Somewhere far, far away...

"Shao mai! Six hundred credits for shao mai!" the hawker called out. "Shrimp fresh from the gulf, all the way from the coast!"

A young man in an olive military uniform strolled through the indoor market with a paper bag in hand. The crowd moved around him, a mass of bodies that parted and reformed as they flowed. His green hair and tanned, Nahuatl features blended in seamlessly, but the uniform, that was another matter. The people moved aside for him, giving him a wide berth.

"Xiao Su!" The old man shouted with a smile as he approached. "The uniform suits you! An escort mission, as your mother informed me?"

Montezuma smiled back awkwardly at the nickname. "Yes... well. It was a difficult task. Captain Ouyang was pleased. It has been difficult for us all."

"Ha!" The old man snorted. "That is good! Your mother is a proud woman, and she will not rest until all is well!"

Montezuma nodded his head. The man had a point, his mother had always been a strong, stubborn woman.

"Are those fresh tamales?" Montezuma asked, eyeing the large pot the man had next to him him.

"Yes, they are! Freshly made this morning! Six for two hundred credits!"

Montezuma's stomach grumbled, and he nodded. "I'll take three orders."

The hawker reached into the pot and scooped out a bundle of the tamales.

"How about some phoenix claws? Only seven hundred credits each!"

Montezuma chuckled.

"Just the tamales, thank you."

"Alright, alright. Here you go!"

Montezuma took the tamales, and then reached into his pocket for his phone.

"Here you go, Uncle Wu."

"Thank you," the old man replied. He gave a quick bow and continued on his way. "Come back soon, Xiao Su! You're always welcome in my shop!"

"I'll be back soon, I promise!"

Montezuma waved to the old man as walked off, and then looked at his wristwatch. 5:16. His train would arrive at the station at 5:30.

Montezuma looked back up, to where the sun hung low on the horizon, just above the city skyline.

His hometown of New Teotihuacan had always been a massive technological hub. The Aztlan Confederacy was a... well, a Confederacy. A series of independent city states bound together in a mutual pact of self-defense and economic cooperation, and each of those city-states had their own character and style.

The capital, New Teotihuacan, had been designed from the ground up as a planned utopia, an ecologically sustainable city that would have made the ancient Maya or Inca proud It was a massive metropolis with over five million people living in its urban sprawl, with towering arcologies and a massive network of high-speed rail and public transportation, along with vertical farms, automated factories, and massive industrial parks. It had been a marvel of modern technology and urban engineering.

Montezuma had always heard about its counterpart across the portals growing up — a sprawl that was just as advanced in its own way. In many ways, the people of Earth were more advanced than their Terran counterparts, and their culture was more vibrant. Theirs was a world that was much more technologically and scientifically developed, owing to the lack of existential threats in the form of Aberrations and the various chaos beast incursions. New Teotihuacan's counterpart — San Francisco — was a shining example of this.

The city had been in the midst of a resurgence from widespread urban decay and decline before the Fourth Chaos War had ravaged their counterparts. Silicon Valley, as the people of Earth referred to it, had seen to to wonders such as vertical liftoff space shuttles and personal flying car prototypes, as well as the various other wonders the world was just beginning to enjoy. But that was in the past.

In a month, the world had been changed forever.

Montezuma stepped out from the bustling food market and took in the view. New Teotihuacan was a massive sprawling city of towering skyscrapers that seemed to touch the clouds, with a population of nearly six million people. A staggering size by Terran standards.

A city that had, a little over a year ago, been the site of one of the worst Chaos Beast incursions in the Aztlan Confederacy's long, long, storied history of fending off invasions of all kinds. Now the entire city was on lockdown, and the people were afraid to even venture outside.

He could see it in their faces as they hurried from one destination to the other, avoiding the eyes of the armed soldiers and police who were posted everywhere, the people hurrying from place to place with fear and anxiety on their faces. Montezuma felt a twinge of pity for them, but he knew it wasn't their fault.

They were just doing the best they could in the circumstances.

