Even years later, a horrific tragedy still haunts the conscience of Chiba City.

It was a freak car accident, leaving over twenty dead in its wake. It was all over the news for far too long. The driver was among the casualties, but with no sign of intoxication. He had driven his car far too quickly through a red light at a certain intersection just coming off a main highway. He lost control of the vehicle and veered off course, ploughing through a crowd of pedestrians, a bus stop, and a long-lived family-owned restaurant.

The deaths of those innocents lingered on the local consciousness, haunting them. Whispers, sightings of something strange began to emerge. After the fourth perpetrator met an unfortunate end, incidents of speeding or red-light infringement dropped to near zero. Some called it just an urban legend; others a curse, that breaking the traffic laws unleashes a demon that will hunt you down for defiling such hallowed ground.

The story could only be just that, right?

* * *

Rinkaku Harigane held his breath for far too long. They cut across several lanes of traffic at speed, flashing through the intersection at as red a light as could be; the JPRO car, hot in pursuit. A battalion of angry horns on either side protested. Pedestrians all around stared on in horror, the same thing on all their minds.

Rin screwed his eyes shut, awaiting their inevitable end.

It never came.

Slowly, he opened one eye. He wasn’t dead; nothing had tried to kill them yet; they hadn’t veered off course; the car was still in one piece. His grip on his seat relaxed as he fell back against the leather, relieved.

“Sorry,” he said. “False alarm. Guess it was just superstition after all.”

“Boy,” the Architect's tone caught his attention. “I thought you said those multi-coloured lights were supposed to be stationary.”

Rin’s brow furrowed. Was that a trick question? “They are.”

“Behind you.” Architect pointed.

A roll of thunder echoed through the street, accompanied by the distorted wailing of sirens. Rin groaned. Him and his big mouth. A shudder passed through the car. The ground underneath them shook. All in the car save for Tegata turned around, horrified. Only Juusei was brave enough to voice their collective reaction.

“What the hell is that thing?!”

Emerging from the traffic lights back at the intersection, a titan had materialised into view. Five storeys high, the behemoth had a gaunt, lanky humanoid frame with long limbs. It was a horrid metal amalgamation, twisting cables and bent steel girders all fused together into a living nightmare. It creaked with every movement, psychic energy crackling through its ungainly limbs, traffic iconography fused into its artificial carapace. Where its head should be, columns of traffic lights, all burning a brilliant red, stared them down with fury. Gigantic feet tore up the pavement with every step.

“Faster, now!"

Tegata didn’t need to be told. Slamming his foot down on the accelerator, they tore down the street, narrowly avoiding the cars in front. Approaching the junction, he took a sharp right. He had no idea where on earth he was going, only to get as far away as possible from whatever monstrosity had just spawned right on top of them.

* * *

Dentaku Bango in the car behind couldn’t believe what he was seeing. What made it even scarier was that even Hideyori Hakana didn’t seem to have any more of a clue. The man drove in shocked silence, eye on the road.

The Traffic Sentinel was right behind them, only a few gigantic steps away. It seemed intent on chasing them to the ends of the earth. The ground shook with each footfall, glass and concrete shattering on the buildings nearby with every collateral swipe of the goliath’s disproportionate hands.

“We can’t let them get away.” Hideyori yanked on the handbrake, drifting right after their target. “Focus on the mission. We’ll cut them off while they’re distracted. Jam that thing, Techukara. Slow it down, control it.”

Tsushin stared at the monster, fingers pressing into her temples. The monster didn’t stop. One metal hand grabbed and tore through the corner of a building as it turned, raining concrete down onto the street.

“It’s not working!” She cried. “There’s no signal for me to jam!”

On the street, the Sentinel’s destruction left chaos in its wake. Stranger still, none of the public seemed able to even see what caused it. Plans had to change, and fast. Hideyori Hakana spun on the wheel and the car lurched to the left. In his haste, his side of the car grazed a street lamp and nearly ran over a couple waiting to cross. Looking in his rear-view, he saw the traffic sentinel charge past the turning after Harigane and crew. That was useful to note: it was after Harigane, not them. Hideyori grinned. Very useful indeed.

