The forest around Kenji’s tent was darker than Masaki remembered it being, and this was even with the sun still clearly in the sky. The shadows under the trees almost seemed alive, and even his enhance vision somehow wasn’t able to penetrate them. All of these things combined to give Masaki a very unsettling feeling as he made his way back to Kenji’s tent. There was something he was supposed to be remembering right now, but for the life of him Masaki couldn’t think what it was.

"Dad! Dad!"

"Kenji? Where are you?!"

"Dad!"

"Kenji!"

Masaki looked around frantically. Kenji’s voice had sounded panicked. But all he could see were the oddly writhing shadows under the trees and the eerily dark sky.

"Kenji! I can’t find you!"

"Dad! Help me!"

Suddenly, Kenji’s calls were cut off. Masaki could still hear his son’s muffled cries, but the words were no longer intelligible. Masaki didn’t waste any time thinking about it, he just took off at a dead-run. The trees were green-and-brown blurs to either side of him as Masaki put his full Proto-Zoalord enhanced-speed to good use. But still, no matter how fast he ran there always seemed to more trees in his path.

Finally he came to a clearing. But standing in the clearing next to the kneeling, shivering form of his only son was the one person who Masaki hated most in the world: Reholt Gyou, Regional Commander of the Chronos Corporation. Kenji’s arms were wrapped around himself and he was rocking back and forth, both sure signs of Kenji’s extreme distress. Gyou, the miserable son of a venereal bitch, was actually looking down at Kenji with amusement.

Masaki wanted nothing more than to kill him, preferably as slowly and painfully as would be possible.

"What have you done to my son, you motherfucking bastard?!" Masaki demanded, his voice raw with hatred.

Gyou only turned to look down at Kenji, his amusement even more pronounced. Kenji slowly stood up, and Masaki noticed that there was a thin trail of blood running out of the right side of his son’s mouth. Masaki realized then that he couldn’t see Kenji’s eyes, his bangs were too short to cover them but somehow the eyes themselves were still in shadow. Kenji took a shaky step forward as blood continued to drip off of his chin.

His ragged breathing became all too apparent to Masaki then, and the way he stumbled as he tried to walk made it obvious that there was something very wrong with his Kenji’s body. Masaki felt as if cold hands had been plunged into his chest and were now wrapped tightly around his heart as he watched Kenji struggle forward. Masaki wanted to beg Kenji to stop, to tell Kenji that he was sick and to let Masaki help him.

But he knew now that Kenji was beyond all help; Masaki was remembering at last that his son – his precious little boy – had been taken by that bastard Gyou into Mt. Minakami. What was standing in front of him wasn’t even his son anymore, not really, it was just some Zoanoid who looked like him for the moment. Masaki could see the glow in Gyou’s eyes and he knew better than most what it meant, but it was still hard to have to watch the transformation happening to someone he knew.

Even watching Gray and Evans change hadn’t affected him this way, but that was because Masaki had long ago accepted the fact that Chronos was capable of taking anyone and everyone close to him and changing them into a Zoanoid without warning. But with Kenji it had been different, Kenji was the one person that Masaki had sworn to protect above all others, the one person that Masaki had never believed could be taken by Chronos. Chronos, after all, had never seemed to have any interest in children. Least of all someone Kenji’s age.

That was what Masaki had always believed, or it had been up until the point where he’d come back to find the destroyed remains of Kenji’s tent scattered all over the forest floor. There were claws just starting to sprout from the ends of Kenji’s fingers now, and Masaki could see the white fur that was staring to grow in waves up and down Kenji’s arms and legs. Then came a sound Masaki would never be able to forget: the sound of flesh tearing and bones being broken.

This was the same sound that had let Masaki know that part of his life was over, this was the sound that Masaki had learned to recognize and to hate, this was the sound of a Zoanoid being born. But this time there came another sound, one that sounded like thick cardboard being repeatedly torn in half. Watching in horror, somehow not able to do anything more than that, Masaki saw Kenji’s body literally tear itself apart from the inside out.

Kenji’s skin was the last part to give way, tearing like thin mesh as blood-soaked muscle tissue was forced apart by the growth of bones that were never supposed to exist in a human body. Kenji was dying in front of his eyes and all that Masaki could do was watch in helpless fury. As the last of Kenji’s mangled wreck of a body fell to the ground, Masaki watched the remains disintegrate. Like all Zoanoids did when they were killed. The skull, ribcage and pelvic bone collapsed in on themselves, and Masaki saw the last of his son’s blood ooze away into the ground.

"Young children are always so very… fragile," Gyou said, sounding more amused than anything by what he had just seen.

Masaki, finally free of his paralysis, lunged forward. Both hands outstretched and ready to strangle the son of a bitch, Masaki aimed for Gyou’s throat and charged…


 
 
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