The city had weathered the storm, and he had helped. But the cost... Montezuma sighed, looking at the people around him and the armed soldiers and police. The soldiers were a mixture of men and women, their faces grim, their uniforms clean, and their weapons held with the ready ease of professional warriors. Green-haired Nahuatl and dark-haired Han Chinese dominated their ranks, with a significant English and northern tribe minority. Troops from across the border with the Northern Alliance of States on joint training programs, no doubt.

A nation, a world united by a shared heritage.

Montezuma took a deep breath and looked at his watch. The train would arrive at 5:30. He'd be there in time to make his meeting.

It had taken him time to get used to the new uniform, and the new responsibilities. The age of majority across most developed Terran nations was 15. The same age the Terran Guard took in new cadets, the same age most Terran higher education programs took in new students.

The same age Montezuma's brother had been when he'd fought and died as a pilot defending California during the war.

Montezuma looked down at the tamales in his hand and thought about what the old man had said.

"Xiao Su."

It was a pet name. An abridged version of his courtesy name — Su Meng Wei. Su, the Dreaming One. Traditional Aztec names were difficult for the original Song delegates to pronounce, and the Aztec priests were too prideful to adopt Chinese names in full. Thus, a compromise had been reached — traditional Aztec names for legal and formal settings, with Chinese courtesy names for day to day use and to deal with the men overseas that may as well have been gods.

Xiao Su. It was the name that had followed Montezuma since birth. He was an adult now. He was expected to act like an adult. To take the initiative, and to not wait around for the orders of his superiors.

But he didn't know what that meant. He had a job now, and a family, and a city to defend, but he really still felt like a boy in many ways. He felt small, lost, and scared. He didn't know what he should do. He didn't know how he could make his parents happy.

But he was going to try.

The train station was busy. It was a large building with glass ceilings, a central plaza surrounded by shops and restaurants, and a large number of people. Montezuma boarded the train and took a seat near the back.

In many ways, he'd lucked out with the squadron he'd been assigned. Captain Ouyang was the leader, and a stern, no-nonsense man, but he was fair and kind in his way. Ouyang Ren was a war hero and the man who'd slain a Duke-class chaos beast that had threatened the whole city, a massive creature that had towered over the buildings.

The city's guardian, S-class magical girl Coatlicue had been grievously wounded in defense of the city. Ren, her guardian knight, had finished the fight for her, avenging his deceased wife. The Captain had a heart of gold. Montezuma had nothing but respect for him.

And the squad. Montezuma sighed. The squad, well. It was an eclectic mix of personalities.

Sergeant Itzcoatl, a muscular man with cropped, short teal hair and muscles upon muscles had been the ideal NCO in many ways. Gruff, stern, no-nonsense, but he was also fair, kind, and had a surprisingly good sense of humor.

Corporal Zi Ling was a young black-haired, green-eyed, petite woman, with an almost innocent look on her face, and a wicked tongue, sharp wit, and a tendency to get under people's skins. But she was a damned good soldier, and an even better mecha pilot. Her rifle was her baby.

And Specialist Cuauhtemoc was... a problem. He was the most talented pilot of all of them, but he had an attitude. He was rude, lazy, and didn't follow orders. He had a bad attitude, and he was a slacker.

And then, there was Montezuma himself.

Montezuma was the new kid, and the one everyone was always watching, judging. The one everyone was waiting to see what he'd do. He didn't feel like he'd earned the right to wear his uniform yet, but it wasn't his call to make, so here he was.

He was going to have to prove himself.

He was going to have to show everyone he was worthy.

Montezuma watched as the train moved out of the station, and into the darkness of the tunnels.

As the train sped away, Montezuma took a deep breath, and let his thoughts wander. His parents were proud of him. They were proud of his brother. They were proud of his achievements.

But they hadn't wanted him to join the Aztlanti Defense Force, and Montezuma knew it.

They'd wanted him to stay home and go to school. Become an engineer. Maybe go to the University, or become an artist.

Montezuma hadn't wanted to go into engineering. He'd wanted to become a soldier, like his brother. He wanted to defend the people, to defend the city.

But his parents had wanted him to stay safe. They wanted him to be safe.

And now he was a soldier, just like his brother, and he was going to have to live up to his brother's legacy.

