[FFML] [multi-series X-over] Project: S.H.O.D.A.N, prologue

[Chen Yong]

A little something I wrote years ago, back when I was still in high school,
as a means to avoid falling asleep during maths class. I didn't particularly
intend to continue it, but I've been toying with the idea lately, so here it
is, almost five years later, with miscellaneous small fixes here and there.

Formatted at 70 characters per line with hard breaks. Best viewed with a
fixed-width font (e.g. Courier New).




Dumpsters,   thought   Edge,  his   eyebrow  twitching  in  suppressed
annoyance.  It  never  failed.  It  was Alyss'  idea  of  a  perfectly
inconspicuous,  unnoticed entrance - deposited next to garbage bins in
some deserted dead-end alleyway. Wrinkling his nose at the unwholesome
stench,  he tabbed a hidden control on the side of his shades, causing
a  small, rectangular visual feed to pop up at the lower right edge of
his vision. "Sector port successful."

"UNIVER  quantum signature  verified," Alyss  affirmed. "Your  current
location  is Nerima,  Tokyo, Japan,  sector classification  MA-19. I'm
transmitting dataslots #1 and #3 now."

Edge  raised  one open hand; there  was a soft, mellow gleam of light,
and his fingers closed around an embroidered steel scabbard - one that
housed a katana, seemingly ordinary in every way save that it lacked a
tsuba.  Edge  thumbed the  blade  an  inch  from  its saya,  eying  it
critically,  and  then, duly satisfied,  resheathed it with a metallic
click.  "Received," he  reported,  his  voice a  dull  monotone as  he
fastened the blade to his side.

"Are you alright?" Alyss asked.

"Bored."  Edge shrugged.  "When every assignment comes down to nothing
more  than  hunting down rogue system  glitches, well, you tend to get
jaded after a while."

"There's   a  reason   there  aren't  any  jaded  Avatars  serving  at
S.H.O.D.A.N.  They're all  dead." Alyss' tone carried a slight hint of
reproachment. "Be careful."

"I  always am,"  Edge retorted,  slightly affronted.  For a  moment he
almost  opened his mouth to ask regarding his target, but bit back the
urge.  The  overriding rule  at S.H.O.D.A.N. -  superceded only by the
directive  that its  operatives upheld absolute secrecy at all times -
was  that one did not ask questions. He took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm
ready."

"Assignment  Z-19  officially  commences now,"  Alyss  stated.  "Radio
silence  is  to be maintained  until your mission objectives have been
accomplished.  Failure of your assignment, or the compromising of your
identity,   will  result   in  immediate   UNIVER  quantum   signature
termination to prevent Fourth Wall corruption."

In  other words,  S.H.O.D.A.N. would simply kill and abandon him if he
failed, more out of necessity than any begrudgement over his inability
to  deliver. It  never failed to unsettle him, but Edge merely nodded,
preserving  the  tight-lipped, mildly bored expression that had become
his calling card of sorts. "Thanks."

Alyss appeared slightly perplexed. "Thanks?"

"Never mind," Edge muttered. "Assignment status acknowledged."

Alyss  opened her mouth  to reply, but was cut off as Edge removed his
shades,  and then promptly crushed them beneath his heel. It was early
morning  in Sector Beta 6, and, as Edge stepped out from the alley, he
found  time to  glance at  a nearby  puddle of  water, inspecting  his
reflection.  He  was clad  in  gray  cargo  pants, black  T-shirt  and
sneakers,  which were  topped  off incongruously  with a  wide-brimmed
cowboy-style  Stetson  hat.  He  wasn't wearing  any  socks,  but  his
trousers  tapered off at  his ankles in such a manner that it was hard
to  notice.  A  small,  rectangular  magnesium  alloy-finish  PErsonal
Terminal  was attached  to his left wrist, secured via a Velcro strap,
while the Kikuichi Norimune, reforged and modified to his own personal
preferences  - his weapon of choice as an Avatar - hung from his side.
He frowned, almost worried that he was dressed far too eye-catchingly,
until he remembered that he was in, of all places, Nerima -

- otherwise better known as the Ranmaverse.

He  adjusted the brim  of his hat, setting down the street at a steady
pace, smiling as he did, though the grin was hidden beneath the hat he
wore.

