Running to Stand Still

[Yoshimura]

One of the Christian priests approached. "Mr. Yoshimura, the Regus will see you now."


Ichiro stood and bowed, thanking the priest for his help. Ichiro approached the door and it opened revealing the woman who had first entered the Regus' office. Ichiro stepped aside, allowing her to pass, and bowed in a greeting before turning to enter the office of the Regus itself.

The man in the room dominated it. The Regus was an intimidating man, a fitful position for a man that had earned the highest rank among the Atharim. Ichiro knew little about Armande Nicodemus, but from what he had seen and heard, the man deserved his title and the respect that came with it.

Ichiro was still trying to figure out what to say as he began his bow - lower than he had for the priest or woman. He stood straight, meeting the Regus' eyes for only a moment. It wasn't polite to look someone in the eyes, but the momentary gaze had almost stared into him. Ichiro could feel the man's power through that gaze.

"Regus-sama,"
Ichiro said, using the honorific for those above his own station. "I bring greetings from brothers and sisters in Japan. Yoshimura Ichiro at your service."
He bowed again as he said it, and straightened himself out as he waited for the Regus to speak.

[Jacinda]

Jacinda felt her heart jump at his words. No, she felt as she had when she was a young girl. Giddy, excited. At last, she was in. She regarded Regus with a firm gaze and nodded. The threat was unnecessary, but she understood the reason. Now that she was in, she wasn't sure what to say. "Thank you, Regus. I will not let you down."


She got up and walked out of the room, resisting the urge to dance. She couldn't help the smile on her face though. Damn, but this was a good day. She walked passed the short Japanese guy who'd been there before, too excited to wonder what he was doing there.

She had been accepted into the Order of the Archangels. Her new life had begun.

[Armande]

Armande watched her leave, the excitement plain. He shook his head. He hoped that she would prove herself worthy. At the very least, she seemed to have no reservations about the purpose of the Order. He was not a fool. He knew that many among the Atharim had grown soft. They did not have the stomach for their true purpose. While it disgusted him, a purge was not necessary. There were plenty of threats for the weak-hearted to hunt. While the reborn gods were the greatest enemy, that did not mean that the dreyken or the oni had disappeared. No, if anything, such creatures were on the rise. There were even hints of something new in the tunnels.

He had not seen anything like that the last time he had been down there. His lip twisted at the memory. He had allowed a Naga to live. In the order of things, the Naga were far lower in their danger. But still, the action had left a bad taste in his mouth. That student had asked for there to be trade. Idly, he wondered if the man had survived. His wounds had been deep. Not that it mattered. There was plenty for the milk-hearted among them to hunt. The hard wood, the core of the Atharim, would focus on the greatest danger.

The man who walked in was dressed in traditional Japanese Samurai garb, his swords plain. Armande's eyes narrowed. The fact that the man was armed didn't cause alarm. And yet, such a bold thing, to enter his presence in such a way. It betrayed his state of mind. As did his clothing. The man deliberately sought to stand out here in Moscow. Or else gave no thought to the efficacy of their work. Traditionally garbed and armed Samurai walking the Moscow streets would not be circumspect. The fact that the man did not consider any of this bespoke his blindness and provincial nature.

Very likely family honor was at the core of this man. Would that be a help or a hindrance? The man bowed low and then greeted him, humility a vestment like his robes, a superficial affectation. He nodded to the chair, watching the man carefully.

"Indeed, Mr. Yoshimura. And yet I did not call for you. Which begs the question, why are you here?" If the man wanted something, he would have to be up front about it. One did not travel around the world simply to offer to serve in any capacity. Hiding ambition behind his robes would do him no good here.

[Yoshimura]

Yoshimura took a seat when the Regus nodded at the chair. The man's eyes didn't leave him, and for the first time in a long time, Yoshimura felt truly unnerved. The Regus question was a simple one, but yet one that Yoshimura felt it difficult to answer.

Yoshimura considered his words. "I've come because of the rumors of Apollyon. These are dark times and if this is the center of things that are happening, then help will be needed. I've come to offer that in any way that I can."