His brother had died a hero, but that didn't mean he wanted to follow him into the afterlife.

Montezuma took out a tamale and began to eat. It tasted good. It was fresh and hot, and he savored every bite.

Time passed faster than it seemed, and soon, he was at the diplomatic district.

The district had been a thriving hub of international commerce, a center for international trade and cooperation. It was a beautiful, modern district full of towering skyscrapers, green parks, and gleaming shopping centers. It had been the center of the Aztlan Confederacy's international outreach program, and the center of the world for many diplomats.

Montezuma walked past the checkpoints and the barricades, showing his papers and identification to the guards, who waved him through without question.

Since the attack last year, security had been tight. Tighter than ever. The diplomatic district was now an armed camp. Soldiers and police were posted everywhere, their weapons ready, their faces grim.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Montezuma saw a pair of figures that looked familiar as he approached the United States embassy. He recognized the hulking form of Itzcoatl, and a boy around his age that stood beside him, his arm in a sling.

"Montezuma! Hey, you got food!" The specialist shouted. Montezuma grimaced. The boy's arm had been badly injured during the outing to Lenahopeking, escorted Professor Jacob Williams. His mech had been destroyed by the bizarre creature they'd encountered. Cuauhtemoc had been lucky to get out with his life.

The Sergeant and the Specialist were both out of uniform, but there was no mistaking who they were. Cuauhtemo was the only other one on the team close to Montezuma in age, and the one he'd interacted the most with. Itzcoatl was the Sergeant, and a man he greatly respected.

He looked down at the tamales he was carrying. "Ah. Well. I got them for the squad," Montezuma explained.

"I'm the squad!" Cuauhtemoc shot back. He was dressed casually, with a loose-fitting black jacket over a black shirt and jeans. The Specialist had a bit of an edgy look to him, but there was no mistaking his skill in the mech. Cuauhtemoc was good. Really good.

Montezuma glanced up at the sky, to see the stars beginning to appear in the darkening sky. It was a clear night. The stars were bright and shining.

The Sergeant, on the other hand, was a mountain of a man, with cropped, teal green hair, a pair of thick eyebrows and dark brown skin that had seen plenty of time in the sun.

"It's good to see you, Montezuma," Itzcoatl said. "We're glad you made it."

Montezuma smiled and handed him a bag. The Sergeant opened it up and inhaled the smell of the tamales.

"Nothing like Sichuan peppercorn pork tamales," Itzcoatl muttered. He glanced up at the Specialist. "Want one, Coyote?"

"You bet I do!" Cuauhtemoc replied. He took one of the tamales and took a bite.

He looked down at the ground as he chewed, his face filled with sadness.

"This reminds me of my mom's cooking. She was from Sichuan Province," Cuauhtemoc said after a moment.

Montezuma frowned. He didn't know Cuauhtemoc that well, but from the way the Sergeant was looking at the boy, and from the way Cuauhtemoc was reacting, he had an inkling that his parents had been killed during the chaos beast incursions last year.

Montezuma swallowed and looked down at the ground, his own grief threatening to overwhelm him.

The Fourth Chaos War. The worst one in history. A world-ending war. Billions dead, and the death toll as a consequence only rising. Terra had been spared the worst of it, but the aftershocks, the refugee crisis... it had been the greatest disaster in recorded history.

"Your brother would be proud," Itzcoatl said after a few minutes. "You did well."

Montezuma smiled and looked at him, nodding.

Itzcoatl had served with both his brother and Captain Ren during the war. Montezuma looked up at the older man, and the man looked back with a kind, if tired, smile.

"I... I hope so," Montezuma said.

"You're a good kid," Itzcoatl said, patting him on the back.

"Hello!"

A new voice interrupted the two of them, and Montezuma turned to see a tall, brown-haired man with a suit and tie and a walking stick in his hand approach them from the gates. His hazel eyes revealed his Earthborn heritage, and the suit he was wearing suggested wealth and influence.

Itzcoatl saluted, clasping his fist with his open palm with a slight bow.

"Sir."

Montezuma and Cuauhtemoc followed suit, both snapping to attention and saluting.

