abstract
| - The battle rages all around. Metal clangs against metal, harquebus howl in deafening explosions, men cry the agony of their mortal wounds. Kato Katsuro's heart beats in his eyes. His senses grow painfully sharp. The bright red blood of fallen warriors screams out at him. The smell of sweat and gun powder fills his nose and mouth. This is what he lives for. The action swarming about him is a symphony of his composition. Suddenly an enemy breaks through Katsuro's elite samurai guard, a note he did not compose. The screaming warrior bears down with his sword. Kato quickly blocks and kicks the man backwards. A flash burns across Katsuro's peripheral. His heart jumps into his throat. In the split of an instant he feels death falling upon him. In that same instant the sun blinks out of the sky. The thrumming sound of constant battle goes silent. Everything is suddenly still. Kato turns his head slowly to his right. A sword hovers, frozen, inches from his face. He steps away from the blade's edge, bewildered as he scans the horizon. Time itself has come to a halt. Everything, everyone, ever face, perfectly still in the dim light of the overcast sun. Looking upward Kato Katsuro sees that, unlike everything under it, the sky does not stand still. A swirling tempest of black clouds churns violently above. At the whirling center of the storm the sky suddenly breaks open and a blindingly bright light streams down, engulfing Kato in its glow. Out of the break descends a bronze-skinned man with wings like a great hawk. The man touches a hand to his temple and Kato feels the earth fall out from beneath his feet. He is being pulled upward, but the feeling does not frighten him, instead his heart is filled with an overwhelming peace. Kato removes his helmet and mask, revealing his young and rugged face. He reaches out and takes hold of the winged-man's outstretched hand. Together they fly upward, into the light, and into another world.
|