Yoshimura was sincere. He knew of his own culture's desire to hide their ambitions, but in reality that's why he was here. If people needed to be focused on one job, that would leave gaps elsewhere. Personnel shifting had to happen in some form or another, Yoshimura was here to help alleviate some of that.

"These are dangerous times. Apollyon has risen, and so have other gods. I've seen and dealt with them. Other creatures are stirring more so than normal and at the heart of it is Moscow and its...leader. I wish to help out as much as I can and in anyway I can, but a sword doesn't tell the hand where to strike."


That is what it really came down to. He was here for direction and guidance. The world was changing, and in some ways, he wasn't ready for that.

[Armande]

Armande's eyes did not leave Yoshimura. Somewhat better, he thought. Not completely honest, but closer. The man circled around his goal, orbiting it as the moon did the earth, careful and reserved. He was aware of the Japanese clan that Yoshimura was from. Tradition ruled. And honor. They lived simply, eschewing many of the trappings of modern life. In some ways, that was good.

Yoshimura would not be Jacinda Cross, bending a stiff neck to work with others and follow his orders. But that did not mean there were no impediments. And the First Order of the High Canticle was the foundation, the bedrock upon which the others would be built, upon which their mission would be carried out.

He looked to his terminal and with a few taps brought up the man's record. It took only seconds to scan it and commit it to memory. He was impressive, that much was clear. His gaze returned to the younger man, searching.

"Your...exploits are commendable," his choice of wording deliberate. "You get the job done. It is clear you find honor in your work." He tilted his head slightly. "You put down a fellow hunter when you realized he was a reborn god. And then his brother, though he displayed none of the same traits. How do you reconcile your actions and your honor?"

[Yoshimura]

Yoshimura wasn't surprised by the question, but wasn't sure he had anticipated it. This was feeling like a test. The answers he gave had importance. Of course the truth was the way to answer. Yoshimura hadn't done anything wrong by killing Yoshiro. It had been necessary.

"There is honor in doing one's duty. I did what had to be done."
Yoshimura's tone was matter of fact and held no remorse. "Yoshiro, the brother, was still a danger despite not having god powers himself. It could have been passed to his offspring. He understood this and submitted himself. Had he not - in the end his fate would have been the same."


Yoshimura sat back in his chair, still not meeting the Regus' gaze. A moment of silence intervened before Yoshimura continued. "My actions were necessary. I did my duty - there is nothing dishonorable in that."
Yoshimura kept his tone low and matter of fact. His answer was true and stated how he had felt at the time and presently.

[Armande]

Armande Nicodemus studied the man as he spoke, continuing to note how he refused to meet his gaze. The Regus had traveled the world in his lifetime, had studied with and lived among numerous tribes and peoples. All had their different forms of respect, of dealing with each other. Men, in particular. Agreed upon rules of comportment and honor. He didn't find Yoshimura's refusal insulting.

The man's responses were matter of fact and held no remorse. His eyebrow quirked slightly when he finished. "The man did not protest. You did him honor, as much as one like him deserves." He leaned forward, eyes hardening, demanding that they meet his. "I am not a fool. I know what you want. Ambition can be the fire that motivates us. Or it can burn us up from the inside out, leaving an empty husk at the mercy of the cruel winds. You commendably keep your fire in check. You find honor in your work, as you should. But you yourself said it. The sword does NOT direct the hand. The man wielding the sword is the source of honor."

His eyes flicked to the man's weapons. "Your tools will not be those. Those cursed reborn gods do not fence and spar. They do not fight one to one. Those you have encountered have been little more than children, their use of the power more accident than intent. Apollyon has easily dispatched our hunters without being in the slightest amount of danger." His fingers tapped at his computer for a moment and an image appeared on the display. "THIS is what we face!" He watched the man's face searchingly as the video played, looking for his reaction. He stifled the rage and bile that threatened to overwhelm him as the sounds of the carnage filled the room. He had been within only meters of the this "man", this Michael Vellas, in that bookstore. The destruction wrought by this lone god was incredible.

The sounds of gunfire and blasts stopped with finality, leaving a defeaning silence. "This is what we are to fight. Mankind won once before, the Dedicated Remnant, the Atharii, leading the charge. The cost was high, so very high, but we paid it. And today, the fight comes anew. There will be blood, an ocean of it. The tools we will use may not seem honorable to some." His gaze shifted to the frozen image of the distant figure of Vellas on the windswept grounds of the Middle East. "But it will be necessary. We will DO what is necessary."