It wasn't a very nice smile.

But then again, he wasn't a very nice person.


                                 ~*~

Saying  that Saotome  Ranma was  a good  martial artist  was quite  an
understatement.  The  16-year-old  heir to  the  Muzabeto  Kaketo-ryuu
school  had  been trained since young  to succeed the Tendou Dojo - he
was  talented,  in every  sense of  the word,  and had compounded that
talent  with  natural instinct  and dedication, taking  to the arts of
fighting  like  a fish to water.  Through sheer ingenuity and luck, he
had mastered the finest fighting techniques of both his father's style
and  the secret  skills of  the Joketsuzoku  clan. Despite  his youth,
Ranma  had  done battle against  crowds of hardened warriors more than
twice  his age  and size  -  he had  confronted legendary  animalistic
warriors,  demons,  even a god -  and had, on each and every occasion,
acquitted  himself  admirably. Martial  arts was his  life, and he had
devoted himself to it, mind, body, and soul.

Ranma  was also  finding himself  in  a rather  unusual position  that
morning.  He was,  in fact, in the very position of positions in which
he most rarely found himself in.

He was getting the crap beaten out of him.

The wall he had his back crumbled as his opponent drove another charge
of  energy at him, one that Ranma took the brunt of the force of as he
was  blasted cleanly  through the wall behind him. Principal Kunou was
not  going to be happy about the extent of the damage and havoc he and
his  adversary had  wreaked upon Furinkan High school premises, but it
was  the least  of his concerns at the moment. His opponent advanced -
levitating  several inches  off the  ground, arms  crossed imperiously
before  his  chest - as Ranma  struggled to pick himself up, trying to
not let it show that the mere effort itself was causing him tremendous
amounts of pain.

"Is  this all you have, Saotome Ranma!" Chronos demanded. Ranma's eyes
narrowed,  noting the unnatural glow of light that was building in the
other  boy's  right palm.  Blue-haired and  cold-eyed, the warrior was
clad in white satin robes and dragonscale armor that had allowed Ranma
to  recognize  his adversary as one  of the Musk clan. "You disappoint
me.  I had  hardly expected  that  one who  defeated Herb-oujisama  in
single combat would prove this unworthy."

"Heh,"  Ranma smirked, trying to ignore the wracking pain in his ribs.
"A  grudge match,  isn't  it?  It doesn't  seem  like  Herb sent  you,
though."

"A  meaningless fight," Chronos replied. "If I had known you were such
a  weakling  I  would  hardly have  bothered.  Your  helplessness  has
stripped  this fight  of all its significance!" Chronos' voice reached
an apex of contemptuous rage. "HITO RYU ZAN HA!"

It  was all Ranma could do to throw himself aside as gigantic, scythe-
like  blades formed  from pure  ki  arced through  the air,  instantly
slicing  through anything  and  everything they  touched.  One of  the
blades  nicked  Ranma's arm, burning  open skin and flesh, cauterizing
the  wound  even before blood  could flow.  The eastern section of the
school  block  was  demolished  instantly.  Ranma  raised  both  arms,
shielding himself as pieces of decimated masonry and rubble surrounded
him  in  a angry hurricane,  leaping back out into  open air as he did
even  as the building collapsed all around him. He was rapidly running
out  of options  -  fighting Chronos  was almost  akin  to fighting  a
manically  depressed  Ryouga capable  of  unleashing  endless Shi  Shi
Houkoudan  blasts, making  it almost impossible to get in close to the
Musk  warrior. That,  and  Chronos  had been  careful  to avoid  being
trapped  in  a spiral formation -  almost as if his opponent had known
about his Hiryu Shoten Ha technique in advance -

His  thoughts  were abruptly cut off  as a bolt of kinetically excited
air  slammed against his shoulder in a glancing blow. Ranma suppressed
a  scream  of agony  as his bones  were collapsed by  the attack in an
instant,  yet with  no visible  flesh  wounds. The  attack hurled  him
backward  like a rag  doll - Ranma hit the ground, skidding as he did,
gouging  a  furrow through the freshly  cut grass of the school soccer
field.

