[Episode 176387] [Episode 176387]Orion felt like he was being sucked through a wind tunnel. It had been WAY too long since he used this technique, not even counting the time he spent in stasis.
Memories collided with him in a manner that felt far too physical to be the results of a psychic bond. Images of pain, mostly. Near-death experiences by the dozen. Hardship. Toil. Humiliation. A life that had only one anchor. An anchor that loved to see just how far it could toe the line between life and death.
Orion decided then and there that if he ever had the need, he would definitely seek out Genma's assistance as a drill sergeant. Just for the problem soldiers, though. No way he'd put anyone he liked through this sort of torture.
He wasn't sure when he stumbled upon the memory of the neko-ken, but before he knew it, he was in a pale darkness surrounded by howling felines as they savagely attacked a little boy.
Blood pooled in the dirt, both from the young Ranma and the cats that had been killed fighting each other for the sausage that bound the subject of the training. Soon the meat was gone, but the cats were not so easily satisfied, and viciously clawed and bit the child who still smelled of meat.
Orion watched all this in mute silence, blinking in surprise.
'Meh. I've seen worse.' He shrugged. Still, it was a little unsettling even to him to see a child put through such torture, and he couldn't possibly see the benefit of this exercise (he didn't realize that the ki claws were derived from the training). Maybe the whole point was to drive the trainee mad and instill the phobia in the first place? If that was the case, Orion would have to agree that it was quite effective, though he couldn't fathom why someone would want to use it in the first place.
'Well, time to get to work...' With that thought, the psychic "form" of Orion's body dissolved into motes of light, and then faded along with the memory from Ranma's mind.
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Ranma didn't know where he was or what was happening. One moment he was being accosted by some demon cat, and now he appeared to be floating over a wildly shifting battlefield.
"Damn it. I'll bet that stupid demon cat killed me. Just great. I always knew the little furballs would be the end o' me," Ranma mumbled. It appeared that he had no method of propulsion in this afterlife, so he settled in to watch the only thing around to watch: the battles going on below.
It was more than a little unsettling. Besides the fact that Ranma was a martial artist and unused to killing beyond the scope of hunting animals, the atmosphere itself was extremely disturbing. One moment it would show a clash of dirty and rugged individuals wielding knives and blunt pieces of scrap, and the next it would show futuristic soldiers firing at each other from behind barricades with weapons that spat bolts of fire and light.
The terrain shifted seemingly at random, and people died left and right. Some went slowly, some went quickly, some suffered, and some didn't have time to realize they were hit before they expired. Some had flashy, gory deaths that made Ranma sick, and some seemed to simply keel over in a manner that Ranma would have found funny in a different context.
Amidst all the other weirdness, he would occasionally catch a glimpse of women on the battlefield. This wasn't strange in and of itself, as he had been to the Amazon village and seen plenty of women fighters, but for some reason these women weren't wearing armor or fatigues or helmet or anything, but rather an especially girly approximation of a cheerleader outfit. After a while of watching the random torrents of war play out beneath him, he felt reasonably sure they were especially important or powerful, because whenever he saw them they'd be throwing out a big honking energy blast of some sort. Maybe they were like those wizards from the video games? Although those people at least dressed better.
By the time he felt events starting to slow and started moving, Ranma was pretty confident that he'd seen just about every face of war and battle: honorable duels and assassination, infiltration and assault, rioting and policing, subjugation and liberation, close combat and artillery barrages, massacres and defense, and more than one example of a chaotic friendly fire that would have left a cold pit in his stomach had he retained a physical body.
'Well, looks like I'm moving on. Stupid cat.'
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"HOLY CRAP!!" Shouted two mouths simultaneously as Ranma and Orion jerked back from the mind meld position, each one looking completely overwhelmed.
Ranma took several deep, shuddering breaths, then grasped his chest over his heart. 'Huh? I'm breathing? I'm ALIVE?' Then he looked down, and his eyes widened. "Hey! You're the demon cat!"
Orion rubbed his head just under the crescent moon crest. "I'm not a demon cat. Stop shouting."
Ranma blinked. "Oh. Okay." Then he cocked his head to one side. "Hey... I'm not scared o' ya!"
Orion raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why not?"
Ranma's brow furrowed as he thought back to the dark days of being tossed into the pit of cats. It was just as vivid as ever... actually, even more vivid than usual. And yet...
"I dunno. I'm way bigger than you. What could you do to me?" He asked. It just made sense, somehow. When he was child, bound and surrounded, he didn't stand a chance, but as he was now...
Orion nodded slowly, but then raised his paw and extended his claws. "How about this, then?"
Ranma frowned and then pulled back one of his sleeves, balling that hand into a fist. "Try me, kitty."
"No thanks," the gray tom said quickly, setting his paw down. "I was just checking. It looks like it worked. You're free of your phobia."
The pigtailed boy blinked again. "Really? You did that? Hey, thanks!"
"No sweat. Though I'd be lying if I said I was doing it out of altruism. I need your help."
Ranma blinked and then looked around to make sure they were alone. He didn't want his father to come back to see him talking to an animal, after all. "Right. You want me to fight monsters or something, right?"
Now Orion blinked. "Yes. You remember that from when you were... ah..."
"In the neko-ken," Ranma explained. "It's a stupid martial arts technique my Pop decided ta try. Usually I can't remember anything from it, but bits and pieces are comin' ta me now."
"Well, that'll make things easier," Orion mumbled. 'So long as he doesn't hold me to that bargain about the tuna.' "Anyway, my name is Orion, and this is what the situation is..."
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"I gotcha," Ranma said as he prodded the embers of the campfire. "So this chick becomes a champion of justice or whatever, except she's got all the grace and skill of a grapefruit. So you're gettin' together a coupl'a guys who actually know what they're doing to do all the real fighting and keep her safe while she searches for this Moon Princess chick."
"Precisely," agreed Orion, glad that Ranma seemed to be the sort to take anything in stride (unless it was a challenge or insult to his person, anyway). "My counterpart is scouting the streets and apparently turning random people into magical warriors. Given the scope and power of our opposition, I decided to take the initiative and do some REAL recruitment."
Ranma nodded, weighing the options in his mind. Contrary to what Orion believed, he WAS taking this with a grain of salt. He had no problem with talking cats messing around with his mind (since his one experience in that arena had turned out well), but it was a bit much to believe that there was a shadow war going on in Tokyo where the entire planet was at stake. He knew that there were martial artists and demon hunters in Tokyo - he was fairly sure he had met and defeated nearly half of them - so what were they doing while all this was going on?
Then again, if the story was to be believed, Orion was the only one trying to spread awareness of the threat to those who could help, while both these "Negaverse" people and the Sailor Moon girl were trying to keep a relatively low profile.
Or maybe those demon hunters were just lazy. Fighters in Tokyo DID tend to have some bizarre quirks, himself included.
"Well, it's a martial artist's duty to protect the weak and banish demons," Ranma quoted his father as he stood up, dusting off his pants, "and I do owe ya one for helpin' with the neko-ken. When do we start?"
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(Posted Wed, 08 Nov 2006 08:29)
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