regain her
composure. She
looked up at him with red tinged eyes, eyes that begged him to be
telling the truth.
	"I'm sorry."
	"It's okay," Leon said. "Just tell us what you know."
	"Please, honey," Daley added. "We promise, nothing's going to
get you here."
	"Hiroshi and I... we were parked in Sector nintey-seven."
	"Weird place for a date," Leon commented.
	"I told him that. Hiroshi said we'd leave, find another
place."
	"Don't blame him."
	"Before he could start the car... it came."
	"The Boomer?" As if it isn't obvious, Leon thought.
	"We saw the red eyes in the mirrors. The next thing I knew,
the front of the car
was pointing up in the air. I must have blacked out, because the next
thing I knew I was
across the alley, staring at Hiroshi's..."
	"Dear heart, you don't have to tell us about that," Daley said
in his most soothing
voice.
	"What happened next?"
	"Well, Detective, it started coming for me. Suddenly, it was
hanging in the air...
like someone was holding it. And then it flew across the street."
	"Really?" Leon asked, not completely convinced. Her story
sounded incredible,
like something out of a cheap horror movie. "Are you sure?"
	"You don't believe me," Yuka growled. "I know what I saw!" She
leapt up from
her seat, hands banging down on the table. "I saw that metal bastard
murder Hiroshi! I..."
	"Miss Satori! Please calm down!" Daley exclaimed, obviously
not wanting to get
too close to the raving woman across the table. "We only want to make
sure your story..."
	"Isn't a lie!" she shouted. The door to the interrogation room
banged open,
revealing two uniformed ADPolice officers ready to restrain Yuka. Leon
waved toward
them, telling them silently not to interfere. "Hiroshi's dead! That's
no lie!"
	"We know, and we're very sorry," Leon said in what he hoped
was a soothing
voice. "Anyway, will you tell us what happened next? Please?" Yuka
stood for a few
moments more, slender body still trembling before she sat back down.
The door closed
once more as the two officers left.
	"After the Boomer was thrown, I heard a voice from above... a
man's voice telling
me to run."
	"What did he sound like?" Daley asked.
	"His accent was really strange, not like anything I'd heard
before. Also, I'm not
sure, but I don't think he really knows Japanese."
	"How do you know?"
	"The way he told me to run. It was like he was still really
struggling to learn."
	Leon cast a wary glance at Daley, which the other returned.
Maybe the guy Ricks
saw was real after all.
	"Is there anything else you can remember?" Leon asked.
"Anything at all would
help us."
	"My jewelry," she replied, glancing briefly at her wrists.
	"Excuse me?"
	"Mr. Wong, when the Boomer was up in the air, my jewelry
started to fly off of
my body. My watch, rings, necklace, everything."

	"Well, Leon, that was certainly interesting," Daley said as
the two made their way
back to ADP Boomer Crimes Division.
	"Pretty unbelievable if you ask me," the other replied, "but
it does mesh with some
of what we know."
	"Our forensics hounds found some unusual things near the
Boomer's wreckage. It
does, actually, look like jewelry."
	"Really?"
	"Pretty cheap stuff, too. More gold-plate than real gold.
Costume jewelry, really.
Kinda tacky, too."
	"This keeps getting weirder by the second. What do you think
about the voice
bit?"
	"Sounds to me like the guy our man saw on the roof of that
building," Daley said
as the two entered the office space they shared with the other Boomer
Crimes detectives.
The sound of muted voices filled the air alongside the strident calls
of telephones and the
occaisional sqwawk of dispatch messages. "At least we have more than
we did last night."
	"Yeah." Leon flopped down in his chair, stretching his back
and legs as he leaned
back. "So, it's a good bet our mystery man knows something, may even
be involved
somehow. Do we have a face?"
	"Afraid not, Leon. The aerodyne's systems were totally fried.
Thing is, the video
and audio recorders look to have been hit the hardest."
	"Somebody doesn't like an audience. Okay, we look at Ricks'
description, and
Yuka's story about how he had trouble speaking Japanese, and what do
we get?"
	"An immigrant. Probably an illegal," Daley said, scratching
his chin. "Don't think
he's exactly a tourist."
	"Which means that Immigration is gonna want a part of this
one," Leon groused.
"The last thing we need is to bump heads with those idiots."
	"We'll keep this quiet for now."
	"Good idea. I'll have a few of my guys roust the local bums.
You check out
homeless shelters in the area."
	"Hey, Leon."
	"Yeah? What is it?"
	"I've been thinking lately..."
	"It's overrated, really."
	"Seriously. Have you heard on TV about those... you know...
mutants?"
	"Oh, come on, Daley," Leon groaned. "You really don't think
that a mutant is
responsible for this, do you?"
	"It could be."
	"Jeez. Mutants are just a hoax! Some crackpot scientists are
preaching the next
stage of evolution, and a bunch of stupid people are buying it."
	"What if you're wrong, Leon?"
	"I'm not wrong. Besides, mutants or not, it's got nothing to
do with our case."