"Saotome  Ranma!" Chronos  roared. "For your crimes of humiliating the
Musk  Dynasty  - for  defying our  lord and  master, Herb-oujisama - I
hereby sentence you to death -"

His  outburst was suddenly cut off by black blur of speed that slammed
into  him, driving  a raised knee into his face. Unlike Ranma's blows,
this  attack  was unusual in a  very remarkable way - it broke through
his ki field, connected with his face in an extremely painful fashion,
and sent him flying.

"What..."

A second blow, this time a rising snapkick that blasted itself against
his  spine -  his  attacker had  matched his  flight  speed and  path,
intercepting  him  even before he could  reach the earth. The force of
the  blow bent him double, hurling him vertically upward, and, through
his  agony, shock,  and surprise, he caught a glimpse of his assailant
this  time, clad  in black T-shirt and beige cargo pants, his features
hidden  from view  by his  bowed head  and cowboy  hat. He  was close,
closer  than he should be, and then he realized why. His adversary had
leapt  up after  him, even though he was now thrown almost ten stories
high into the air -

"X4 Zero Saber System..."

The sun's rays glinted harshly in his eyes, reflected by the elegantly
angular  daikatana  Edge had pulled  from his  side. For a moment Edge
seemed  frozen  in pose,  a dark shadow  silhouetted against the wide,
pale  blue expanse of the early morning sky, fingers closed around the
tip  of the  Kikuichi Norimune in such a fashion that the blade almost
seemed  like  a silver,  crescent moon -  until the daikatana exploded
into  a blazing  aura. Edge wasn't just holding the blade itself now -
ice-blue shards of wintry ice coalesced themselves around the Kikuichi
Norimune, forming a secondary cutting edge the width and size of a bus
as the Avatar drove it downward like a lance.

"HYORETSUZAN!"

Chronos  vanished amidst the arctic onslaught, trapped and entombed in
a  virtual ice  glacier.  Both  combatants reached  the  earth -  Edge
gracefully on his feet, the other smashing into the ground with enough
force to crack the asphalt. The Avatar rose to his feet, his breathing
still  heavy  from his  exertions, but  one look  at Chronos, buried -
frozen and unmoving - in a jaggedly solid block of ice, confirmed that
his mission was complete.

"Get  up," he muttered, nudging Ranma lazily with the toe of his boot,
and  then  - before Ranma could  do anything - picked up the battered,
bruised martial artist by the collar. Edge eyed the boy coldly, with a
professionally cultivated air of boredom and disinterest. The Muzabeto
Kaketo-ryuu  heir was next to unconscious, but he was still breathing,
and  would  continue to do so  - satisfied that the boy would survive,
Edge tossed him carelessly aside, and then replaced his daikatana back
into its saya.

"This  is  Edge to  S.H.O.D.A.N.  Beta  6.  Assignment Z-19  has  been
successfully  completed.  Sector stability not compromised." Edge cast
one final look at his surroundings, and then, "I'm porting out now -"

He  paused,  his brow darkening, as  the sound of cracking ice reached
his ears.

The glacier, the one he had buried Chronos in, exploded.

A  stifled curse  on his lips -  and Edge moved, breaking into a dash,
leading  with his  side as he lunged  towards - instead of away from -
the  glinting,  razor-sharp  fragments  of flying  ice.  The  Kikuichi
Norimune  was flicked  from its  saya  in the  blink of  an eye;  Edge
gripped  the  weapon tightly, sweeping  upwards, cleaving the very air
apart   in  a  pressure  strike  that  blasted  the  atmosphere  away,
deflecting  the  ice shards  away as  if they were  no more than paper
scraps.  The blade reached its apex, and the Avatar turned it about in
his  hands, reversing  its path,  angling  its tip  at where  Chronos'
throat would be -

Chronos was gone.

Edge  afforded a  split-second to  blink  in surprise,  before a  kick
smashed  itself  against the back  of his skull, hurling him violently
forward.  Starbursts  filled his  vision; the  kick had been delivered
with  enough force  to almost rip his head off his shoulders. Blithely
he felt himself hit the ground, felt the pain as the earth ripped open
countless gashes on his flesh -

-  felt the  raw, searing agony as  Chronos mashed him with a ki blast
the size of a house.

