---

Mich found herself in her room, looking over the largest screen located on her desk littered with unfinished products. Smoke filled the air, another puff filling the empty spaces where oxygen might run too in the immediate area around the woman's computer chair. Her eyes fixated on the current scene at the bar, tonights band running through a sound check of their set for later tonight. The music wasn't necessarily her speed, but she could appreciate their artistry enough, it took guts to perform at the Tori Bar on a Friday, doubly so after only a couple week night gigs. Moving the camera with one of her many cybernetics, the bartenders and wait staff seemed to be having a meeting, or more listening to the band sound check, while testing out new drink specials for the weekend. The head manager of the club, Sae, seemingly knowing Michiko was watching, gave a wave and a wink to the camera, making Mich huff smoke out her nose in amusement. Tsukiyama had hired Sae only a year ago, but the woman proved exceptionally skilled in taking over Tsuki's duties to free up the old lady's schedule. Being quiet about her private life and how she ended up on Tsuki's doorstep had really bothered Mich, the woman had a habit of taking in strays. Though they always seemed to give back to Tsuki tenfold, so she couldn't blame the woman, good help was hard to find in Sakanoshita, doubly so for trustworthy help. It also helped the woman was more than capable of handling herself, a powerful YG holder with the ability of coercion. Mich had originally been slightly adverse to the thought of letting the woman work and manage the bar, but Sae had more than made up for Michiko's doubts a couple times. Tsukiyama also never seemed to ask Sae if she wanted to be apart of the gang strangely enough, whatever they had talked about when she showed up at the bar one morning looking for a job, was enough for Tsuki to not press for such a powerful ability to be apart of the of the gang's arsenal. It wasn't Mich's business anyways, as long as she could be trusted to keep the ship upright, it was good enough for the chrome woman.

Shifting her view below gave her vantage of another camera feed over the fast building line of people waiting to get into the bar. A quick scan over the crowds' faces, coupling with her accessing their pre-registered patron files, or making one for the new customers coming for the first time. Typing on the keyboard in front of her, she quickly had the camera begin taking over the task automatically of scanning the future patrons, cigarette going out as it hung in her mouth. A couple of big red flags popped up here and there, a single thought from Mich sent over the profiles flagging as a precaution to the security team lead Io. The old vet apparently had worked with Tsuki in the early years of her career doing what Michiko could only assume was Special Forces adjacent work. She didn't pry into either of the two's backstory they briefly gave her when Tsuki introduced the old man: not when he came with ten other vets looking for a good full time gig. Behind the cool and friendly exterior, was a man who'd seen more than his fair share of fighting. Mich's memories of the old man absolutely beating the ever living shit out of a patron who touched Sae fluttered through momentarily. The old man sent her a thumbs up message, no doubt having already been briefing the team on what they would be looking out for tonight. The Tori bar policy was anyone's welcome back, but repeat offenders were left with a little more agressive of a reminder why they already had strikes; Tsuki's weird way of trying to create a space for their pocket of Sakanoshita for anyone, even the unsavory to have a safe space. Io and his men did more than his part to uphold this value. By now most people know not to fuck around when Io was around, and not to fuck up a good thing Tsuki had created. She relit her cigarette and pulled up the amount of tickets they'd sold for tonights special admission only show, a thousand people was just a hundred people shy of a full house. Die hard fans that the band had no doubt cultivated at the bar. Ashing her cigarette, she waved a hand and the camera feed swapped to the Fujino Motorwrx inner five garage wide auto shop.

Dozens of cars on lifts were further into the shop, with a couple motorcycles littered through out. They were definitely packed for the rest of this month. Mich spotted a car even their master mechanic, Jeri Valentinez (JV for short), had needed her help on at the beginning of the month, still lifted in the air. Jeri angrily stared at something just shy of the middle of the car. The man wasn't much older than her, and had also been a stray Tsuki "adopted" from Heita. They had run into each other before, usually during scrambles to scavenge whatever usable tech that laid in the Neo-Cities dumps, but had never made much conversation before Tsuki asked if she knew any trustworthy mechanics. He had never stole from her, and had even silently helped her in several cases, and had made a rep for helping the many orphans who had either lucked their way into a vehicle or "reappropriated" assets from other districts. He had personally created the group of mechanics that now filled Fujino's huge garage and had become just as much a member of Tsuki's weird family as the others. He was a Zero-Percenter like Mich too: just opting to stay fleshy. Though never outwardly to Michiko, she could feel his confusion on her choice to forego her skin and opt into whatever she was now, but it never bothered her, she understood this wasn't for everyone. An incoming call from Tsukiyama pulled her focus for a second.

Her eyes lit up as she answered. "I take it something didn't go according to plan, considering you're," she pulled up the bike's location, still five minutes out from the Kurotori's building, "Two hours late from when you were suppose to be back." she sat back in her chair watching Tsukiyama and Ren's bike weaving through traffic as she synced up to the local cctv cameras.

"This fucking kid is going to be the death of me I swear..." Tsuki spoke to the small earbud she had in her ear, glancing over her shoulder despite knowing Ren was keeping up. What was suppose to be a simple robbery of a Forgotten Safehouse, quickly turned into firefight and a subsequent Yokai Outbreak from the chaos. She had never seen an outbreak happen so fast, and Ren losing his focus, or rather losing his want to listen to her only made for MORE chaos. An hour job quickly turned into an hour of fighting to get back to their motorcycles and another hour of losing their tail before heading back to their portion of Sakanoshita. She wanted nothing more than throttle her son, but also knew it was part of the deal of taking him along. Why did an outbreak happen so fast anyway, was filling her brain as they pulled into the packed Garage, JV walking over before she came to stop with Ren close behind. Teleporting off her bike, she grabbed Ren by his wrist "Boy, why in gods name can you not just take a second and THINK!" Tsuki raising her voice got most of the workers attentions, prompting JV to clear his throat, making everyone go back to their previous tasks.

"Alright guys, how about we take quick break and clear shop for a couple minutes," JV meeting Ren's eyes and shaking his head, no doubt leaving him out to dry on his own this time. Ren rolled his eyes at JV in response. The other mechanics followed JV into the break area that they shared with the club, leaving Ren to contend with a pissed off surrogate mom. Michiko had already turned off her monitors, unhooking the tube that was feeding her the YoJuice that powered her fuel cells. A way to not have to waste Fuel Cells while in her room and doing one of the many jobs Tsuki had tasked her with. Stepping over more unfinished projects, she placed a hand on the stone wall of her room and a panel popped free, sliding to the side and revealing seven full fuel rods. Pulling one out and quickly plunging it into her chest with a twist, she turned on her heels, finishing her cigarette and tossing it on top of an ashtray in dear need of being emptied of butts. JV sent a message that came up in her vision as floating text box.

"Tsuki and Ren are fighting aga-"

"I'm already on my way, just stay out of the garage for now." She responded, having left her room and already in the elevator heading down to the Garage. Another cigarette already lit, dragging hard was the only indicator on the woman's face of the stress of having to keep Tsuki from destroying any of the cars that may lay in her warpath to discipline Ren.

