Early the next day, when even the air smelled cleaner after the storm that had passed, Kenji Murakami woke up and stretched. Even after three and a half years of the same, sleeping outside still made Kenji sore sometimes. So as he stretched, Kenji also tried to work the kinks out of his muscles.

He was mostly successful. Once he had worked most of the aches and soreness out of his body, Kenji heard the sound of someone walking in the woods. Kenji had long ago learned to recognize just this kind of sound. Not sure if this was one of the people that his dad wanted him to avoid, Kenji pulled the raincoat back up over his head and tried to be as quiet as he possibly could.

As he listened closer, Kenji realized that the footsteps were coming his way. Breathing as quietly as he was able to, Kenji hoped that whoever was coming would just pass him by. He hadn’t been out in the storm for very long, but Kenji also hadn’t gotten a very good sleep last night. There had been something rustling around outside the tent late last night.

Kenji had heard it when he’d woken up. It had made him nervous, and he’d stayed more still than was usual for him. Normally, when Kenji woke up in the middle of the night, he’d spend a lot of time tossing and turning, trying to get back into a comfortable position so he could fall back to sleep. But lying there, listening to whoever or whatever it was making all that noise, Kenji had frozen.

Now that he was awake enough to reflect on it, Kenji just thought it was some animal scuffling around. Not that that was less of a reason to stay quiet. Kenji had no more desire to be eaten by a wild animal than he had to be taken away from his father by Chronos. Sighing softly, Kenji noticed that the footsteps still hadn’t gone away.

If anything, they were louder now than they had been before. Just as Kenji was about to start looking for a weapon, he heard something that made him forget all of his earlier worries.

"Kenji? Kenji, are you awake yet?"

Jumping to the forefront of his tent so fast that he seemed to teleport, Kenji unzipped the front flap and stuck his head out.

"Dad! I didn’t think you’d be back so soon," Kenji grinned up at his father. "Is there any special reason?"

"Two, actually," Masaki said, as he sat down on the still-drying grass. "I heard that storm last night, it sounded like a bad one. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, dad, I’m fine," Kenji nodded, crawling out of the tent and coming to sit down in front of his dad. "It wasn’t as bad as some of the others I’ve been through."

Masaki sighed. "So you’re really all right? You’re not just saying that?"

"Dad, I’m fine," Kenji smiled calmly, cerulean eyes giving no lie to his words. "Now, what was the other thing you wanted to tell me?"

"Actually, I wanted to ask you something."

"What?"

Masaki seemed to be considering just what he was going to say next. "Kenji, you remember how I always told you that the only people we could really trust were each other? That anyone could be a Zoanoid in disguise?"

"Yeah dad, I remember all that."

"Well, I found some people that I know aren’t Zoanoids. And I was wondering if you would like to meet them. Maybe even stay with them, if you want." And if I can manage to break the idea to them in a way that even Makashima will agree to it.

"You mean stay in a real house, with other people?"

"Yes Kenji," Masaki smiled at his son’s unhidden excitement. "A log cabin, in fact. We’ll still be moving around a lot, but at least we’d be together again."

Kenji looked as if he was holding back a jubilant cheer by force of will alone. "Really? You mean I’d never have to go back to this tent? Not ever?"

"Not ever," Masaki smiled warmly, reassuring Kenji that everything would go well. I’m sure Sho and Tetsuro will be okay with the idea. Mizuki too. I’m not really sure how Shizu will react, or the old man. And Makashima… Masaki turned his head slightly, glaring at nothing in particular. If Makashima wanted to make an issue out of Kenji’s staying with them, then Masaki would gladly introduce Guyver III to his fist.

"Can I come with you?"

Masaki thought that over. "No. I really think it’s best that you stay here. I’ve always been known to travel alone. And there are still people who might be Zoanoids out here. I’ll tell them about you, and then I’ll bring them to meet you."

"Okay," Kenji nodded. "That sounds good, dad."

"I’m glad you think so," Masaki smiled, ruffling Kenji’s hair one last time, before turning to leave.

Kenji, for his part, got up and walked back into his tent. Zipping it shut once he was fully inside, Kenji took a moment to wonder just what these new people his dad wanted him to meet would be like.

xXxXx

Reholt Gyou, one of the twelve Chronos Overlords and sole survivor of the destruction of Chronos Japan’s secondary base, made his way into the upper level of Relics Point. He intended to make another inquiry into the status of Dr. Shirai’s research into the Unit Remover. It had been his pet project, a secret from the other eleven Overlords, ever since the Guyver units had been discovered.