* * *

“It’s not taking any damage!” Juusei winced and held her hand in the other. Her last volley of gunshots were shrugged off by the Sentinel as though they were pebbles. “And the JPRO car’s gone!”

“Keep shooting!” Rin cursed under his breath. “Damnit. What on earth even is this thing?!”

The Architect was still manifested by his side. Despite the commotion, the man had remained silent, studying. “Look at it more closely, boy. Tell me what you see.”

Rin stuck his head out of the window. In spite of his racing heart, he managed to muster enough concentration to peer at it through his third eye. Shifting patterns of psychic energy overlaid his vision, dancing in his periphery. He concentrated on the demon and gasped. The psychic energy radiating from it all conglomerated into a literal mass, almost as though—

“There’s no physical body!” Rin cried. “None at all!”

At first he’d thought it was like the Warden. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Correct. You mentioned the curse over this intersection, didn’t you? Perhaps you were right all along.”

“It was real this whole time?”

“Not at first. The public’s cognition must have made it so.” The Architect wore a wide grin. “Fascinating. A phenomenon, created from agglutinated psychic energy all centred around the site of this tragedy!”

“We created this?!” Rin looked back at the warpath the traffic sentinel had left, aghast.

“Glorious, isn’t it?” The Architect heralded the approach of the rampaging titan, both arms held wide. “What a marvel! This is the power of pure psychic energy given form!”

“How do we defeat it?”

“At your strength, boy?” The Architect snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“That’s helpful!”

Tegata turned another sharp left around the approaching street corner. Rin yelped as the inertia slammed him into the side of the car.

“We’re going to have to lose it, somehow,” Tegata said, glancing behind.

“Eyes front!”

Dead ahead of them was the JPRO car, approaching from the other direction. Behind the wheel of the other car, Hideyori grinned. A head-on collision wasn’t in the team’s best interests. The road ahead was straight, no side-turnings, and with a narrow pavement on either side. They’d trapped them, finally.

“Think of something, Rin!” Tegata yelled back. “I can’t turn here!”

Rin had already thought of something, and was already busy making a frame. Twisting the lines between his fingers, he bent the plane and warped the shape into a spiked tetrahedron, three inches wide. Just like he had done against Bango before, he managed to duplicate the singular caltrop into a large handful.

Rin hurled them from his window. The shapes bounced over the road and into the path of the JPRO car’s front tires, which exploded with satisfying bangs. The approaching car slowed to a crawl. The second part was easier. Leaning fully out of the window, Rin drew his hands apart and created a wedge-shaped ramp! He cast it forwards, setting the construct in place up against the front of the JPRO car.

“Full speed!”

Their engine, still smoking, gave a roar and Rin held his breath. They hit the ramp and tipped back thirty degrees, before they rolled over the top of the other vehicle and landed with a jolt on the other side.

The JPRO car’s back wheels screamed across the tarmac in an attempt at reversal, but Juusei had other plans. Two well-placed shots later, and now all four of their tires sported punctures. The girl let out a whoop which soon crumpled into a grimace. One mighty stomp from the Traffic Sentinel crushed the car underfoot. Everyone drew a sharp breath.

The silver car then exploded in a roar of petrol flame fury. Moments before, an orb jettisoned through the roof at speed, glinting in what little daylight remained. It landed with several discordant clinks on a nearby rooftop. A flash, and the orb expanded revealing three people, one still standing.

“Not bad,” commented Hideyori Hakana. “Not bad at all.” He watched the other car race further down the street, the metal monstrosity still in pursuit. In spite of such a failure, however, he couldn’t help but smile. “You never fail to surprise, kid.”

Dentaku Bango and Tsushin Techukara both lay at his feet, eyes wide. It took them a while to realise they’d been yanked from the jaws of certain death.

“We’re alive,” Dentaku murmured, looking around. He got to his feet. "You saved us?"

“Don’t thank me just yet.” Hakana’s expression soured as he adjusted his hat. “Boss won’t be pleased, but that’s just life.”