---

"It wasn't my fault! Actually, you should be thanking me! I saved your ass!" Ren protested against Tsuki's frustration with aggression of his own, his ragged, sandpapery voice barking out protest. His wings flared out behind him, and Little Orochi swayed from side to side, a low hiss escaping its reptillian mouth. "I knew that shit was gonna go crazy, so I struck first and I dealt with it!" He tugged his wrist free of Tsuki's grasp, cloven hooves clopping a few feet back across the concrete floor of the garage. He pointed a claw at her and snarled, then frowned, and dropped his arm to his side. Sighing, he said, "I'm only doing what I think is best." He ran dark claws through his fiery hair. "Does that even compute for you? I'm not just fucking around! This is serious shit, and I take it seriously." Just like that, the aggression resurged, though in tones more muted than before. Little Orochi had grown quiet, but stared at Tsuki with a piercing, imperceptible gaze. Perhaps it wondered: what did Tsuki think Ren was trying to accomplish?

Tsuki remained steel faced in Ren's response, though beneath the surface of her subdued emotions, raged a swirling mix of anxiety and sadness for what their relationship had turned into in the last five years. Taking a step, she once again appeared next to Ren. "Ren, since you were a child that needed me to blow on food that was too hot for you, to now, I have never doubted what you were capable of. But this is a bigger issue than you just jumping into action without truly thinking bigger than the moment." She grabbed his wrist again, gentler than before. Turning his palms up, she dropped nine bullets in them and closed his fingers around them. "These were aimed for your head. Nine times, you were so focused on priortizing my safety, you put yourself at risk. Do you think I ne-" Tsuki took a second to think and breath, changing her approach. "My Son, when you are on a mission with any one of our gang members, you HAVE to have faith that they'll take care of themselves in moments like those. It's not your job to play boy savior, even if it feels like you absolutely need to, and certainly not when you're surrounded by more than ten people. Assess your teammates capabilities, plan according to their percieved strengths and weaknesses, and above all have faith that every teammate can hold their own if they agreed to go on the mission." She let go and sighed, her eyes the only thing telling Ren her anger with his actions was more than just professional. Though before Tsuki could say more, Michiko and JV both came back to check on the state of things. There never seemed to be a time anymore for Tsuki to tell Ren her true feelings, and the call reaching Tsukiyama was further evidence the universe had no interest in helping their mother-son relationship rekindle for the time being. "We'll finish this conversation later, get everyone rounded up in the brief room and prepare to explain why we only have partial information on the job we have coming up" Tsuki looking at her son with mixed emotions before teleporting into her office to take the call.

Ren stared at the empty space where Tsuki had just been, nostrils flaring. He didn't even get a word in edgewise! And "later?" Oh boy. He simply couldn't wait for that mystical hour, after all of these years, to finally arrive! She was his mom, what the fuck else was he supposed to do if not look after her?

Mich's outstretched hand was met with cash that was tucked into the pocket of her hoodie vest, JV sucking air through his teeth and calling out to the other mechanics that break time was up. The chrome body girl tilted her head for Ren to follow her as she turned on her heels and spoke, "Wanna talk about it or just brood with your tail?" Half in jest to ease Ren's agitation, and half a genuine question.

At Mich's remark, Ren's head lolled in her direction. His serpentine eyes fixated on her own as they narrowed. Then he grinned lazily, revealing twin rows of sharp teeth. His forked tongue flicked in and out of his mouth as he barked a laugh, somewhat forced but good-natured in intention. He clopped up in a hurry to reach Mich's side, then moved along beside her at an easy pace. "Sweet of you to worry about me," He teased cheerily, rapping a knuckle against her plated shoulder. "It's almost like there's a real girl in there somewhere."

"Forget I asked." Mich said, shooting him a middle finger with what equated to a smile from the woman. Passing through the breakroom to the hallway and reaching the elevator, she called the elevator and gave the man a once over, if only just slightly worried for his wellbeing based on the small interaction she caught at the tail end of the two's conversation. "You do realize Ma is a retired soldier right? What got you so spooked, you think Tsuki wouldn't be able to handle getting caught up in a trap?" She never choose sides in their arguments, learning very earily on into living with the two, that it was better to ask questions, than volunteer her opinion on either of their actions.

At Mich's question, Ren looked down at the Little Orochi, who merely peered back at him passively. "I- Uh, I don't know. I was following my instincts, Mich. And she made me second in command for a reason. If she can't respect that I know what I'm doing then..." He trailed off aggravetedly, realizing his fist was still closed around those nine bullets. His temple throbbed. He didn't have a pile of munitions to dump into her hands, because he was more focused on dealing with the problem than preparing a teachable moment for once the fight was done. The bullets dropped from his fist and clinked onto the floor one by one. Every part of Ren's body was pressing him to turn back the way he had come, hop onto his motorcycle and buzz off to Little Paris or the Ultraviolet Quarter or the tunnels beneath Rictor Station. Anywhere that wasn't here. Instead he followed Mich into the elevator with a resigned groan. "So- You dating anyone yet?" It wasn't a serious question, not really. Ren was pretty sure he knew what the answer would be, but if it got them off the topic of Tsuki he might say just about anything at this point.

Mich's eyes glowed for a second, the elevator going further down despite no button presenting the option for a basement. Ren and Tsuki's relationship was wholly different from Mich and Tsuki, she also viewed the woman as a surrogate mother, and she understood what Ren was feeling, but she learned within the first two years of living with them that Tsuki never let her guard down, if only to create teachable moments. She reached to grab his shoulder as reassurance, until of course Ren ruined the moment. Instead, she opted to swat the back of his head. "Yeah because my jobs here give me so much free time to jump into the dating cesspool of Sakano. Is this your way of asking me out again?" She elbowed Ren in the ribs teasingly. Two years ago, Ren had seemed to work up the courage to ask Michiko out, to which he was unfortunately met with uncontrollable laughter from Michiko. It wasn't until she saw how disappointed and hurt Ren was after she wiped tears from her eyes, that she realized he was being serious. They had moved past it largely, if not for Mich never really talking about it. Michiko wasn't lying when she made the joke about free time, and besides the fact that they basically grew up together as adopted sibilings, Mich hadn't really had the chance to think about it. Didn't want to was probably more of truth of the matter. Don't break what's working, right?

"Are you- Can we not- No!" Ren sputtered, his gray-skinned cheeks tinging with purple. Mich always had a way of turning things around on him. Her and Tsuki both, it felt like. "One: How many years ago was that? Like three? Four? Two: Fuck you and die. Three: And I stress this one, fuck you and die, please." He folded his arms across his chest, peering at her with an expression almost resembling a pout. "I was just curious." The Little Orochi let out a hiss, and Ren's eyes darted down to it. "Shut up." They really were very different, Ren understood that. He also understood that he didn't really know almost anybody at all. Getting close to people outside the gang wasn't safe.

So yeah, he had shot his shot with the chrome queen herself. Why not?

"We both know, that you know, it was two years ago, and trust me, with the amount of tasks for me to do everyday, my demise is all but sealed and approved by Ma herself, no need for wishful thinking." The elevator doors opened onto their gang's hideout, but Michiko stopped at the threshold before and turned. "And if you're so curious, why don't you grow a pair and just ask me out again so there's no guessing?" Mich's expressionless face workedto hide if this was a joke or not.

Ren stared at her for a moment before rolling his eyes and walking past her out the elevator. "Yeah, right," He said. "Like I'm that dumb." He turned on a hoof and grinned at her, saying in a smug tone, "But if you ever realize you messed up with the only guy that thinks you might have a heart buried somewhere under all that metal, you know where to find me." With that, he strode away from her and into the hideout, calling over his shoulder. "I gotta rally the troops now. Sit tight chrome girl." The Little Orochi stared at Mich in silence as Ren departed.