The  world  exploded into a  blinding, screaming, tortured white haze,
and  Edge bit  down on  his lip,  hard enough  to draw  blood, forcing
himself  to  not scream, to gather  whatever senses he had left as the
impact  of the  blast lifted  him  bodily, slamming  him repeatedly  -
mercilessly - against a multitude of rubble, debris, and other objects
he  wasn't cognizant enough to recognize. A fence halted his course as
he  crashed against it, back-first, his fingers scrabbling desperately
for his daikatana - until he realized that he was still holding it.

He  allowed  himself an instant's  worth of numbed motionlessness, and
then  picked -  dragged -  himself  back to  his feet.  The blast  had
flattened everything within vicinity, but Edge didn't really care. His
Stetson  hat had been  blown off his head during the fray, and was now
hanging from his back via a length of coarse string. The Avatar put it
back  on carefully,  adjusting it to its customary low angle, one that
covered  his eyes, allowing him to observe other people without making
it  immediately obvious  that he was doing so. A quick, diagonal swipe
of the Kikuichi Norimune dispersed the cloud of ash and debris, almost
as  if it  had been  sucked away,  revealing Chronos  standing in  the
middle of what had once been the street.

"Who are you?" Chronos demanded angrily.

"I don't need to give my name to someone who's about to die."

Edge charged.

Chronos  blinked,  and Edge  was already  upon him  - head bowed, body
tilted,  a hand  resting lightly on the grip of the daikatana that was
tucked neatly against his side - a daikatana that was ripped free from
its saya in a swift motion as Edge unsheathed the blade, hammering the
bottom  of the  hilt  against  Chronos' chin  in  an uppercut  motion,
sending  his  head snapping backwards.  Now that they were this close,
Chronos  caught a  brief, fleeting glimpse of his adversary's face for
the  first time.  A pair  of  crimson eyes,  blood-red in  hue with  a
startling intensity, stared back into his own - soulless and depraved,
set  against  a  sharp  face  that almost  corpse-like  in  its  cold,
apathetic emotionlessness.

Zero Saber System-

"ENGOKU RYU SEN!"

A  massive  cyclone  of  black  flames  erupted  around  the  Kikuichi
Norimune,  swirling with overwhelming intensity as Edge tore the blade
upwards  in  a vertical rising  slash. The tornado of flames exploded,
sending   arcs   of  ravenous,  spiritual  fire  pouring  outwards  in
incinerating,  destructive blasts of midnight flames. Chronos tried to
scream, only to find his voice drowned out by the roar of the hellfire
as  it ignited the very air around the two combatants, even as Chronos
was thrust upwards by a vertical rising strike that had all but sliced
his  right  arm apart. There  was no emotion on  Edge's face - no hint
that  the  Avatar was aware  of what was  transpiring, or that he even
cared - there was no joy of the kill, no sorrow over the persecution -
both  fighters reached  their  respective apexes,  with Edge  slightly
higher, the blade of the Kikuichi Norimune glowing as it was heated to
a white-hot cutting edge by the summoned flames.

A soft whisper on his lips, Edge leveled the daikatana at his opponent
-

As  if  by a  concerted, collective  will, every  last arc of hellfire
blazed  through the  air, directed by the sword, pouring into Chronos'
falling,  beaten form  in a single, destructive surge, burning away at
both  flesh and  soul. Chronos screamed - Edge ignored it, drawing his
daikatana  to  his side with  both hands as  gravity began to will him
back  towards the ground as well, his eyes closed as he braced himself
for the correct state of mind that the next kata would require.

"Rakukoujin."

His  arm straightened, the Kikuichi Norimune held erect above his head
even  as he  plummeted after his opponent - green circuit lines flowed
around the daikatana, summoning and executing digital codestrings from
cyberspace.  Chronos had  somehow managed to regain enough presence of
mind  to  land on  his feet, staring  balefully at Edge  - even as the
Avatar swung his weapon downwards single-handedly, sending it crashing
onto  the earth  with enough force to sink the gigantic blade into the
ground, splitting Chronus in two -

- and missed.

Edge  looked  up, the sunlight  filtering past  the brim of his cowboy
hat,  and saw his opponent, levitating in mid-air, albeit with visible
effort  -  just as  the ground  exploded beneath  his feet. Edge leapt
aside, one hand holding his weapon, the other clutching at his Stetson
hat  -  running, dodging  in every  direction as the  earth blew up in
sporadic  charges from  below him, seemingly at random. Edge spared an
instant  to glance at Chronos, and smiled briefly as he recognized the
technique.