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Dentaku shivered at the thought and stared at the ground. His first two chances to prove himself had ended in failure.

Tsushin Techukara still sat on her knees. She didn’t move. Her dead eyes saw less than usual. Dentaku bent down and tried to lift her up too. She was likely still in shock, just like him. The moment his hands touched under her arms, however, she lashed out at him in a blind rage. Dentaku yelled and fell back, his hands cut and bleeding in a flash of sharp nails. Tsushin rose to her feet and unearthed a feral hiss at him.

Hakana raised a nonchalant eyebrow. “You alright there, doll?” Tsushin made an attempt to clutch at his sleeve, and the man gently wove his arm out of the way.

The switch in her demeanour at the sound of his voice was instantaneous.

“Yes, sir.” She bowed. “Please forgive me for inconveniencing you. I’ll accept any punishment.”

Even Hakana seemed a little creeped out at that. Dentaku, glad he wasn’t the only one, got to his feet again and wiped his hands. The cuts weren’t deep at all, but still stung like hell. The sounds of the car chase were growing further away. He listened in for Harigane’s signal; it too grew fainter.

“Aren’t we going to pursue them?”

Hakana held up a finger, already on the phone.

“Boss, it’s me,” he stated. “Bad news, I’m afraid; they got away.” A few seconds passed, a grunt, then a nod. “No, all’s not lost. We ran into something interesting once we got into the city. Hard to tell you here, but if you’ll give me a moment—” he grinned— “I’ll gladly show you.”

The conversation went on for another half minute. The man then stowed the phone away. “Don’t bother pursuing,” he said. “You’ve done enough for today.”

Dentaku bowed his head slightly. A neutral comment; he had expected far worse.

“For a first performance,” Hakana continued, “you did admirably. You had a tough act and a tougher crowd. Shame about the results, of course, but we learned a lot—and have you to thank for it.”

The man’s droll tones gave Dentaku no suggestion as to how he should interpret them. To save face he, again, tried his best not to.

“Count yourself lucky you’re still alive—” Hakana shot him a wicked look, rolling another orb between his fingers— “for now.”

Dentaku shivered.

It wasn’t long before the three were swallowed up from the rooftop and disappeared. Their wrecked car still lay smouldering on the street, watched over and photographed by eager yet frightened bystanders, one of a hundred instances of the massive collateral that the Traffic Sentinel’s wrath had wrought upon the city. Sirens from police cars following the commotion sent a discordant din through the streets, but none as loud as the Sentinel itself.

It wouldn’t cease until those villains were destroyed.

* * *

The villains in question weren’t exactly about to give up easily, either.

“How are we going to escape this thing?” Tegata’s attention was locked ahead of him. He could hear police sirens not too far away. His face paled, his sweating palms dangerously slick on the steering wheel as he tried desperately to keep the five of them on the road. The Sentinel still loomed behind them, bathing the car in the beams of red from the lights on its face.

Rin looked like he might have an idea. “How fast are you going?”

“As fast as I can!”

“Numbers!”

Tegata’s gaze flitted to the dashboard. “Fifty!”

Something clicked in Rin’s mind. “Traffic lights up ahead! Slow down! The inner-city speed limit is twenty-five!”

“Are you insane? If we stop, we’re dead!”

“Trust me!”

In a decision he knew he wouldn’t have time to regret, Tegata slammed on the breaks just as the lights ahead of them turned red. The car squealed to a halt just before the line, and everyone held their breath. Pacified by their brake lights, the Traffic Sentinel slowed. No-one dared move a muscle. The sentinel’s red glow still focused exclusively on them, watching, waiting for any kind of mistake. The ten seconds that followed were the longest any of them had ever experienced.

The light then turned green.

“Slowly," Rin cautioned.

Tegata exhaled, and released his foot off the clutch, shifting into first gear. The engine purred as they rolled forward off the line. The eerie red glow that painted the tarmac around them turned green. Another step from the sentinel shook the ground, and everyone tensed, but it was slower. Rin looked out of the window and saw the monster walk. The relative silence made his blood run cold, until he realised the sentinel’s warning sirens had ceased. All Rin could hear now was the bustle of the city around, and the police cars still some way away.