Mich jokingly threw a finger into her mouth and gagged, following after him. Her eyes, once again showing some type of command given to the building, whirled the various machines to life in the room. Taking a seat in the semi circle booth of couches closest to the projection table they'd be using, she pulled out a freshly packaged box of cigarettes. A quiet pop rang in the air, as she sat back and lit another cigarette. Screens above the table gave her access again to look around the building, as it seemed the club was beginning to let people in for the preshow. "Ma said you guys only got partial intel for the mission, how partial are we talking here?" She wasn't looking at Ren, but she was watching him through one of the various feeds.

Ren went up and down stairs and down hallways, knocking on various doors and calling out, "Meeting in ten in the secret clubhouse lobby! Be there or face the wrath of Tsuki after a mission gone bad! If something's broken, keep it to yourself Frost! If any of you want to break something, keep that to yourselves too! That one's for you Akane! So everyone get your heads in gear, put away the dirty magazines and hurry up!" His charming call to arms sufficiently meted out, Ren returned to Michiko, sliding into the booth next to her. Only after snatching her cigarette out of her mouth and taking a drag from it did he answer her question, his tone sardonic and laced with feigned apathy. "Like fifty percent partial. No biggie though. It's only people's lives at stake, and the great mother bear only holds me one hundred percent responsible. Practically a success." He took a moment then to deflate, stealing the last few minutes he had to lean his shoulder against her own in a rare but not uncharacteristic gesture. Taking a final drag of her cigarette, he held it back up to her lips. In a slightly more dejected tone, he suggested, "We should go for a ride later. You're overworked. I'm sorely understimulated sitting around here. We should do something fun."

A real smile crept along the regularly blank faced woman. She couldn't hide how much she enjoyed riding, especially when it was chasing after Ren through traffic. At the sight of Tsuki walking towards the elevator located in her office, the smile quickly faded. "As much as I would love to, I don't think mother bear is going to be giving me any free time in the near future." It was one of Tsukiyama's tells Michiko picked up on these last ten years: opting to walk anywhere for the woman meant she needed time to think. And if Tsuki was thinking, it no doubt involved needing Mich for something. A deep drag finished the rest of the cigarette, Mich squishing the butt into the ashtray that sat next to her, this one also crying to be emptied and washed from Michiko's habit. "I'd like that though, honest." It was a rare moment of genuine emotion between the two that seemed to escape them the past couple of weeks.

Ren savored the fleeting contact a moment longer, uncaring that her metallic arm was icy-cool against the unfurred skin of his bicep, or that he had to position himself just-so to avoid her spikes digging into his arm. He looked and acted like an animal sometimes, and she could play the part of a robot pretty damn convincingly. Still, they were both human, and it was nice to be reminded of that fact sometimes. "Rain check then." He pulled away from her slowly, and muttered, "This oughta be good."

---

Tsuki stood still in the elevator, eyes closed, anger radiating through her for completely seperate reasons. She slowed the elevator with her power to give her longer than the thirty seconds it took to travel the five floors down to the hideout.

"Ms. Fujino, why do I find myself regretting my choice on letting you come play to the table?" The man on the phone's most recent statement was the most infuriating of all the conversation. As if he was her handler instead of a partner. The gall of the son of a bitch. It was Tsuki who was regretting deciding to act on her impulse and even open herself and the gang up to this chessboard.

A flash of the Rank 5 outbreak ten years ago that started all of this rang through the black behind her eyes, making Tsuki grab for the wall to her right. Her heart racing for a second before she brought herself off the ledge, she stretched her upper body and began taking deep breaths. So much was at stake and she was holding all the secrets, not wanting to worry the others in case this was all a big nothingburger. The culminated anxiety of a bunch of cynical old timers who happened to learn information they had no business learning, who all seemed to be incapable of letting the knowledge hide away in their mind and not act on what all amounts to a hunch. Tsuki let her power go, the elevator moving back to regular speed. Nonetheless, this is what she made the Kurotori for, the last five years since they had officially started taking jobs and marking their "territory" so to speak. Yet, never had they so outwardly messed with the Forgotten like they had hours earlier. So much so, it reached the ears of the asshole who sent them the job, and resulted in her getting reprimanded like a fucking babe. The doors to the elevator opened to the hideout, Tsuki walking in to see both her "kids" playing nice. At least some of the family seemed to get along most of the time. Tsuki opted to avoid eye contact with Ren out of sake for just being civil now. It's not his fault he wants to protect me. A sort of mantra she chanted in her brain to ice over any flames that still embered.

Mich used Ren's leg to push herself up, squeezing to tickle him playfully. Her vision snapped back to her body as she moved to stand next to Tsuki at the projection table. Still seated, Ren's cheeks colored.

"Do your thing kiddo." Tsuki tossed two small datachips at Mich, who caught them with her right hand, her left touching the table.

---

Michiko closed her eyes, a rainbow loading bar filling the black, before a section of Neo-City seemed to slam down all around her. One of the thousands of songs she had tied to her AkumaDeck's codebreaking minigame sounding meant that she was able to get through the first barrier of the encyptions protecting the two chips. A message box popped up giving her the goal of this specific crafted level: Storm this building and clear all three floors; ten enemies on each floor, with varying levels of resistance. A cheeky good luck punctuated the message before closing and a countdown from ten began. Michiko reached into her hooded vest, finding one of her trusty pistols in their holster. One of her axes also spawned in their holster along her arm, the game setting the rules for Michiko: One gun, one axe, have fun. It was simple enough. Bouncing on her feet and shaking her hands, as soon as the count down finished, she burst into a sprint and jumped through a first floor window, landing on an unsuspecting goon's spine feet first, a satisfying crack ringing out below her as she landed. She dove through a door directly in front of her as bullets rang out from the left of the hallway she had landed in. Three men quickly ran forward, taking cover to the side of the door, guns at the ready as the one in the lead motioned for them to breach the room. A metal hand ripped through the thin concrete wall, Michiko's hand finding the grunt at the back's neck and pulling inward, snapping it against the wall. Mich crashed through the wall into the second grunt, throwing him against the wall, before an axe found it's way into the lead grunt's neck. Michiko blew a loose hair from her face as she ripped her axe free while the three men disintigrated into digital particles. The soldier she initially had landed on crawled slowly towards their gun laying in front of them. A quick shot to the head digitized that grunt too, and a loud "FOUR!" rang out through the building. Michiko sighed, maybe she didn't need to make the game so mentally time consuming. Mich quickly broke into a sprint seeking her next targets-

---

Michiko's eyes fluttered open seconds later, pocketing the chips and her eyes lighting up. The contents of the two chips now presented themselves on the table for Tsuki to parse through. Tsuki teleported a preroll into Michiko's fingers, which looked hungrily for another cigarette as a tax for expending her mental energy. Time dilated in the codebreaking program, but her brain could only take so much thought processing before a blowback like the anxiety she felt creeping at the edge of her fingers. Tsuki winked at the girl. "Come over here my lovely son, I need your eyes for this before the others get here." Michiko, relishing in the reward of one of Tsuki's special cigarettes, quickly found herself eyeing the table and catching site of some horrific photos of a trafficking hub, averting her eyes to spare herself from anger in such a delightful moment.

Ren sighed loudly, pulling his body into a standing position with great effort as he turned up the dramatics to eleven. Clopping over to Tsuki, he snidely said, "Lovely son, huh?" His voice was sand and gravel, the words punctuated by an inhuman, slightly rumbling undertone. He saw Michiko enjoying her well-earned cigaratte out of the corner of his gaze, and privately wished he felt like enough of an asshole to steal it from her. They actually had a nice interaction today though, so no, it was better he let her enjoy herself. Plenty of more time in this day and future ones to piss off the people he cared about.