"A-Ambassador," Montezuma stammered, bowing his head as he promptly switched from Mandarin to English.

The man chuckled and shook his head, his hazel eyes sparkling. "Relax. I must thank you all for rescuing Professor Williams and I from the... creatures we encountered on the trip. I must admit I was expecting a rather dull outing, but the chaos event's appearance and subsequent subjugation certainly livened things up! You Confederate soldiers do excellent work. And a pleasure to see you, Specialist Cuauhtemoc, glad to see you're on your feet."

Cuauhtemoc winced, but bowed his head politely, giving him a forced, but genuine smile.

"Heh. It's not every day a guy gets to fight a Duke-class chaos beast in a mech and live," he replied. "I'm lucky. That's for sure."

Montezuma shuddered, thinking back on the creatures that had emerged. Zhang and Cuauhtemoc had escorted an operator from the Magical Girl Support Operatives to conduct recon on the origin of the Chaos Event. It was a miracle that both survived.

"What happened to him, anyway?" Montezuma asked.

"His mech exploded. The kid from the Support Ops managed to drag him out before it went up in flames, but he got a good number of fractures fighting the thing," Itzcoatl explained. "Lucky bastard."

Montezuma looked at Cuauhtemoc. The boy was looking away, and he could tell that the injuries he'd sustained had been bad.

"I'm fine," Cuauhtemoc said, shrugging. "It's nothing, really."

"Nothing?" Itzcoatl said, his face hard.

"Nothing I wouldn't do again."

Ambassador Hinonkawa nodded, looking away as he coughed. "Well, in any case. I've brought cigarettes for Sergeant Izzy here... and a glass of milk. It's good for you, Specialist. Builds healthy bones."

Itzcoatl chuckled and Cuauhtemoc snorted.

"Sir, the Specialist isn't going to drink that," Montezuma said. He glanced at Cuauhtemoc, who was shaking his head and grimacing.

The Ambassador grinned and chuckled, shaking his head. "He was the one who in fact, requested it."

Cuauhtemoc's grimace deepened. "Sometimes, it takes a man to do something like drinking a glass of milk. And a bigger man to do it in public."

The sergeant burst out laughing and slapped him on the back.

Montezuma smiled.

He was glad they were all alive. He was glad that Cuauhtemoc was okay. He was glad they were all alive. And he was glad they had saved the Ambassador.

Suddenly, the ground began to shake.

Montezuma felt the tremors, and the shaking continued for a few seconds.

Their phones all buzzed simultaneously.

"Magnitude 1.4?" Itzcoatl asked.

"What the fuck?" Cuauhtemoc muttered. "It's barely worth calling it a chaos event!"

The ground stopped shaking, and Montezuma looked at his phone.

Ordinarily, the negentropy generators around the city would nullify chaos events below a magnitude of 2.5, the threshold needed to manifest Aberrant creatures and the monsters of myth. Montezuma looked around and noticed that the streetlights around the area were flickering.

"It's probably nothing to worry about," Montezuma said.

"Maybe," Itzcoatl said.

Montezuma noticed Ambassador Hinokawa narrowing his eyes. The Ambassador had a look of deep thought and concentration on his face as he followed Montezuma's gaze to the street lights.

The Sergeant looked at Montezuma, and then to the Ambassador, who had turned to look at them with an odd look in his eyes. The two exchanged a glance and they seemed to have a silent conversation with each other before the sound of shouting caught their collective attention. It was coming from up the street.

Before anyone else could react, Ambassador Hinonkawa broke into a dead sprint.

"Shit! Let's go, kids!" Itzcoatl shouted. Montezuma nodded, breaking into a dead run as they followed the ambassador.

It didn't take them long to get to the source of the shouting. Montezuma stopped and did a double-take as he saw a soldier shout and level his pistol at a man, buck-naked, and running toward them, screaming, and ranting. Montezuma could barely make out what the man was saying as the soldier screamed for him to get on his knees and surrender.

The man didn't get on his knees.

The soldier pulled the trigger. The gun fired, and the man swerved out of the way. The bullet grazed his shoulder. He lunged at the soldier and slammed his fist into the soldier's chest.

