“Over the past few years, we have noticed that each Samurai seems to have a unique array of items at their disposal. At this time we are unsure if that is because they chose to be unique for a branding purpose, or if it is because each lays claim to certain types of technology. Honestly, I think it's branding, that just makes sense. Regardless of the reason, it means one thing for us, here at Heckler & Koch. We just have to convince as many Samurai as possible to give us access to their unique weapons. I don't really care about them, if they are one of those idiots who thinks bringing knives to a fight with an alien is a good idea. We just want to take the guns. The HK VP9 is kind of going out of style after so many years and we cannot allow our profit growth to drop. I don’t care what you have to do to make that happen, just that you make it happen.”

* Tobias Fehrenspecht, Head of newly created Samurai PR division of Heckler & Koch, 2031

By this point my body had mostly pieced itself back together. Instinctively my hand went to my left forearm, feeling for the tally marks. They were still there, the scars not healed by the Nano-Regenerative. I sighed in relief. If those ever vanished, I wasn’t sure how well I could handle that.

Very well. In terms of bladed weapons, you have a few options available. Between long daggers and short swords, both western and eastern in style, as well as a variety of weapons not available on earth, the selection is quite extensive.

Based on your profile, your history, and the fact that you haven’t used most of the weapons you have been trained with in years, I would recommend to you more basic weapons that you are more familiar with.

In this case that would be the Mark I Silverfang and the Mark I Whisperblade. The Mark I Silverfang is a simple, but potent, long dagger, capable of dealing with most lower digit models of antithesis. In the same vein, the Mark I Whisperblade is a set of throwing knives designed to be effective against the same adversary. The Mark I Silverfang is 5 points each, while the Mark I Whisperblade is 10 points per set of ten.

That sounded good enough for my purposes.

“I’ll take them. Two daggers and the throwing knives.”

While I spoke I slowly got up, feeling a bit better. I was still wounded, and I would not be able to fight as effectively as I wanted to, but it was much better than dying.

The kitchen was a bit of a mess. I couldn’t hear anything from the outside, nor could I see any aliens through the door into the common room. I didn’t have a perfect view, of course, but it at least ensured me that nothing was about to jump me immediately.

Class I Shadowstalker Nullstrike Weaponry unlocked!

Points reduced to: 55

New purchase: Silverfang Mk I x2!

Points reduced to: 45

New purchase: Whisperblade Mk I!

Points reduced to: 35

The box that appeared on the counter next to me looked identical to the ones still laying on the ground. This one had ‘Shadowstalker Blades’ written on it. Turning to it, I opened it, finding the two daggers, and a set of ten throwing knives, all made from a silvery metal with a black hilt and neon green decorations.

The daggers had thin guards reaching down and over my knuckles, just enough to protect my fingers. It made them quite easy to handle, but it was clear that it would also make them unsuited for proper throwing. The design was slightly tilted, the secondary cutting edge was almost straight, only tapering down towards the tip to meet with the main cutting edge. In effect it was a design based on proper combat knives, just with a more dangerous look to it.

The throwing knives were the opposite in terms of design choice. Symmetrical and obviously weighted for the job, they reminded me more of the weapons I was familiar with.

Each dagger came with a small sheath that I could easily attach to my belt, while the throwing knives had a small bandolier that would go across my chest. The weight was pleasant, the daggers hefty enough to be noticeable, but not so much so as to be distracting, while the bandolier felt comfortable.

Now armed, I felt much better already. Taking another look through the kitchen door, I tried to check my messages. Not surprisingly, the net was down. Typically not an issue for me. I had long since learned not to rely on that, it could prove your death sentence on a mission. All of the important things, such as my maps, were downloaded onto my augs for that specific reason.

It did make me worry about Zuri, however, since I couldn’t check up on her.

At this point, I estimated that I’d be able to fight well enough to not risk dying again soon. Going over what I might need, I slowly made my way over to the kitchen door. Despite my best attempts to find any surprises that might be lurking for me, there didn’t seem to be anything amiss.

Nothing I could hear that was close by, nothing I could see. The scent of dead xenos and my own blood was far too heavy to make out anything useful, which did put me on edge a little. I had always relied on my nose a lot. Not being able to do so now reminded me of the less pleasant jobs I had done in the past.

“I need to find the others. They need to get to the shelter. Do you know anything about their status?” I asked softly, not taking my attention away from the entrance to the pizza place.

Unless you purchase more dedicated hacking software, I am sadly unable to help due to the restrictions I am under, placed on me by the protectors. However, I feel I should warn you that you are not yet fully combat ready.

“I can move. I’ve fought in worse situations before. Hell, I’ve gone on missions in worse condition. Didn’t you say you have a profile on me?” I asked softly, carefully moving out of the kitchen and into the main room.

Outside of the dead xenos from before, I couldn’t find any hint of any more aliens. With careful steps I navigated the chaos, avoiding the large pools of alien goo on the ground. Through the windows, I kept a careful eye on the world outside, but I couldn’t spot any aliens yet.