Speaking of.

"Here I am," He declared, raising his arms and then letting them drop to his sides. His wings briefly fluttered in their retracted state. "What?"

Tsuki sighed with patience even Buddha himself would struggle to find. "If you'd taken the time to even look at the table, you'd understand why I seemed to foolishly ask for your eyes here." Taking a step back and leaning against the railing separating the lowered portion of the floor the wall of screens and projection table called home, Mich, cigarette proudly lit in her mouth, stood next to Ren and started to shift through and throw pictures of dozens of live captured Yokai mixed in with cages of what could only be assumed to be Zero-Percenters. "Now please humour me, without the attitude, and tell me what you and the scaly one think about all these Yokai and Zero-Percenters gathered together could potentially mean." Another one of Tsuki's many lessons starting again.

Ren sighed, a sound mirrored by the hiss coming from the Little Orochi. It stared at Tsuki with beady eyes that gleamed in a near-accusatory fashion. "My tail isn't a fortune cookie, but sure, we'll take a look." Blasé as he acted, the longer Ren looked over the data, the more furrowed his brow became. "Okay. Definitely bears further investigation..."

---

All the while, concert-goers now fully flooded the club, the preshow already raging and the club in full service. Any of the members coming in through the club would have to wade through the ebb and flow of the full house. Customers came to pick up the projects JV had managed to finish for the night. Members who enter through the garage would be met with the hustle and bustle of the crew cleaning up for the night before going into the club to watch the main band play. Some also more than likely would probably be staying in their personal apartments above the club and autoshop. All patrons however, none the wiser that the gang's meeting would be taking place soon.

The knock on Akane's door echoed into an empty room. Ren no doubt had too much on his mind to remember that she had been sent out on a mission... five years of them monitoring every little thing she did, and finally, they had decided to send her off on her own without so much as a hint of monitoring. Letting her loose on a job all her own, with absolutely no idea how it would turn out. They had no idea of knowing if she would get the job done, if she would destroy the equipment she was sent to retrieve, if she would return at all in fact. Or worse... if letting her loose would result in another incident like what happened five years ago...

No news was good news. No major news about major engagements that would have anything to do with her. No news about any major massacres that would have any involvement with the job she was sent on. No news about major Jaeger deployments... And it wasn't as if she would have been taken out, not her. If she had, it would have been news, because she wasn't someone who could simply be... taken out. It would have been some sort of massive scene, and news would have been spread about a major conflict. It would have had to involve the Jaegers somehow and...

Nobody thought like that... nobody was being kept up at night wondering where she was. That was where her mind landed. That was how the world worked, wasn't it? You succeed, or you fail. You live, or you die. You come back, or you don't. If she failed, would there be... disappointment? If she never returned, what would they feel? What did this group feel for her, this collection of creatures who believed they could carve out something better from the filth that was this city... What was, disappointment? She almost forgot, that word, individuality... she couldn't speak it, she didn't know how. What did it mean... each of them thought, differently? This collection of souls, they were not one entity, they each were... different. Would any of them care if she didn't return? If she left to find her own way, would they care... would they prefer it? Would they be angry if she disappeared... Why would they be... angry? What... was disappointment? Why do these connections exist between them... do they exist between them and her? These invisible strings that bind them all together. Did she have strings?

There was no real process to the thoughts in her head. She stood high on a building, staring down over the city below. This jungle of concrete and steel. This... prison.

A click sounded from her armor, as electricity arced across the surface. She was fully recharged. Jumping from location to location took much of her energy. She had to stop from time to time. But it was time to go again. She looked down at the box she held by the handle, then on to the city, spotting the familiar structure, and with a flash that crackled across the sky, she disappeared.

---

As a thunderous bolt of lightning struck the roof of the building, its foundations shuttered and the lights in some rooms flickered. The common areas where people were gathering were reinforced enough that nobody would notice, but in other places that wasn't the case.

She let her thoughts get the better of her, she was thinking too much again... and she had expended every last bit of energy she had into a single jump, and all that energy came crashing down with her. Even as nearby pylons absorbed the electricity, it hadn't been designed for THAT much power, which caused the system to temporarily overload.

If nothing else, this was the surest sign that Akane was back... and was not in a good mood. Not she was alone in having a bad night. Her armor sparked slightly, before much the lights faded. She looked down at her hands, noting whatever electronics her armor had were overloaded and had shut down to prevent damage. The only thing left active was her ability to see through the helmet. As she walked to the elevator, stepping inside once the doors opened, she couldn't help but wonder what use was armor if it could not withstand her power.

The doors eventually opened, and she stepped into the briefing room... she had no idea what was going on... or that something was going on at all. She just had a box to deliver. Unfortunately, it was one box, of the expected two boxes. The good news, was that this one box likely accounted for about eighty percent of the value of what she had been sent to retrieve.

Only other issue was, her blade smelled of blood... which without a doubt, meant someone was dead. And more than likely? A lot of someones were dead.

It had been 3 months, 4 days, 16 hours, 23 minutes, and 22 seconds—23 seconds—since Mumeiki found himself with no choice but to join Tsuki’s group. Technically, he had a choice: return to Ijōna for destruction or align with Tsuki in hopes of finding some semblance of existence. The latter, albeit uncertain, seemed slightly more appealing, though he still had no idea how to navigate this new reality. For his entire 8 years of life, he had adhered strictly to instructions. Now, an eerie silence reigned. No directives, no parameters, no one to dictate his behavior. Just his existence among people in situations both similar and vastly different, depending on how one looked at it.

Perched on the edge of a chair in the center of his assigned room—what passed for home, though he struggled to grasp the concept—Mumeiki pondered his existence. This space, a mere room, was where he stored himself when not in use. It was a place defined by its functionality, devoid of any warmth or familiarity. Tsuki had conversed with him when she could, taking the time to engage in dialogue, although their exchanges were mostly one-sided. Mumeiki had cautiously deemed Tsuki 'safe' for the moment. She hadn't displayed any active intention to dismantle him, at least as far as he could discern.

Ren’s shout abruptly interrupted his contemplations. Mumeiki’s auditory sensors locked onto the source, capturing every nuance of Ren’s voice as orders were issued. It wasn't until the sharp rapping of Ren's knuckles on his door that Mumeiki realized he was included in the directive.

Mission Parameters Updated:

Mumeiki’s response was immediate and precise. He stood swiftly, the chair scraping lightly against the floor as he pushed it under the desk. His sensors scanned the room with rapid efficiency, searching for any offensive magazines. He found none. The task was completed in a few seconds, enough time for Ren to leave and head back to the meeting.

// Store Filthy Media - Complete

He grabbed the door handle with a firm grip, the cool metal grounding him for a fleeting moment. As he slid the door open, he moved with a fluidity that belied his mechanical nature. In the blink of an eye, he vanished beyond the threshold, leaving the decisive click of the closing door to echo in the stillness behind him. Had anyone been watching, it would have appeared as though he had evaporated into thin air, leaving only a whisper of movement in his wake.

Mumeiki's form became a mere blur as he streaked down the corridor, his speed defying the limits of human perception. Each step was a calculated motion, designed to avoid obstacles with effortless precision. The walls and furnishings seemed to melt away before him, making way for his rapid advance. It was as if time itself slowed down for everything but him, granting him an ethereal swiftness that bordered on the supernatural.