=============================================================

	Priss slowly awoke in the small bed that occupied her home.
Her mind struggled to
rise from the depths of sleep, slowly dragging her body along. She
unconsciously flopped
her arm across the bed, finding it conspicuously empty.
	"Sho?" she muttered as she opened her eyes.
	"Yeah, Priss?" he replied, suddenly appearing before her. His
clothes were filthy
and rumpled, hair tousled from sleep. "Did you sleep well?"
	"Fine." she rose to a sitting position, and was greeted with a
strange sight.
	Her place was clean.
	Spotless, even.
	"I had to do something," Sho said, "to thank you for letting
me stay."
	"Man, it's never looked this good..."
	"Really?"
	Priss smiled at the boy whose eyes were near beaming. She
never realized how
eager to please he was. Almost like he was desperately trying to gain
praise.
	My God, she thought, how alone HAS he been over the years?
	"Really," she replied as she climbed out of bed. "I can't
remember the last time it
was this clean. Say, how about some breakfast. You must be starved."
	"I couldn't find anything in the fridge," Sho said.
	A knock sounded at the door, cutting off Priss' reply. She
smoothed out the
wrinkles in her suit as best she could. Who could be here so early?
	Well, to her, eleven o'clock was pretty early.

	"Good morning, Priss," Sylia said as the former opened the
door.
	"Sylia? What..."
	"We missed you at the meeting last night, so I decided to stop
by. Nene has found
some interesting information."
	"Yeah?"
	"May I come in?"
	"Listen, now isn't really..." Priss looked down just as a boy
came up beside her.
Sylia took in his torn and stained clothes, plain blue shorts and a
white tee shirt, and the
trembling form inside them. It was plain that he was scared, and of
her at that.
	"And who are you, young man?" she asked as she knelt down to
look in his eyes.
Sylia didn't like the thought of children being scared of her, despite
the cool facade she
displayed.
	"I'm Sho," he replied, wrapping a protective arm around Priss'
waist. So THIS was
the boy Priss had taken care of off and on before.
	"My name is Sylia. I'm a friend of Priss."
	Sho looked up at Priss, who nodded. He relaxed almost visibly
then, his posture
suddenly less rigid, yet his arm still remained attached to the woman
beside him.
	"Nice to meet you, Miss Sylia," he said with a small bow.
	"Likewise," she said with a soft smile.
	"Listen, Sho," Priss said, "why don't you go get a bath, huh?
Sylia and I have to
talk."
	"Okay."

	"And that's it," Sylia said, wrapping up the details of what
she had gathered.
	"He sure gets around," Priss replied, taking a sip of coffee
and reveling in the
warmth.
	"In fact, another incident happened just last night."
	"And he doesn't waste any time. What do you know?"
	"Nothing, yet. We were unable to get to the scene before the
ADPolice. Nene will
tell us what they find out."
	"Okay."
	Sylia regarded Priss for a moment, the latter staring into her
cup. It was obvious
that something had been bothering her, and Sylia had a feeling that
boy was involved.
	"Tell me. Sho, was he the reason you were unable to attend
last night?"
	"Yeah."
	"I don't mean to pry, but what happened?"
	"I went to the orphanage last night to check on him," Priss
said with a sigh. "When
I got there, they told me he'd ran away."
	"How did you find him?"
	"He was here when I got home."
	"When are you taking him back?"
	"I don't know."
	"Hm?" They were getting to the heart of the matter, and Sylia
felt an uneasy
sensation in her stomach. What was going on?
	"He's scared of something. I just don't know what."
	Sylia felt the unease grow. What could the problem be?
	"Has he said anything?"
	"He said that the other kids were scared of him. He said he
could do things."
	"What kind of things?"
	"He didn't tell me, and I don't want to ask yet."
	"I understand. Either way, I'll contact you when we know more
about the Boomer
killings."

	Priss watched Sylia leave, her own confusion compounding. She
had been too
weary to really think about what Sho had said last night, but now his
cryptic words were
becoming more worrisome.
	What could he do? Priss wondered as she heard the sound of the
shower fade out.
What could make those other kids scared of him?
	What could make him so scared of himself?
	The realization struck like lightning, bringing her upright
again. He was scared of
himself. Why?
	The only one who really knew was Sho, and Priss couldn't ask
him outright. But
how would she get him to talk?
	Suddenly, Priss wished that she'd had more experience with
children. Maybe she
shouldn't have put him in the orphanage after all...