"I  am  Chronos, prince of the  Musk Dynasty, descendant of the dragon
race!"  The Musk warrior's face was frozen in livid rage as he swooped
after  the  Avatar. "I come  to avenge the dishonor  of my clan at the
hands of Saotome Ranma - I WILL NOT BE DENIED!"

"Chigao  desu yo~"  Edge shook his head.  "You're just  an error...  a
glitch in the systems. There was never a Musk warrior named Chronos in
the  Ranma 1/2  series." Edge  stared calmly  at Chronos,  and, for  a
fleeting  moment, there was a flash of what appeared to be pity in his
blood-crimson eyes. "Whoever you are, you don't exist. You never did."

His  grip tightened on the Kikuichi Norimune. "And I'm here to make it
that way."

"WHAT IS YOUR PURPOSE!" Chronos screamed. "WHO - WHAT ARE YOU!"

Edge  merely tilted  the rim  of  his hat  in response.  "I told  you.
There's no point in giving my name to a dead man."

"It  is  you who will die,  fool," Chronos spat. "For all your prowess
with  a blade - even if you are Hitokiri Battousai himself - you can't
kill  someone  you cannot reach,  while I have all  the time I need to
annihilate  you as  I will." The Musk's face twisted into a cold grin.
"I will make sure that your death is a slow one."

A  metallic,  sliding  sound  rasped as  Edge  sheathed  the  Kikuichi
Norimune  with  a slow,  deliberate movement, and  then raised a foot,
tapping  the  toe of  his  boot  against  the  ground twice  in  rapid
succession,  testing  his  traction,  and found  it  satisfactory.  "I
wouldn't  do  that if  I were you."  There was a  strange smile on the
Avatar's  face. "If  you're going to kill me, I'd advise you to finish
it in one blow - it could very well be the last move you make."

"AS  YOU WISH!" Chronos roared, his robes flaring in a sudden backlash
of  energy. Edge dropped to his feet in a half-crouch, subtly aware of
the  delicate  changes in  atmospheric pressure  around him as Chronos
manipulated ki-excited air around himself to maintain his flight.

And  then it  came -  a sudden  streak of  pressurized air  as Chronos
launched entire salvos of seeking ki attacks all at once. Edge tensed,
pure  exhilaration  running  through  his  body,  hot  blood  pounding
furiously in his ears in a way that he felt only in combat...

"It ends now!" Chronos yelled. "RYUSEI HISHO -"

You're right, Musk. It ends here.

"Onsoku no Geeto... Open."

Except that it's you who's going to die.

Edge  moved -  lunged - and disappeared, footsteps ripping through the
earth  as he  hit full speed in his first step, blurring and vanishing
from  sight - moving  too fast to see, let alone follow, as the ground
exploded  from charged,  invisible ki blasts that came nowhere near to
hitting.  Chronos howled  in  frustration, letting  loose a  veritable
hailstorm  of  power in  every direction, shredding  the ground in the
blind hope of hitting a target he couldn't see -

"X4 Zero Saber System, access granted..."

To  those who wish  to take my life, come. Come for me; slay me as you
will.  It is of no use to me. Rather, it has been a burden that I have
shouldered for years -

Chronos  turned,  his mouth agape  in surprise  and horror as a shadow
fell over him - the cursed boy had somehow ran up the side of a fence,
leaping  off it, and  was even now descending upon him. Fear - as well
as  a  vehement refusal to accept  the fact that Edge had somehow been
capable  of  the  inhuman  speed  and reflexes  that  the  Avatar  had
demonstrated  -  froze him  in place,  his mouth wide  open in a muted
scream  as  the accursed daikatana flashed  from its saya in a mid-air
battoujutsu stance.

But I would not hand it over to someone like you.

"Shippuuga: Shun. Ten. Satsu."


                                 ~*~

Edge was falling.