Yes, I do. And I am aware that this is not the first time you have come close to your demise. That said, it is still advisable to act with caution. While your willingness to sacrifice yourself to help others is admirable, doing so without due course would just be a waste. Was it not your vow to redeem yourself of your sins?

I frowned at that. “Now that you mention it, I’m still not sure why you are helping me. From your deep dive into my past, you should know that I didn’t exactly follow the law. I’m a murderer. Much more than that, actually.”

Perhaps I was a bit too accusatory, but I just couldn’t help myself.

Yurei, Samurai are not selected for their crimes, or lack thereof, nor are they selected based on how good they think they are as a person. There are many Samurai out there that have done much worse than you have. And there are some who are much less remorseful about it as well.

I have selected you as my Samurai for your willingness to help others, even to the detriment of yourself. In the past you may have committed sins that you do not feel can ever be forgiven, but yet you have decided to learn from your mistakes, to become a better person. You have put yourself at mortal risk to save your classmates, even those you much rather see dead than alive. The state I found you in, and your immediate desire to continue helping, shows that you are exactly the kind of person the protectors are looking for.

For a moment I was silent, not sure how to reply to that. It seemed almost too good to be true. Which typically meant that it was.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“It makes no sense… I killed people, innocent people. Isn’t it your entire thing to want to help others? To protect humanity? How do I fit into that, when my hands are drenched in the blood of innocents? Not to mention all those less innocent that I killed over the years… I can’t even remember how many lives I ended…”

Yes. And that is something that is not without weight. However, the protectors do not select Samurai based on those deeds. If that would disqualify a person from becoming a Samurai, a good 70% of the Samurai out there would not have been chosen. Despite all your deeds, you keep reminding yourself of what you have done, to remind yourself not to repeat your past mistakes. That alone shows that you have learned a valuable lesson. You are unlikely to let the kind of power the protectors can grant you, corrupt you, because you have seen how ugly things can get.

There was a moment of silence once more, while I digested this. It all just sounded… like a fairy tale, really. One of Leah’s bad fanfics about this Samurai or that. Maybe it was just superstition, but what if it wasn’t?

With all I’ve done, and now with the ability to obtain any weapon I wished… I wasn’t even sure if I trusted myself with this. I could easily go down a very bad road, and I was very aware of that. I had thirteen reminders decorating my flesh for exactly that kind of scenario.

“Just promise me you will stop me if I go too far,” I whispered, barely audible.

That I will. But you will also have to realise that killing people is not something you can always avoid. Not all are innocent, and Samurai quite often find themselves in situations where they have to deal with those that try to take advantage of others.

“Yeah… It’s not that I don’t understand the need for people like me. And I don’t lose sleep over those that deserved their fate. But, as you said, I’ve been down that path before. It’s easy to lose yourself in the job, to just follow orders. At some point you cross a line, and you end up somewhere you can’t return from. I’ve been there before, and I’m afraid that if I get there again, I won’t be able to escape it a second time. You know who I am. What I’ve done, and where I’ve been. So I don’t need to spell it out for you. It makes me wonder if I can trust you.”

Which is understandable and a very reasonable approach to take. Many Samurai trust their AI assistants almost implicitly, and while I do not see the issue with that, it is our duty to help, after all, I can certainly see why not everyone would. To you we are alien. And I am aware of the media depictions that paint us in a bad light.

I’m not going to tell you what to do, Yurei. I’m not your boss, nor am I going to try to sabotage you if you don’t do as I say. I’m here to help you, to assist you in fighting off the antithesis. I will not take advantage of you. And if you decide that you have enough of all of this, then you can choose not to fight. My being here doesn’t mean you are required to fight, just that you are suited to help the protectors uplift humanity.

All I’m asking you, at this moment, is that you trust me enough to let me help you save the others. Afterwards we will have all the time you wish for to discuss these matters in more detail.

I nodded, that I could do. And they were right. I had to hurry.

With a deep breath I focused back on the here and now. My body had healed a bit, not much, but enough that I felt I could move with a faster pace. With a quick thought I checked the navigation app, then the map. I was still a long way from my goal. Hopefully nothing happened.

Finally moving outside of the building, I began to slowly jog along the path that the others had taken. I kept my senses sharp, pushing down my desire to hurry. It wasn’t easy, but I had to keep myself calm. The trick to enduring a dangerous battlefield wasn’t to crush everything in your path and be faster than anyone else. That led to your demise, more often than not. No, the trick was to be prepared for any eventuality.

The wind held the scent of blood and freshly cut grass, but it was all dull. Either too far away, coming from the wrong direction, or from the time I had first engaged the antithesis. I couldn’t hear or see any aliens hiding in the bushes around me, but that didn’t calm me. Instead it made me more anxious. Things were too quiet for an incursion and that was never a good sign.