The corridor, usually a mundane passageway, transformed into a dynamic arena where Mumeiki’s every move was a testament to his extraordinary capabilities. Lights flickered and shadows danced as he propelled himself forward, his focus unwavering. The distance to the Clubhouse lobby shrank in an instant, his journey a marvel of kinetic energy and sheer determination.

// Speed is Priority - Complete

As he arrived, he stood, a silent sentinel, at the back of the room. His presence was a quiet affirmation of his compliance. Being there meant he could hear and be heard, see and be seen. Every sensory input was meticulously cataloged, each interaction meticulously analyzed. The ambient chatter of those around him was a constant reminder of the human element he now found himself amidst.

His optic scanned the room, taking in the various faces and expressions. Some were deep in conversation, others seemed lost in thought. The atmosphere was a blend of anticipation and tension, a prelude to whatever instructions would follow. Mumeiki's presence, though unobtrusive, was a testament to his unwavering dedication to his mission parameters.

From here, he could monitor the entire room, analyzing body language, listening for cues, and preparing to respond if necessary. He remained focused and ready, embodying the role of an observer and participant in equal measure.

// Attend the Meeting - Complete

The warehouse's dim lighting flickered, the shoddy light revealing stray whisps of smoke and dust that never seemed to go away. Open spaces, floor to ceiling shelves with spotty coverage, an overarching catwalk and lack of windows made the place darker than it should've been. In a small clearing, a hulking shade stood over another tied to a chair, a pair of other shadows stood just behind the larger one- all three standing silhouettes sporting rifles of some sort. The two standing seemed to be having idle conversation as the larger shadow appeared to be in the middle of an interrogation.

The sounds of soft footsteps on the other side of the door went unnoticed by all but the sharpest ears, though the silence didn't remain for long.

"Breach! Breach!"

There was a short hiss, followed by an explosion as the doors suddenly flung open. There was a quiet quartet of thumps as suppressed weapons fired, the two smaller gunmen falling immediately, one of their weapons rattling off loudly as the man held the trigger down as he fell, the metallic sounds of richochets bouncing across the open space. The large hulking would-be-interrogator immediately turned to face the incoming threat, picking the victim up out of his chair and using him as a human shield.

"Drop it! Drop the weapon!" one of the breachers barked as four of them quickly poured into the room, spreading out to clear the rest of the room and look for angles.

"Fuck you!" The hulk snarled back at them, body armor and deep green jacket glinting in the light of flashlights. The hulk had a gun pressed to the hostage's temple, pulling the two back towards the wall as he was used as a human shield.

"Gun! Gun!"
"No! Wait!"

One of the breachers fired a burst of shots. The first hit the hostage square in the chest, the second nailed him in the neck, while the third hit the hulk square in the forehead. Both figures collapsed to the ground in the corner of the room as the riflemen glanced at each other and gathered closer to the pair of bodies in the corner.

"Shit... Is it done?"

As the Hulk's body hit the floor, the VIP groaning in pain. The breachers let out a sigh of relief, the VIP was still alive. Two of the gunners grabbed the hostage and pulled him up, wrenching him out of the grip of the big hulk. As the arm holding the hostage fell into view, a metal ball rolling out of the hulk's hand. A metallic spoon flung out of its place and clattered on the ground a short ways away.

"Fuck! Grenade!"

The shooter dove for the grenade, throwing it under her body as the entry man grabbed and dove over the VIP, the other two taking cover as they ducked.

"Stop." The hulk growled, her eyes flickering open as she gruffly pulled herself to her feet. "Reset."

Bright ceiling lights flickered on and the hologram faded away, replacing the warehouse with wooden boxes and plywood walls, the breachers with their blue training rifles lowering them as Io stood up and wiped the paint off of his neck and chest. Paint or not, he didn't seem too happy about being shot in the throat. Frost looked equally unhappy, though perhaps for different reasons.

"I see a significant problem here. Anyone care to enlighten me on what that problem was?" Frost's voice was a heavily accented growl, like sandpaper on gravel, a deep bass that rumbled the floor. "Lin? Any guess?"

"I... I Shot the hostage in the throat." The man replied sheepishly, even beneath his balaclava and goggles one could sense the nervous sweat in the man.

"Yes. You shot Chief in the throat." Frost sighed expressively, her eyes shrouded by her hand rubbing her temples. "If you don't have a shot, don't take it. Very simple. If you're shooting, stay calm. Otherwise, open up angles for other shooters. Next. Tori, what the fuck was that?" Frost continued as she glanced down at the woman laying on top of the training grenade. "You no longer have an abdomen. Explain."

"What? I was trying to save my team!" The woman shot back indignantly as she stood up, glancing down at her torso covered in blue paint.

"Sure, great heroics you can tell the boys over a drink at the-oh wait, you're dead." Frost rolled her eyes, shooting a practice round into Tori's chest for good measure. "You're not SWAT, you're not Jaeger- hell, even Jaeger doesn't do that. Leave the movie theatrics to the movies. If a body drops a grenade, roll the body onto it. Otherwise, dive and go low. Armor should only have to take a couple bits of frag if you're lucky."

Frost paused as she glanced her phone buzzed and she glanced over at it- footage of Ren at her door banging on it and yelling for a meeting. She sighed. "Run it again. Io, keep changing up the simulations, no complacency."

---

The others heard Frost approaching the briefing room long before she entered it, ducking down to get beneath the door's threshold as she entered. A few of the others were already there- several more of the 'oddballs' that Tsuki had picked up over the years. Not that Frost was any exception to that. The 2 and a half meter giant stomped over next to where Michiko stood, only pausing long enough to give Mama Tsuki a respectful nod and an "Auntie." as acknowledgement. Stepping over to one of the only sofas in the room rated strong enough to support her weight and frame, Frost casually took a seat, sinking down into it, the durable plastics and metal supports whining as Frost sat.

"Somebody's been busy." Frost noted as she glanced between Tsuki, Ren and Michiko. Pulling a slightly crushed package out of her pocket, Frost tapped the bottom and fished a cigarette out with her lips, leaning over to use the lit end of Michi's like a lighter. Even sitting, she was practically as tall as Michiko was standing. "The new scope you found for the long gun has been working wonders, no more artifacts on higher zoom." Frost commented as she leaned back and took a drag.

"So, what are we looking at?" Frost mused as she glanced over at the displayed images on the projector.

---

---

Shoshiku’s mind was divided into dozens of partitions, the majority of which were in the process of trying to find equations for a number of complex problems. Just as with every other of the thousands of other times the AI had worked on these very problems Shoshiku wasn’t getting anywhere. Unfortunately, the problems they were working on weren’t just complex in a purely mathematical sense – if that were a problem the Shoshiku would surely have long since found a suitable equation for all they’d worked on it. No, the problem was that the questions weren’t particularly mathematical or even completely objective in nature, but rather philosophical.

Of course, just as with almost every other time Shoshiku had tried to figure out a solution for the problems, the knowledge that the equations they were working on were in all likelihood outright incomputable, didn’t stop the AI from trying.

As Shoshiku continued trying to brute force their way towards impossible answers, a small part of their awareness not assigned to working on the problems – a tiny fraction of the AI’s total processing power currently reserved for audio processing – alerted the AI to a potentially important sound, immediately the partition was granted more resources and a fraction of a second later, Shoshiku identified the sound as a match for a familiar voice: Ren.