It was Gyou’s intention to someday possess one of the Guyvers, preferably the one that Agito Makashima had activated, if only for the sake of irony. He would show that traitor what it meant to arouse the wrath of a Zoalord. Zeus, I should have suspected, Gyou groused. The rebellious son of the god Chronos. I should have known it was Makashima the moment he said that.

Gyou remembered that he had been fairly well versed in ancient mythology, not a scholar by any stretch of the imagination, but he had known more than most of the people who had been close to him. It was most embarrassing for someone who had prided himself on having that kind of knowledge to be thrown off by something that simple. But then, there had been a battle going on at the time.

Fukamachi’s Guyver had somehow managed to regenerate itself from the Control Medal alone, and Guyver I had been doing a great deal of damage to Chronos Japan’s secondary headquarters. Maybe that had been the reason that Gyou hadn’t been able to figure out Makashima’s oblique reference. Yes, that had to be it.

The odd symbol on the lower right-hand corner of the screen caught Gyou’s eye then. It was flashing, and so Gyou sat down to see what it was. Clicking on the icon, Gyou found that it brought up a video clip. The video itself was timestamped; whatever had been recorded had happened merely twenty minutes ago.

As Gyou watched, he began to smile. Masaki Murakami, another man who had been a nuisance to the Chronos Corporation, and one who had been known to have been a family man. The wife had been a confirmed kill, and the son had been believed to have died in the collapse of a building that one of Gyou’s own Zoanoid teams had brought down. There had in fact been reports of a longhaired man stumbling out of a collapsed building.

The Zoanoids that Gyou had sent had also reported the small bundle of bloodstained cloth that Murakami had been carrying. It had been very easy at that time to surmise that the blood-soaked remains of Murakami’s son had been covered by all that cloth. But, now that Gyou thought about it, he saw how easy it would have been for Murakami to spill some of his own blood on those sheets.

The only thing Gyou really wondered about now was how this new discovery could be used to his own advantage. Perhaps the Unit Remover can wait for a few hours. Gyou smiled coldly. Yes, the situation clearly merited closer investigation. Getting up from the computer terminal, Gyou quickly erased the video from the Chronos mainframe, along with all the records of it having been made.

No sense in leaving any loose ends, after all. Walking back to the elevator that would take him up and out of Relics Point, Gyou quickly scanned for any Zoanoids that were out patrolling the forest. Locating a pair of Ramochis and a small group of Gregole, Gyou stepped into the elevator. Commanding all of them to meet up with him, Gyou teleported out of the elevator and into the forest itself.

Once outside, Gyou could tell that all the Zoanoids he had called were beginning to gather. In a few minutes they had all assembled. Looking through their minds, Gyou found that one of the Ramochis had been the one to plant the camera, on orders of Dr. Balkus, that had given Gyou the means to strike another blow against Murakami.

"Ramochis, you will take me to that tent where you found the boy," Gyou ordered.

"Yes, Commander Gyou."

You’ve gotten careless, Murakami, Gyou laughed to himself. And you are about to learn again just why you should never have started this foolish rebellion in the first place. As Gyou followed Ramochis to the part of the forest where Murakami’s son stayed, he again considered what he was going to do when he got there.

I suppose, though, that I can always… wing it, as the humans seem to be so fond of saying. Gyou chuckled aloud this time, not caring what the Zoanoids around him made of the sound.

xXxXx

As he made his way back to the cabin, Masaki tried again to think of just how he was going to bring up the idea of his son staying at the cabin with the rest of them. And how to even bring up the fact that he had a son in the first place. Then again, it’s late enough in the morning that everyone will probably be awake by now. Maybe I can just tell them about him first. I’ll see how they react, and then I’ll know what else to say.

Masaki nodded to himself; it wasn’t the most elaborate plan, but it was much better than doing nothing. Walking through the forest, taking the same kind of elaborate, winding non-trail that had become almost routine for him, Masaki hoped again that Sho, Mizuki and the others would be open to what he was going to propose. Masaki could just see the cabin now, as he made it through the last stand of trees in his way.