The  ground was right beneath his feet, but it didn't prevent him from
plummeting  like  a stone.  At the  moment, he was  less than a ghost,
falling  right through  the floor, only to have another reappear right
beneath  him  in an endless cycle.  The concept would make no sense in
the  real world,  but Edge  was,  in fact,  falling in  a circle;  the
'floors'  that constantly  appeared beneath  him would  eventually run
out,  and  he'd be back  on the very first  one he had started falling
from, only to fall again in a perpetual loop.

He took a step forward, at the same time tapping a key on his PET -

The  falling  stopped. The world around  him, which had been hued with
vibrant  reds and  indigoes of the infrared and ultraviolet spectrums,
suddenly  turned  physical and  corporeal.  Even  though he  had  been
falling   for  what   seemed  like   five  minutes   at  gravitational
acceleration,  there was  no shock to his vertebrae - the feeling was,
instead,  akin to  simply having  jumped down  from the  porch to  the
ground.

TRANSFER COMPLETE. YOU ARE NOW IN SECTOR: AON.

He  was standing just outside his apartment, in the dead of the night.
Here,  his name  wasn't  Edge  anymore, nor  was  he  anything near  a
swordsman.   The  dataslots  had  been  deactivated  -  they  held  no
jurisdiction once he was outside the Fourth Wall. Here, in this world,
he was simply Ishida Yukito, no more, no less.

And he was dead tired.

Yukito  fumbled for his keys in the darkness, located them, and opened
the  locks with a soft click. He didn't bother with the switch. It was
too  dark to  see, but Yukito knew  the apartment like the back of his
hand  - well enough  to turn aside at the fifth step to avoid stepping
on  the fork  he had dropped on  the floor that morning but had yet to
pick up.

"Tadaima,"  he  called out  as  cheerfully  as  he could.  He  snorted
inwardly  even as he called out the greeting. Even if there was anyone
else  besides himself - which there wasn't - they would have long been
fast  asleep  at this ungodly hour.  He tore off the Velcro that bound
the  PET to his  left wrist, put his hat aside, and, with some measure
of  reluctance, turned  his attention to the manila folder in his hand
that  Alyss had  handed  him before  he  had been  ported  out of  the
Aniverse.

"What's this?" he had asked suspiciously.

"They're  the  profiles of your  teammates." Alyss stared pointedly at
him. "I know you're not going to like this, so use the night to have a
good  look  through  them  before  you're  introduced  to  each  other
tomorrow."

"What teammates?" Edge snarled.

"Starting tomorrow, you won't be working alone anymore," Alyss replied
crisply.  "S.H.O.D.A.N.'s  decided  that  we can  save  resources  and
improve  efficiency  by assigning dedicated teams to enforce allocated
sectors  instead  of  calling  on  freelancers  like  you  every  time
something crops up."

"I work alone. I thought we'd agreed on that."

"I  know it's a lame excuse, but it wasn't my decision, Yukito." Alyss
looked  at him pleadingly. "They're talented operatives. At least give
them a chance."

"Don't call me Yukito," Edge snapped, irritated.

"Great!"  Alyss smiled.  "In fact,  they've all  arrived at  Tokyo ten
hours  ago  - you'll be  formally introduced to each other tomorrow...
well, today, actually. Don't be late."

"I NEVER SAID I AGREED, DAMMIT."

Yukito  sighed,  tossing the folder  carelessly onto the coffee table.
The  profiles could  wait; he  hadn't realized  it, but  he was  tired
enough  to pass  for a walking corpse. The Avatar plopped himself down
onto the couch, not bothering to change his clothes, and was adjusting
a cushion when his watch beeped.

He looked at it, suddenly noticing that it was 6.30 am in the morning.

Snarling  and muttering  obscenities in every language he knew, Yukito
stalked his way to the balcony, tearing the curtains aside. Tokyo city
lay sleepily beneath him, but, before him, the eastern sky was already
tinged  with the slightest hint of reddish pink. His pseudo-reflection
in  the  glass of  the  sliding  doors stared  back  at  him -  fiery,
bloodsoaked,  crimson  eyes that seemed  chillingly alien even to him.
Coal-black  rings hung  beneath his eyes, almost as he had painted his
own  face with soot. For a moment, he wondered Chronos had seen in his
eyes  as he had  sliced the Musk warrior in two with a single sweep of
his  daikatana,  the halves of the  mangled body falling apart as they
dropped to the ground in a gruesomely blood-spattered mess -

He  clenched  his  jaw,  tearing  away  from  the  sight  of  his  own
reflection, purging the thoughts from his mind with an effort borne of
discipline and strength of will.