The soldier went flying through the air and hit a nearby wall, crumbling to the ground. The naked man stood there, panting heavily, and looking around wildly, his dark eyes wide.

Montezuma looked at him. He looked... normal. Just an ordinary Nahuatl man. Save for the fact he was buck-naked. But he had some sort of horrible congealed chest wound and covered in visible scars. He was surrounded by the bodies of a dozen fallen police officers and soldiers. The man's hair was long and unkempt, and he looked like he was in his mid to late thirties.

"M-Mierda! Donde carajo estoy?"

"Those eyes..." Ambassador Hinokawa muttered.

"What are you talking about?" Montezuma asked, his voice strained.

"Wait stop! Sergeant Itzcoatl!" Cuauhtemoc screamed, as the sergeant moved in and drew his combat knife. Cuauhtemoc was trying to get his pistol out, and Montezuma fumbled for his own.

Itzcoatl charged the man. He slashed with his blade. The man ducked and swerved, avoiding each strike. The sergeant was fast, and skilled. Montezuma could see that he was seasoned in hand to hand combat.

But the naked man was just a little bit faster. And a little bit more ferocious. He slammed his fist into the sergeant's gut and he grunted in pain, the air being pushed from his lungs as he stumbled back. Itzcoatl raised his arms in defense, only to blink in surprise as he found his knife missing from his grip.

The man grabbed him and threw him over his shoulder, sending the sergeant tumbling through the air.

The sergeant rolled to a stop and slowly rose to his feet. The man walked over to the sergeant, who was still recovering, and soccer kicked him in the gut. The sergeant flew back, and hit a wall.

"G-Get out of here!" Itzcoatl yelled as Cuauhtemoc helped him up.

"Are you kidding me?!" the specialist hissed.

"We can't let him hurt anyone!" The sergeant yelled back. "Just go!"

Montezuma stepped forward, holding his pistol and aiming at the man.

"S-Stop!" Montezuma shouted.

The man turned to him. He didn't move. Montezuma could see the blood on his hands, and the way he held himself was like an animal. Feral. Savage. He wasn't a soldier, or even a normal person. The man was lean, but muscular. His eyes were wide and his face was twisted into a snarl.

Blue eyes. Bright blue eyes just like a zombie twisted into an aberrant by chaos energy. But he was clearly still human and sentient.

"Surrender!" Montezuma shouted. He was shaking. The man was staring at him with those wide eyes and his body was tensing.

Montezuma's finger rested on the trigger. The man growled, and he charged at him with Itzcoatl's knife in hand.

Montezuma pulled the trigger. The man dodged, the bullet missing by a wide margin.

He felt his stomach drop as he squeezed the trigger again and again. Each shot missing by an ever-increasingly wider margin as the man got closer and closer in the blink of an eye.

Montezuma shut his eyes. The man lunged.

And a thwacking sound was all that greeted him.

Montezuma's eyes flew open.

"Enough," the ambassador growled, his hazel eyes narrowing, as Itzcoatl's knife clattered to the ground.

Hinokawa had intercepted the man mid-sprint with his cane and slammed him to the floor. The man struggled beneath the weight of the stick. He snarled and screamed, bucking Hinokawa off him. He rolled, grabbing the knife, and slashing at him. Hinokawa blocked with his stick, parrying each strike. The two exchanged blows, each one faster than the last.

Montezuma stared, wide-eyed.

To his knowledge, the ambassador was a non-combatant, a civilian, and an Earth-born diplomat. He was supposed to be weak and defenseless.

The ambassador wasn't.

The man lunged at Hinokawa. He slammed the end of his stick into the man's gut, knocking the air from his lungs. He followed up with a vicious strike to the head, which sent the man reeling.

"Stop this," Hinokawa said. "I don't want to hurt you."

The man snarled and got to his feet, panting.

"I... I will stop you. Your reign of terror ends here!"

Then, he settled into a strange stance.

"Assassination Art..." the man spoke in English, his voice hoarse.

"I knew it..." Hinokawa murmured, as the man's hands began to glow with red light, his muscles visibly tensing. Hinokawa settled into a defensive stance, his own hazel eyes narrowing.