Immediately, the AI paused the bulk of their calculations, the infinitesimal progress they’d made over the last 6 hours, 14 minutes, and 21 seconds, getting logged to be picked back up later even as another partition had begun the process of reallocating resources and spinning out new operations for the purpose of listening to Ren’s words. By the time Shoshiku was actually capable of processing what was being said, the AI had already missed the first 0.02 seconds of Ren’s message, though it took less than a tenth of that time for the AI to retroactively piece together the missing information from recorded audio, processing the sounds into words and sentences, before dissecting them to extract the meaning behind the Y.S.G’s shouting.

Shoshiku assigned the highest probability to the conclusion that Ren’s announcement was intended to indicate that the Kurotori would be gathering for a formal assembly in 10 minutes time – give or take depending on the intended degree of precision and whether the timer started at the words “in ten” or upon the conclusion of the announcement – though as Ren had seemingly truncated the units away it was also possible that he was instead communicating that the meeting would be in 10 increments of some other unit, like hours or days, or else units of some other measurement, though that would not make sense. If Ren had meant seconds or another unit of time with an increment less than 2.625 seconds long, then that would be a problem as Shoshiku would probably not be able to make it to the secret lobby in time for the meeting.

Alternatively, it was also possible Shoshiku was wrong about the nature of the gathering and that it might have been another type of meeting to which Ren was referring – like an informal gathering of acquaintances or when the clubgoers met with the performers after a performance – but Shoshiku assigned this potential a far lower probability; while that kind of thing did sometimes happen in the club, it had never been announced like this and to Shoshiku’s understanding, it would be bad to hold such meetings in the secret clubhouse lobby.

Moving on to the next component of the announcement, attendance of the meeting was framed as a binary choice, however, rather than one of the options being a simple null option as was often the case, Shoshiku observed that in this instance both decisions implied effects intrinsic to the decisions themselves; in option a) Shoshiku could attend the meeting, having the consequences of changing locations and being subject to the contents of the meeting, while in option b) Shoshiku could skip the meeting and “face the wrath of Tsuki”.

Shoshiku decided this was probably a good binary, as it made the decision easier despite still being rooted in subjective reasoning. The outcomes of attending the meeting were still a mystery for now but presented a low likelihood of exceeding an acceptable threshold of ‘bad’, while the wrath of Tsuki was almost certain to be ‘bad’, making the former the – probably – optimal decision.

Furthermore, given the disparity between the options presented and the history of Ren’s communications, the AI was able to assign a significant likelihood that the choice was not actually a choice, but a ‘rhetorical choice’, further skewing the weighting towards attending the meeting being the better option. This being the case, Shoshiku decided they would go… unless the meeting was in fact starting in the next few seconds in which case they would not be attending.

As for the rest of the message, most of it was seemingly directed at other members of the gang – either explicitly so or else so obviously that even the socially oblivious AI was able to pick up on it – with only the final line being potentially applicable, if by Shoshiku’s estimate, also somewhat likely to either be rhetorical or metaphorical in nature.

As far as Shoshiku understood things, the space to which they’d been assigned was not dirty – to their knowledge the room would rank somewhere between what would be contextually considered acceptable for a living space and a hospital in terms of contamination, meeting the standards of the former, but not the latter. On the other hand, the AI had also been informed that the space was ‘messy’ – which to Shoshiku’s understanding held similar connotations as ‘dirty’ to many people, despite the words holding different meanings.

The realisation of this potential distinction presented something of a dilemma in the AI’s mind as Shoshiku realised they might not be able to accurately identify or distinguish a dirty or messy magazine, but after a moment they dismissed to concern, filing away as another problem to process later. Whatever the case, to the best of Shoshiku’s knowledge, they lacked possession of any magazines – messy or otherwise – and the chances they were wrong about that seemed insignificant enough to warrant ignoring, so the distinction would not be required to fulfil the potentially rhetorical request.

Decisions made, the AI once again redistributed its processing power, loading up and operating countless dozens of operations. For the first time in hours, the girl who'd been lying nearly motionless on the bed in Shoshiku's room began to stir to a degree beyond simply breathing.

Shoshiku registered that the chemical cocktail used to put their host to sleep would likely not be fully worked out of their host’s body for about another hour but assessed that this was fine. The host had already gotten around about 6 hours of sleep, which would be sufficient to maintain her body’s physical functions if not quite sufficient for optimal brain function.

As long as the girl wasn’t startled, there was a decent chance she wouldn’t wake up at all until after the drugs had mostly run their course. On the other hand, in the event that something happened, and the girl woke up before then, while this would be suboptimal, such a complication would not rise to the point of being ‘bad’ as Shoshiku understood things.

Without any external warning, the girl’s limbs unceremoniously jerked into motion, muscles efficiently pulling her up and out of bed and onto her feet, the motions an unsettling combination of jerky stuttering and too-smooth fluidity. Her artificial eyes stared dead ahead as she approached the door, a gaze only broken once she stepped out into the adjoining hallway, and even then, only to briefly flicker towards objects of interest every few moments for the AI operating them to log.

Shoshiku didn’t strictly need to head to the meeting place quite yet. Extrapolating from previous traversal, the AI assessed that the chances it would take longer than 5 minutes to reach the meeting room were infinitesimally small, with any complications that might cause such a delay being likely to supersede the importance of the meeting itself. Even so, the AI pressed on, its decision having already been made: the cost of leaving and potentially arriving early was low enough to justify the benefits thereof.

Arriving near the meeting place Shoshiku positioned their host to observe before slumping her body against a wall, waiting to see if any other gang members would arrive so their entrances could be observed. While the AI didn’t exactly understand the connotations, they had learned that there were certain rituals and procedures that were supposed to be followed upon entering a meeting – of any type – and that failure to abide by these rules was often considered either embarrassing or rude – both of which were somehow undesirable outcomes.

---

Tsuki was always proud of her surrogate child's ability to observe, she figured a lot of it had stemmed from having to basically survive in a figurative "land of giants", at his age. A memory surfaced of what she had been like at his age and she silently thanked the gods as she watched Ren work out what she and the "others" had surmised. Of course nothing was guaranteed but Ren's correct assessment with no prior knowledge about how weird the "cargo" they were storing away, was worrying Tsuki enough that she felt like maybe, just maybe, there really was something deeper happening with the Forgotten. However before Tsuki, could praise him, the other gang members began filing in, quite the colorful group she had collected over the last five years, but the correct group to trust her back too.

Akane had been first to enter, despite not being present for the call to meet, and had successfully retrieved one of the two shipments that the Autoshop had reported as a no show. She figured someone up the delivery chain got a bit handsy and originally she was going to handle it. But Mich's insistence, coupled with reassurance from Ren that he would handle any potential...mishaps was enough for Tsukiyama to let Akane go on her first solo mission. Though she neglected to let the fox eared woman know that the shipments had been insured and were already in route to the Kurotori building. Or the fact that it really was to send a message to any other potentially grubby handed imports manager to stay the fuck away from shit with the Kurotori's name on it. The iron smell wafting off her blade, was confirmation enough that Tsuki choose the better option in not telling her, heavens only know what phone calls she would be getting otherwise. A glance to Mich, who quickly did a scan of the local Jaeger Radio Frequency, coupled with only a message on the Sakanoshita 5 News network displaying that some type of electrical explosion had happened in Sector 5 of the District, exactly where the shipments had been tracked too. Mich's thumbs up, made Tsuki sigh with relief, and snap, teleporting the box into the Garage where JV would catalogue and put away the now extra parts they had "rescued". Tsuki motioned for Akane to come closer to the table "I'm excited to hear what's become of the people brave enough to steal from me, but it'll have to be later, we're having a meeting in a few, just hang out for now". Out of everyone, Akane's relationship with Tsuki seemed to puzzle her the most. The fox woman could very easily be more than what Ren bargained for when he brought her home all those years ago, but she seemed to respect the old lady despite her loose cannon attitude and Tsukiyama certainly wasn't in the business of breaking what doesn't need fixing.