There  was  something  he  should've remembered,  something  of  vital
importance,  but he  was far  too  groggy to  rack his  brains at  the
moment,  as he  went about the task of getting himself presentable and
prepared for school. It had been another sleepless night, Yukito noted
gloomily.  Thursday morning - and this had already been the third time
this week so far.


                                 ~*~

"I can't really  remember when they discovered the Fourth Wall, but it
wasn't  that long  ago - two years, perhaps, or three. The finding was
hailed  as one  of the  greatest discovery  in physics  since Einstein
proposed  the Theory  of Relativity,  and has,  by itself,  sparked an
entirely  new branch  of mathematics  and physics.  It also  created a
worldwide  craze  - at least, it  would have, if the findings had been
publicized. I have no difficulty imagining that it would have made the
man who discovered it (I don't know his name, by the way) a well-known
a household name as Einstein was."

"Perhaps I should  explain  what the  Fourth Wall  is.  It's simply  a
metaphysical barrier of sorts - the fabric of reality that shields our
world from others. And beyond that wall were other worlds. Worlds that
have long existed in fantasy, and were thought as only that - fantasy.
Worlds  that we have created simply by the act of imagining it. Beyond
the  Fourth Wall,  each separated and isolated in its own sector, were
worlds  of anime  and manga. Take Neon Genesis Evangelion - its sector
code  is Gamma  9. Manipulate the Fourth Wall correctly - even a small
child  is  capable of it,  if only they are  able to shape the correct
thought - and you could very well find yourself in NERV headquarters."

"I know. You think I'm crazy. But just bear with me."

"We - the select  few of us that knew of it, anyway - were gods of the
Aniverse, in the sense that the Fourth Wall was simply a collection of
mathematical  formulae  that could  be manipulated  and applied at our
whim.  We  could theoretically make ourselves stronger, faster, change
our  physical  appearances, create  and erase memories, summon various
technological  and organic constructs - anything we wished, if only we
knew  how. S.H.O.D.A.N.  was the agency set up to research Fourth Wall
anomaly,  and was  so secret that it didn't officially exist. Over the
years, it has played god, monitoring and governing the various sectors
within  the  Aniverse, making  sure that  everything goes according to
order."

"Because it doesn't always does."

"Perhaps you're wondering how I know all of this, if it's all supposed
to  be secret. I don't know all of it. I don't know a whole lot of it.
My  security clearance at S.H.O.D.A.N. is... low. Very low. I only get
to  know  things on  a need-to-know  basis... and  most of the time...
well, I don't need to know."

"I'm an Avatar. That means I'm one of the group of people S.H.O.D.A.N.
calls upon whenever a glitch appears in the systems. From what I hear,
even  S.H.O.D.A.N. scientists still don't know all that much about the
Fourth  Wall, but  apparently they know enough to make superhumans out
of  ordinary people that are sent into the Fourth Wall. Each Avatar is
equipped  with abilities  and weapons of their own choice, all of them
drawn  from various  anime  and  manga worlds.  They  can get  awfully
creative.  I've  seen standard weapons  - most of  us opt for a simple
badass  sword, or DBZ-style ki powers - and then I've seen Avatars who
summon  monsters from a deck of cards, construct AT Fields, manipulate
cyberspace, pilot Gundams - you name it. I usually work alone, though.
I just... don't mix well with other people, let alone work together in
life-and-death  situations. In a nutshell, we police the Fourth Wall -
and make sure the stories go as they are planned."

"In real life, I'm just an ordinary student - no more, no less - otaku
and  part-time  pizza delivery guy.  When I'm  not on Aon (that's what
S.H.O.D.A.N.  calls  this sector,  where the 'real'  Earth is in), I'm
also  a  swords specialist,  and  close  combat and  tactical  warfare
expert.  Every  time you  leave Aon,  there's a  chance you just might
never  come back  - I have my  will written and ready, left in my desk
just in case - but it's a fun job, and it's a really great way to earn
extra  pocket money for a high school student living alone in a rented
apartment."

"My Avatar codename's Edge, by the way."

"Welcome to my world."
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