	Sylia climbed into her car, sunglasses firmly in place as she
started the engine. She
didn't know why, but she had the feeling that Sho could end up to be
trouble, both to Priss
and the Knight Sabers.
	She hated to think of him like that; he was only a boy after
all, but how could Priss
fulfill her obligations as a Knight Saber if she had to take care of
Sho?
	Sylia reversed the car, bringing it about to make the trip to
the highway and rejoin
traffic. She couldn't blame Priss for being protective of him, Sho was
really a sweet boy.
And he was having a definite problem. Had she been in Priss' shoes,
she would likely do
the same and try to help.
	Perhaps this will work itself out, she thought as she merged
with the flow of cars
on the thoroughfare.

=====================================================

	"I thank you, Tetsuo-san," Erik said in the best Japanese he
could manage.
	"Yeah, yeah," Tetsuo said in English. His hefty frame seemed
to dominate the
cluttered space of the office, even though he was sitting down. Beady
eyes glared at Erik
from beneath impossibly thick brows, his entire frame emanating surly
menace. "Just so
long as you show up on time. We got a job lined up tomorrow. Your
skinny white-haired
ass better be here at seven sharp, got that?"
	"Yes, sir."
	"Good. Now get outta here, an' I don't want to see you 'till
tomorrow morning."

	Tetsuo Michiru glared at the gaijin that exited his office
with a pittance of an
advance in his pocket. 
	Damn gaijins, he thought. The country'd be better off without
'em. While he
professed not to like foreigners, Tetsuo didn't hesitate to use them.
If nothing else, illegals
like that Erik guy made for damn good cheap labor. He worked them like
dogs and paid
them not even half what his regulars got. A few well-placed bribes
here and there kept
Immigration off his back for the most part. Hiring illegal aliens like
that carried some hefty
penalties, after all.

	Erik walked out into the mostly clear day, turning toward the
nearest alley. One
thing he had learned was how to get around the confusing layout of
Mega-Tokyo. He had
made sure to learn how to tell where he was before he had started this
hunt here.
	Tetsuo Michiru, he thought. What a bastard. Erik could tell
the lardass didn't much
like him, and would only use him for the cheapest manual labor he
could. But, it didn't
matter. Just so long as he had enough money for food, he'd be fine. He
wasn't planning on
staying in the city very long, anyway.
	He briefly wondered if Tetsuo had any Boomers in his employ.
Possibly, physical
labor was one of the main purposes of cyberdroid development.
	Erik pushed the thought out of his head. Even if Tetsuo used
Boomers, he would
have to swallow his hate in order to work with them. He couldn't
afford to be discovered
like he had almost been last night. He hadn't been counting on an ADP
aerodyne being so
close by.
	Of course, if he hadn't have lost control, the cop might not
have noticed anything
wrong. In any event, he would have to lay low for awhile.
He could figure out how to take GENOM later.

============================================================

	Quincy stared out at the skyline of Mega-Tokyo through the
triple-reinforced glass
that comprised the entire outer wall of his office.
	Office?
	Throne room, really. From here, he lorded over practically all
he surveyed. Soon,
however, his hold would be absolute as it had been ordained.
	Where are you, mutant? he mused as his eyes scanned the
thousands upon
thousands of buildings dwarfed by the Tower. Two Boomers in two days,
the man was
indeed impatient. Clever, yes, but impatient. All that time spent
evading search squads
throughout Europe and Asia had definitely paid off, but his good
fortunes would not hold
out forever.
	Quincy briefly toyed with the idea of sending more Boomers to
flush him out. The
cost of replacing them would be of no consequence.
	No, that would only arouse undue suspicion within his ranks.
No one, not even his
closest aides, knew of his true agendas. Besides, Quincy knew where
the mutant would
eventually end up.
	He will seek me out. He will seek me, and he will find his
true destiny at my right
hand.
	And then there was the matter of the Knight Sabers. Of Sylia
Stingray...
	Quincy's visage darkened, his gaze shifting to a glare that
would melt steel. That
damnable Katsuhito had managed to slip that data unit past him,
molding his only daughter
into the woman she was today. He had to have known that his life would
end with his
usefulness, but Quincy hadn't forseen what he had planned.
	An oversight, he told himself, nothing more. He knew who they
were, of course,
finding that out had been pitifully easy. Also, letting them run free
had been amusing as
well as somewhat enlightening. The data gathered from their fights had
proven invaluable
in recent Boomer designs. Their usefulness, like Katsuhito Stingray's,
was coming quickly
to an end. Perhaps it was time he finally dealt with them once and for
all. They were
becoming far too annoying of late.
	Quincy smiled again at the thought of them lying broken at his
feet, of Katsuhito's
legacy crushed into the ground. His will would not be denied.
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