“Keep going,” Rin whispered. Tegata nodded. They turned the corner, and the sentinel followed, still watching. They were under the speed limit now, twenty-three miles an hour.

“What’s happening?” Juusei cried from the roof. Eyes wide, she stared up at the creature, transfixed, as it lumbered passively behind them.

“It only chased us because we were breaking the traffic laws,” Rin said at last. “Think about it. We crossed a red light at that intersection, strike one. Then, we kept driving too fast in an attempt to lose it, strike two.”

Tegata still didn’t take his eyes off the road. “Architect said that thing was created by the public’s perception of that Traffic Curse, right?”

Rin nodded. “I heard a rumour about the curse once. Some people went through the intersection too fast once like we did, but lived. They slowed down right after, I guess by rectifying their mistake?”

“It’s still following us!” Juusei reported. “How do we get it to go away?”

Rin held his forehead for a moment in thought. “If we lead it back to the intersection and cross properly, we’ll undo our infraction.”

“We can try,” Tegata said. “It hasn’t killed us yet.”

They turned left around the next corner, and from there went straight on for two blocks. All the while, each of them prayed silently for every second of their life that was spared by the hulking demon.

Soon, the intersection honed into view. The streets at this point were deathly quiet. Most had since evacuated to escape the wrath of this invisible carnage. The four-way traffic lights blinked at them before turning red, and they stopped. They could almost feel the Traffic Sentinel’s mechanical breath on the back of their necks as they waited. At last, the lights turned green, and Tegata took them in a right-hand turn down another street.

“It’s working!” Juusei cried.

The Sentinel had stopped in the middle of the intersection. Lights still a blissful, reassuring green, the phenomenon began to fade away. The corrupted metal titan broke apart into particles of psychic energy before their eyes, flowing back into the traffic lights on each corner. Soon, the sentinel was no more.

Tegata kept driving. No-one said a word. Where they were going, no-one knew. They kept at a steady speed down a few more side-streets until they found a large enough alley to park into. Releasing the gearshift, Tegata engaged the parking brake and turned the makeshift key in the ignition. The comforting rumble of the engine dissipated.

For another few seconds, all was still. All five were frozen, their expressions the same: wide-eyed, unblinking, shocked into silence.

Then, the adrenaline vanished all at once. Rin’s head thumped against the dashboard; Tegata’s, too, against his wheel. Blue’s broad shoulders drooped. His head lolled to the side, staring down into the footwell. The rope that had once been Kinuka unravelled itself from around the ceiling and dropped in a tangled heap. No longer tied down, Juusei tumbled backwards through the open skylight and collapsed into Blue’s lap, breathing shallow.

What followed was pure emotional pandemonium.

Tegata leant back in his seat and began to cry. Sobs wracked a heaving chest as a blanket of tears rolled uninhibited down pale cheeks. Rhythmic thuds echoed as Rin repeatedly hit his head against the dash, his best efforts to avoid hyperventilating a failure. Kinuka’s top half had woven itself back to normal; the rest still a tangled pile of string. She and Juusei held one another and wailed a discordant tune into the other’s shoulder. Blue made not a sound, but had his arms around them both.

How long this continued for, none of them knew. The encroaching din of sirens that soon drew near, however, were enough to break them from their reverie.

Rin stopped risking a concussion and took a peek behind. He froze, and instantly buried himself in the folds of his coat.

Why now?

Four police cars, their lights blaring in all directions, had pulled up behind them in a line to prevent any escape—not that there was going to be any attempt, of course. Rin doubted any of them had the strength, let alone the nerves, to move much any time soon. A man had stepped out from one vehicle and was approaching. The skies had grown much darker since he’d last clocked the time of day. The man was a shadow. Rin couldn’t recognise him, only making out the silhouette of his long coat. It could’ve been his imagination, but he thought he saw a glint of white wink at him through the darkness, a sigil of some kind, from where his eye might’ve been. Tegata and Rin shared a worried look; Juusei whimpered from behind them.