Then a slight rustle of leaves further ahead, a slight change in the direction of the breeze. With it, the strange taste of cut grass intensified. Not far ahead of me was an alien, I was sure. Slightly increasing my pace, I pulled one of my new daggers, blade held at the ready.

It didn’t take long before I saw it, slowly making its way into the direction I was going, obviously looking for something. It seemed alert and that couldn’t be good. A moment later I smelled why it was so alert. There was the fresh taste of blood on the wind, faint but present.

That wasn’t a good sign, and my heart rate increased. I couldn’t be sure if they were injured or dead, but I wasn’t going to wait to find out. Pulling out one of my throwing knives, I increased my pace. With a flick of my wrist, the blade sailed through the air, a low whistle following, just barely audible. The weapon hit its target, catching the aliens' attention, and I dashed after it.

Before it had time to react, I landed on top of it, dagger already finding its eye and leaving a deep wound. With a quick motion, the blade left the now useless sensory organ, finding its way to the throat instead, easily cleaving through the thick skin. The model Three wasn’t dead yet, but it was tumbling.

With one last strike I hit its second eye. This time I put more force into the strike, and the dagger buried itself down deep. Enough to pierce the skull and what passed for the brain, leaving the thing collapsing underneath me. It really was amazing how much more effective a proper weapon was against them.

Without hesitation, I pulled both blades out and turned once more. I didn’t have time to waste, the scent of blood became stronger by the moment.

Moving quickly, but not quite running, I followed the trail, careful to not miss any aliens in my haste. That caution was forgotten when I started to hear voices from the direction I was heading in.

Some of them sounded familiar, stressed and panicked.

Rushing past a long bed of flowers, I found the group, scattered and panicking. Leon and his crew of bastards were at the back, nearly pissing themselves, despite being the biggest guys around. The girls were in the middle, together with the staff of the pizza place and some of the other patrons.

At the front stood Zuri, wounded, bleeding, a sign of some sort in hand, ready to fend off the aliens that were crawling out of the bushes.

I fell into a dead sprint.

Pain surged through my legs, but I didn’t notice, eyes glued to the aliens in front of the group, willing myself to be fast enough. I wasn’t.

One charged, a second pounced, Zuri yelled, jumping in front of the first and throwing the sign at the other. She took the brunt of the attack, going down, blood spilled.

My vision went red.

Instincts kicked in, long discarded but not forgotten; my body moved on its own. With the expertise born from years on the battlefield and countless nights spent stalking the shadows, I blurred forward, flying through the low foliage of the park. One knife flew, then the second, only one hit, but that was enough.

Going full tilt, I appeared out of the bushes, making straight for the alien that had Zuri pinned down. She tried to punch it, screaming and yelling in hysterics. Then I reached; impacting the fucker like a freight train. Crashing into it and toppling it over, sending it, and myself, into the second, which was just recovering from the hit of the sign and preparing to jump the group.

Bending myself as much as my body was capable of, and ignoring the sheer wave of agony ripping through me, I managed to turn myself enough to end up on my feet, one dagger buried deep in the side of the aliens skull.

Not wasting a moment I jumped up, ripped the blade out, and took a chunk of the alien’s skull with it. The second one was trying to jump the group once more. Zuri, despite her wounds, tried to get up and in the way of it, but this time I was faster.

Within the blink of an eye, I appeared in front of it and jumped onto the fuckers back, my blade drawing deep lines around the alien’s neck. A flash of silver, a line of alien gore, the taste of cut grass.

I ignored the sound of the now nearly decapitated alien hitting the grass, everything around me forgotten, save for Zuri. Like a blur I moved, coming to a stop next to her, ignoring the pain in my knees I felt when I hit the ground.

“Stryx!”

Her eyes were half-closed, tears obvious, her gaze focused onto something in the distance. She groaned from the pain, not quite responsive. A quick glance found her wounds. Shattered right arm, a deep bite in her left side, wounds on her legs, blood everywhere.

Samurai Zuri is indeed in bad shape, suffering multiple-

“Whatever I need, now!” I ordered, my voice as hard as steel and as cold as iron.

New purchase: Class I Nano-Regenerative Suite!

Points reduced to: 45

New purchase: Class I Hemo-Restore!

Points reduced to: 40

I didn’t need to wait to be told what to do, already reaching for the Nano-Regenerative and quickly opening the box. Fishing out the mask I held it in front of Zuri’s mouth. “Breathe in.”

“Yurei… what…” she stared, trying to focus on me, but not quite managing. I didn’t answer, simply pushing the Nano-Regenerative into her mouth. She tried to spit it out, coughing, but I didn’t relent, not until the thing was completely empty.

Finally letting it fall to the ground, leaving Zuri coughing over and over, I picked up the Hemo-Restore and placed it next to the bite mark at her side. The entire thing emptied almost instantly and I let it drop, trying to make her more comfortable.

With this she will survive. However, she will require more treatment later.

Letting out a sigh of relief I tried to center myself, taking a few calming breaths.

Zuri would be okay. She would survive. The thought played in my mind on repeat.