The man vanished in the blink of an eye.

"Crimson Moonlight Dance!"

He appeared behind the ambassador. His hand slashed forward.

"Luminary Art: Solar Radiance Barrier!" Hinokawa shouted as a series of light shields formed around him. They were a radiant gold and silver, shimmering in the light. The man slashed through the shields, only for them to regenerate. He roared and threw a kick.

"Shining Wave!" A crescent of gold energy shot from the bottom of Hinokawa's stick, sending the man stumbling back as he was blasted in the chest.

The man roared, and vanished.

He reappeared behind the ambassador. His hands were wreathed in a crimson light that seemed to burn.

"Crescent Moon Beheading!"

Hinokawa twirled his staff, and a wave of golden light blasted out of it.

"Radiant Flash!"

The two collided. The red energy of the man's attack exploded, sending him tumbling through the air, while Hinokawa himself was knocked backwards. He grunted as he was slammed into a wall, coughing and panting as he got up. Montezuma stared wide-eyed. He didn't understand. What was going on?

"Assassination Art: Blood Moon's Shimmer!"

The man lunged, his fist glowing red as he disappeared and blurred forward.

Hinokawa dodged out of the way. He raised his stick, and another golden crescent of energy blasted forward.

"Radiant Bolt!"

The golden crescent shot from the end of the staff, hitting the man dead on and sending him skidding across the ground, tumbling to a stop as the man groaned in pain, struggling to his feet.

Hinokawa stepped forward. He looked at the man. "You have to stop."

"Assassination Art..."

The ambassador raised his stick. It began to glow with golden light, a blindingly bright radiance.

The man roared, and his hand slashed through the air.

"Scarlet Starfall!"

He disappeared. And then, he reappeared right in front of Hinokawa.

Hinokawa swung his cane forward, the golden light of his staff colliding with the red of the man's hands. They struggled, their power clashing.

Hinokawa gritted his teeth.

"Snap out of it!" He shouted. He swung the cane forward, slamming it into the man's shoulder. "You aren't like this!"

"I... I must... kill you! End this once and for all!"

"Radiant Flash!" Another wave of golden light shot out from the cane. The man was blown backward and sent tumbling to the ground. He skidded and rolled to a stop, groaning.

Hinokawa walked forward cautiously. "Are... are you done?"

The man groaned and struggled to stand. He looked up at Hinokawa, the blue light fading from his eyes. "You... you aren't her. Who... are you?"

The ambassador sighed, lowering his staff. "It's been sixteen years," he said. "You've... grown up a bit since we've last met, huh?"

The naked man blinked in confusion as Hinokawa took off his coat and draped it over his shoulders. The man blinked in confusion, looking around as he seemed to take stock of the situation for the first time, his face contorted into one of confusion and shock.

"Where... where are we? What's happening?"

Hinokawa sighed, before holding his cane in a prayer position. "Luminary Art: Requiem of Radiant Light," he said. Montezuma's jaw dropped open, as Hinokawa's body glowed with golden light, his brown hair shifting into a golden sheen.

The man's look changed from confusion, to surprise, and then shock.

"No. Impossible. It's... It's you?" The man asked.

The light faded from Hinokawa, and he gave the man a wry smile.

"Sorry I had to beat you up like this. But it seems like you've gotten much stronger." He looked around, and sighed, gesturing at Montezuma. "Lieutenant. Please do keep this confidential."

Montezuma could only nod as Hinokawa turned to the man, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Let me explain everything. You're in New Teotihuacan, Aztlan Confederacy."

The Nahuatl man's jaw fell open as his face went white. He looked down, and shook his head. "What...?"

"It's going to be a long story. I think we should go inside. You've... ah, well. I think you need to put some clothes on." Hinokawa turned to Montezuma. "If you wouldn't mind, please call an ambulance? I'll handle things here."

Montezuma didn't have any words to answer. All he could do was nod dumbly as Hinokawa helped the naked man to his feet. As he watched the man walk away, he could only stare, his mind racing.

What had just happened? Who was this man? How was he able to do what he'd done?

And since when could an Earthborn like Hinokawa do that?!