“Chiba City Police!” An authoritative voice from outside made them all start. The latch on Tegata’s side clicked and the door was flung wide open. The beam of a flashlight probed the car’s interior.

“You’re all under—oh, I don’t believe it.”

The first thing Nagora Ibuse saw when he opened that car door was Rinkaku Harigane, slumped down in the passenger seat and peeking out at him over his jacket collar. Four more pairs of eyes—none of whom he recognised—blinked at him like deer in headlights. Staring back at them all, Ibuse sighed and pointed his flashlight away, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Everything alright, Detective Ibuse?” Another voice.

Ibuse turned back and hollered, “yeah, fine. Nothing serious, just a bunch of damn kids. You guys go. I’ve got this.”

Affirmative shouts came from afar. The officers got back in their vehicles and, one by one, the three backup cars began to slope off.

Ibuse turned back to glare at the miscreants or, at least, one miscreant in particular. “What the hell are you playing at, Harigane? You didn’t even think to call me?”

“Detective…” Rin was having a hard time forming words. He could’ve sworn he felt his heart stop for a moment.

“You know this guy?” Tegata whispered. The boy nodded.

“Listen,” Rin began.

Ibuse cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it.” The man shook his head and sighed. “At least, not right now.” He stood up to check whether they were alone. The last of the reinforcements had just pulled away, the situation dealt with in their eyes. He waited a few seconds before continuing. “I’m sure there’s a brilliant story behind why I’m finding you and your friends at the epicentre of collateral damage the extent of which the city hasn’t seen in several decades, but that can wait. Right now, you’re all coming with me.”

“Psst, Rin!” Juusei whispered over his shoulder. “Can I shoot him?”

“No!” Rin hissed. “For god’s sake, don’t!”

“What was that?” Ibuse’s hand went to his holster. He didn’t like what he thought he just heard.

“Nothing!” Rin’s voice sounded far higher than he would’ve liked. “Really, nothing!”

“Rin, who is this guy?” Kinuka whispered from behind him.

“Just get out of the car!”

Ibuse stepped back as the boy with pink hair rose from the driver’s seat, hands raised and clasped behind his head. Rin followed suit on the other side. The other two doors opened and three more emerged. The detective kept a careful eye on them all, but was distracted by a pile of string that wound itself back up into a pair of legs, and then the rest of a body! Ask no questions, he reminded himself, and you’ll be told no lies. He’d already met a man who could stop time, for heaven’s sake.

He recognised that girl—Kinuka Amibari. The other three—the small black-haired girl, the large boy with a striking blue mop, and pinky—he didn’t have the slightest clue. He pointed over to the lone police car, and the group processed in silence. Ibuse, following behind, counted heads and sighed. “Five of you will be a little tight, sorry about that; unfortunately, there’s no alternative.” He tapped Rin on the shoulder. “I want you in my passenger’s seat.”

The man was right. It wasn’t comfortable, but somehow they were able to squeeze everyone in. Ibuse lowered himself back into his seat and shut the door. All five still stared expectantly at the officer. Ibuse closed his eyes and began to massage his temples.

“Alright,” he said at last. “First of all—” He turned around in his seat— “And believe me I’m taking a big risk with all of this, but none of you are under arrest.” He counted at least three jaws drop following that last statement, following which, sighs of monumental relief. “Ordinarily, you’d all be on your way to the station right now, if not already in a cell. Grand theft auto, reckless driving, driving without a licence, violation of multiple inner-city traffic laws,” he listed the charges off his fingers, “and we’d have to interrogate you all as to how you’re connected to the widespread damage around the 7th Eastern Highway Intersection. Do I make myself clear?”

Rin nodded. His tongue was tied, even if he had anything smart to say.

“But,” Ibuse continued, “given you’re already suspected of much greater crimes, the target of a police manhunt manipulated by a nefarious third party, not to mention the fact this will be the second time I’ll have forgone my duties as a police officer, that makes me as much of an accomplice as the rest of you. So.” Ibuse took some chewing gum out of his pocket and posted it between his lips. His jaws then got to work. It helped to take a little of the edge off the stress. “Start talking, kid.”