His eyes shifted back to Yoshimura, his voice steely quiet. "So I will ask you once. Will the sword strike mercilessly and true? Will it do all the hand directs, no matter the price?"

[Yoshimura]

When the Regus leaned forward, Yoshimura felt his own gaze pull up to meet the Regus' steel eyes. As the Regus spoke, Yoshimura could not look away. It was strange to him, but the eyes demanded his focus, and Yoshimura couldn't disobey.

Regus said his swords wouldn't be his tools and soon his meaning was made clear as a video was played on the screen. Surprise hit Yoshimura's eyes. He had never seen anything like it before. When it ended, silence permeated in the room, and Yoshimura turned back to face the Regus as he began speaking again.

It was a war - a war that many didn't know existed. The cost would be high again, but the cost was much higher if they didn't do their duty. The methods might be less than honorable. It was something that Yoshimura wasn't sure about, but as he thought about it, he realized that for the greater good, sacrifices must be made.

"So I will ask you once. Will the sword strike mercilessly and true? Will it do all the hand directs, no matter the price?" the Regus' words were quiet.

In the minutes that Yoshimura had been in this room, the Regus had challenged his beliefs and traditions. The images from the video had not left his mind. Tradition was a good thing, but in these times, it had to be changed. His swords would be useless against that monster and others like him. Yoshimura, however had to enter the modern world. It was something he wasn't sure he was ready for, but he didn't have time to get ready. The gods wouldn't wait and thus he couldn't afford to.

The thoughts happened in less than a few seconds. Yoshimura still met the man's gaze - a slight change to show that he had accepted the necessity of change. "It will."
Yoshimura's choice of words was deliberate. He knew his place - he was a weapon.

[Armande]

Armande regarded him for a moment, measuring his sincerity. Satisfied, he at last spoke. "Very well. Welcome to the Order of the Archangels." After his dismissal, he sat back and closed his eyes.

Armande Nicodemus felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, though he did not allow it to show. Cross and Yoshimura were very different hunters. Effective, true, but not without their challenges to deal with. But that could be said of the best hunters who survived into their later years, including Barovsky and Halverssen. One learned to trust one's own intuition, their own instincts and methodologies.

As he himself did. He did not bend to others. They bent to his will. But he was not a fool. What he was creating would be larger than all of them. It would become the Heart of the Atharim, carrying on their work and spirit through the ages. For the Order to be effective, it needed to be fluidic, adaptive and responsive. Rigidity and ossification would destroy it before it began. He had wanted the best. But their being the best was as much about their minds as their bodies. More so. He would use that.

This First Order was just the beginning. Once the team was in place, trained and working smoothly, they each would form the seed for the others. In his mind's eye he saw it, his army organized into divisions, captained effectively, using the strengths of their members, each endlessly adaptive and responsive to the needs of the mission. And at the top, he would sit, directing the war, the goals of each battle, of each mission, of each skirmish.

The war was coming. It had been foretold. Atharim writings were clear, the warning echoing in the ancient writings of various religions and their eschatology myths. Armageddon. Ragnarok. The end of the Hindu Kali Yuga. The Zoroastrian Frashokereti. The gods would return, the end heralded by one being. Apollyon. The Demon Kali. Ahriman.

But mankind would not be caught unaware. They would be ready. The Regus of the Atharim would make sure of that.

[Yoshimura]

Yoshimura accepted the position and bowed when dismissed. His meeting with the Regus had surprised him. Until a few moments before he hadn't really realized that he wanted to be in the Order of the Archangels. The Regus had opened his mind to that.

He was left with a lot to think about. His code of honor and all of his traditions were important to him, but some of those ideas he was setting aside for the greater good. Not all would have to be sacrificed, only those that kept him from doing his job to the best of his ability. Yoshimura was still proud of his heritage and that wouldn't go away.

Yoshimura was being sent to fight gods though. This goal superseded everything. He had to do what he had to do, and with the Regus as the hand directing the blade, Yoshimura had confidence. Soon it would begin.