Quickly filing in after Akane, was Mumeiki, thought Tsuki had figured he would've been the first to show, given his attitude towards the gang. Even with Mich spending time to try and figure out, and help Mumeiki though the transition of "Freedom", Tsuki couldn't help but feel like the man was still following some level of command and was incapable of perceiving what he had as free will. Doubly so when Ren would absent mildly talk in hyperbole to the metal man. On multiple occasions, despite him being with the group the shortest amount of time, Tsuki was mystified in Mumeiki's absolute command following. No amount of explanation seemed to help so far, and Michiko was under the impression that he might still actually be locked behind a command from before Tsuki and Company had trapped him. Though she had prefaced all of this without having, or rather, not wanting to pry into the mans mind and body without his explicit permission. Some weird sense of Zero-Percenter comradery, or at least that's what Tsuki read between the lines on why Mich hadn't just opted too jump into Mumeiki's mind yet, despite the several months he had been working with them. She opted to give the man a smile and motion for him to get a bit closer as more would show up.

Frost's nonchalant behavior was refreshing to say the least, the huge woman reminding her of the "family" she was forced to leave ten years ago. She did miss it occasionally, not the Government bullshit, but the seemingly life long comrades she had fought and survived with for most of her life. She missed not having to be responsible for anything other than her squamate's and students. Now she couldn't go more than a day before something required her attention, even with the help she had brought in. Without them and Michiko? Tsuki shivered at the prospect of having to run the WHOLE operation herself again. When Frost had appeared with the other Jaeger's sent to kill her, it sort of sparked the idea that maybe it was time to expand her employee base, especially if the JF was breaking their deal and hunting her again. She winked at the woman in reply, before Michiko sat on the arm of the chair, bringing her legs up to her chest and resting her head on her knees, the preroll Tsuki had given her, hitting her like a ten ton truck.

"I was worried when I saw how cheap they were selling it for, but I'm glad, come by room sometime later, I have more things I need you to try out for me" she stretched her upper body and sat back, propping her elbow, and by proxy, her head that came to rest on an open palm, on Frost's shoulder. Retracting the spikes up and down her body so they wouldn't poke the huge woman. Out of all the new gang members that had joined since Tsuki officially started operating under the Kurotori, Frost had been one of her favorite. She didn't seem to care that Mich was a chrome body, or that Mich had been exceptionally smaller then herself. And Frost love for guns had been a happy bonus that satisfied Mich's third qualifier for a potentially good friend. "Mama and Boy Wonder recovered some information on some...weird irregularities in two of the main Forgotten Trafficking Hubs, though I think Ma is holding out until everyone gets here" a subtle nod from Tsuki at the projection table confirmed Mich's assumption. "Oh and our Lieutenant here, from what I can gather, failed one of the infamous "Tsuki Stress Tests" but he was being broody about it so I'd leave that one alone" saying the last part a little quieter with a teasing smile, knowing full well that Ren could still probably hear her.

Tsuki sighed at the mention of the earlier argument that Ren and her seemed to closest right now, worried it might spark another argument but Shoshiku entering very quickly shifted her mind away from the comment, hoping Ren would follow suit. Shoshiku, much like Mumeiki and Michiko, was a testament to the horrifying capabilities of their day and age. When Mich had found the similarly tiny woman, and explained roughly what she was to Tsuki, Tsuki had figured Michiko joking. Just twenty years ago, someone like Shoshiku wouldn't have been as "functional" as she was. It would have been something not too dissimilar from Science Fiction, but there were moments when the woman's movements would remind Tsuki, she wasn't all just "herself". Mich offered a wave to Shoshiku to come sit with Frost and her on the enormous couch, no doubt Mich picking up that it would probably be easier for the little woman's body to take the stress of her body. The two had spent a lot of the previous missions together in the Van that Tsuki had bought for them both to use as a base out on missions. Though Tsuki hadn't been able to ask how that had been going in some time, and Mich never opted to bring it up in whatever little time the two spent alone together.

A text from Enrique popped up on the projection table for Tsuki to see, apologizing for being late but to start the meeting without them. Tsuki only worried for a moment, before swiping the message away and turning to the Gang.

"I hope everyone was using their free time well, if our Lieutenant and I turn out to be right about our assumption, I don't think we'll have much of it in the near future" turning to the table, she flicked two pictures up marked Site A and Site B:

---

Site A:


Site B:

---

"Im sure you guys know about both these places, they've gained their own infamy for a multitude of reasons, and until today, we had no reason to pay either place a visit. With the help of our lovely resident Metal Girl, we were able to uncover the illegal operations taking place within the Legal businesses Korobei has been operating for several years now" she took a second for everyone to get a chance to read over the various information showing up on the big screen, and the screens hanging in front of the couch Michiko had used earlier. Lighting one of her rolled cigarettes, she continued after a smoke filled exhale "I know I've said to steer clear of the Forgotten's path, save for when absolutely necessary, but that changes starting today. The increase in Zero-Percenters disappearances in the area has been increasing by the day, and while I couldn't act on it without any evidence, and accidently start a Gang War, your Lieutenant and I have a hunch something bigger is happening. We were only able to recover the last six months of the establishments "shipments" that frequently come and go through the day, and The Forgotten seem to be hoarding Zero-Percenter and powerful Yokai "Stock". So much so, they're storing them haphazardly because of the influx of so much stock." She let her words sink in for a second, taking a drag "While Korobei has always dealt in Yokai and Y.G/Y.S.G holders, he always stayed away from Zero-Percenters and Powerful Yokai, the former having little value these days and the latter being more risk than I thought the Forgotten Number 3 would be willing to take on."

She ashed the joint in her hand and teleported the ash to somewhere off in the sky, before swiping on the projection table with her free hand. Partially completed maps that Michiko was able to make from the information kept on the Datashards gave them a rough idea of where too start on both Sites, but once inside both illegal operations, they were going to be mostly blind. "Two missions, both with the same objective, and I dont care if we go in loud or quiet. We'll be looking to locate the Main AkumaServers and gleam any and all data we can get on the two remaining Trafficking Hubs that Korobei operates. I also want to rescue as many of the slaves as they have, save for those who are too far gone. The Yokai are an added bonus, and could easily become the distraction needed to cover our tracks. But above all else, we're going to disrupt and destroy their operations as best we can, Korobei should have never touched the people who've come to rely on the Kurotori, questions or concerns?" she turned to the group, arms crossed, joint in mouth, her eyes reading the group.

While people were still gathering, Akane couldn't help but notice the tension between Ren and Tsuki. She tilted her head at him while he was still looking over the images, asking in the language nobody could understand but Ren... and nobody seemed able to replicate either, "What happened? She is angrier than when I left. Angry... with you?" That seemed to be the case rather often, so it wasn't a difficult conclusion to come to, what with the both of them seeming so on edge.

Whatever his answer, she watched the others gather, those she knew less about. The first was the metal thing. It moved like a person, it spoke like a person, sometimes. Was it... human? She didn't always speak like a person. Was it maybe... no, it was another creation of man, a mixing of flesh and metal and... was there any flesh left in there? She wondered what would happen if she were to shock him with electricity... but she had been told not to do that... the exact words were 'In fact, you probably shouldn't stand too close to him at all'. Given that her body was almost always covered in a layer of unseen electricity, that was probably for the best, but still, not much fun...

Then came the ogre... Oni-Kind as she called her. She hated Oni... dumb creatures, always angry, like her, but unreasonably so. But this one was different, and at the very least, she saw the differences between Yokai and those whose bodies were corrupted by their essence. So her thoughts about 'dumb Oni' were often pushed aside, as she thought this one was not as dumb as an actual Oni, and in fact, was very reliable. She had been told to be nice... so she would be nice. It was easier, because it was not a real Oni. She did not know what respect was, but what she felt was somewhat like that. Even if every time she saw them, the thoughts that first came to mind were never endearing, she fortunately kept them to herself, and forgot them as quick as they came.

And then there was the Ghost in the Shell. She could see it, smell it... there was a ghost in that one's body. The pathetic creature was controlled by it, and it would be a mercy to purge it from her... but her standing orders were simple, if not incredibly limiting. Be nice... and under no circumstances was she to attempt to purge the machine ghost, and again, do not stand too close to her.

Hmm, did that mean the other one was a machine with a human-ghost in it? How was she to understand these creatures of machine-flesh if she was not allowed to electrify them, just a little bit... such an act was prohibited. Unfair... cruel and unusual restrictions... if they could not withstand a little zap, what use were they to this cause?

No matter... Tsuki could keep her... haunted followers.

---

---

Shoshiku entered the room 49 seconds before the meeting was scheduled to start, reasoning based on the observed approaches of the other gang members that entering early was unlikely to be considered rude, and in fact, might even be expected of them by virtue of yet another one of the countless unspoken rules the AI had yet to identify or decipher.

Adjusted their sensory processing Shoshiku took in the clubhouse lobby; the meeting space wasn’t crowded per se, but it was by no means empty either, and there were certainly more than enough people present to produce a constantly changing information landscape. Cybernetic eyes flickered along set paths, pre-calculated to optimise data collection, updating their trajectories every so often as new data was added and accounted for.

Biological eyes didn’t exactly view the world with anything like a framerate, but the same couldn't be said for the majority of optical cybernetics, including the ones through which Shoshiku perceived the world. To any normal person lacking sufficient mental augmentations with which to process the information, the difference may as well be nonexistent for all but the slowest of optics, but for those capable of parsing each and every frame in a fraction of the time it took to receive, the difference became something of a frustrating limitation. Worse still the particular model of cyber-eye the host had installed featured onboard processing and further had to pass through their organic mind before Shoshiku could access it, factors that together introduced a latency to any visual processing the AI received that could sometimes stretch into the hundreds of milliseconds.

To compensate for and mitigate this issue, the AI had needed to fundamentally alter the way they perceived their environment, processing information not as a constant flow of data as would be ideal but in discrete packets from which simulations could be run to infer the missing information.

It was in this way that Shoshiku observed Michiko waving them over – a gesture the AI recognised only for it having been used on and explained to them multiple times in the past, as opposed to any contextual understanding of why the motion meant what it meant.

The AI considered waving back or producing some other such gesticulation, but decided against it after a couple seconds of calculation; Shoshiku estimated a high probability that failing to gesture back would be rude – which would be "bad" – but without adequately understanding the semantics behind the gestures involved, doing so anyway ran the risk of accidentally telling a lie and while the AI knew that a lie was only usually "bad" and could even be "good" given the right context, they also knew that lies could rise to the level of "unforgivably bad" which wasn’t an acceptable risk.

Instead, Shoshiku approached the Zero-Percenter and offered her a verbal greeting in lieu of a somatic one. "Hello, I greet Michiko, intending to not be rude."

With that out of the way, Shoshiku promptly sat their host’s body down on the sofa alongside Michiko and Frost, letting what muscles the action rendered unnecessary go limp immediately after, settling in to wait patiently as the meeting started and the missions were explained.

When Tsuki asked whether anyone had any questions Shoshiku simply gave a slight nod of their head, which meant yes.

They had lots of questions and concerns, including some new ones about both the missions that had just been explained. Shoshiku calculated a decent probability of it being these questions that Tsuki was actually asking for, but at the same time, the AI had also heard it was bad to answer questions with questions and they'd been assured the Kurotori wouldn't ask them to do bad things, so probably not.

---

"More goodies for me? You shouldn't have." Frost chuckled quietly, one of the horns on the side of her head lightly tapping at Michi's. Frost frowned as Michiko spoke, finding herself reminiscing about one of the tests Tsuki had put her through when she first joined. A trial of Frost's patience- and she was never particularly good at sitting still, even years later. Ren never struck Frost as particularly patient either, so she wasn't entirely surprised he'd failed. In some ways, being part of Tsuki's gang meant more stringent rules than when she was a part of the Jaegers. "To be fair, the stress tests are... stressful." Frost murmured in quiet agreement.

For someone in a leadership role, Ren was a bit more hotheaded than Frost might've preferred, but she'd learned long before joining the Kurotori that questioning Tsuki's methods didn't typically fare well. A bit like her, Ren trended towards reckless and forward- a bit like a bull in a china shop. To be fair, Frost was not much better, and it wouldn't have been a problem if he was just one of the guys, but he wasn't just one of the guys- he held a position of leadership, which meant Frost expected more of him than Akane or Enrique. Still, Tsuki saw something in him, which meant there probably was- so Frost left well enough alone.

Shoshiku was a strange one, the large woman glancing over at the smaller figure as she- it? sat down next to her. Frost couldn't help but feel uncomfortable around Shoshiku- not because of anything they did themselves, just the thought of the woman sitting next to her not really being the girl, but rather a construct piloting her body. It gave her the shivers more often than not- how someone more human looking than someone like Mumeiki was somehow less at the same time. At least Mumeiki, for all his oddities, was relatively more easy to understand. Mumeki felt closer to human than the other one too- the personified lightning bolt they liked to call Akane. The armored shogun was somehow both more human and less human than the two 0-Percenters combined. Frost was almost certain the woman was actually an alien- and had disclosed such suspicions to Michiko on more than one occasion.

Frost couldn't complain too much- she was hardly the spitting image of a typical herself, the reinforced couch creaking and groaning in pain underneath them as the large woman readjusted her weight. She really had no room to be judging the others as normal or weird. Tsuki seemed to have a taste for bringing into her gang the weird ones of society, which meant Frost, by extension, was also a weirdo. Frost sighed. It was times like this when she missed having Enrique around.

The briefing itself wasn't too out of the ordinary: a pair of targets, smash and grab, torch the operations. This wouldn't have been the first time Frost clashed with the Korobei- either hunting them as a Jaeger, or knocking heads with gangsters in an alley outside a club. Frost never had a particularly high opinion of the Korobei, so she was more than happy to go knocking some heads in.

"Both sites are fairly large, extensive. Do we have enough manpower for two simultaneous hits?" Frost asked aloud as she leaned forward, getting a closer look at the projections. "They're far enough away that if one group gets into trouble, the other won't easily be able to provide backup. A lot of innocents to potentially get caught up in the crossfire as well."

"I don't imagine Korobei will just sit idly by once we start hitting the sites either- probably expect more goons to get in behind us after we start, so we'll want some sort of eyes on the outside once we go in." Frost's eyes flashed as she glanced over at the Losseum again. It was a bit of a guilty pleasure, but she liked watching the gladiator fights from time to time whenever someone managed to acquire a copy of one of the fights. Almost a shame they had to shut it down- Almost.

"How are we splitting?"