A BinaryTears (pathetic) attempt to extend Hibiki's brilliant 'Gray Saga', a fanfiction based on the http://megatokyo.com/ online comic. The original Gray Saga is here: http://forums.megatokyo.com/index.php?showtopic=1713936 http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3076871/1/ Feeling Gray 20070509 <"Here you are Lieutenant, your tea. Are you staying late?"> <"Thank you, yes, it looks like I'll be here a while longer. Reports to read. There's no need for you to stay back. See you tomorrow. Hope the weather improves, at least for the Zogu rampage in the afternoon."> <"Yes, rain like this spoils even the best rampages, doesn't it? Well, I'm off then. Bye!"> Police Lieutenant Sonada contemplates the cup of steaming tea for a moment after his assistant leaves his office. It will be too hot to drink for a while. Too hot... Like these reports here, and their familiar ring, he knows that temperature well. All those years ago, and now he hears that familiar, discordant note again. Seventeen years ago... He's seen some weird things in that time, but nothing like the days when a pair of misfit Americans were on the loose in MegaTokyo. Real live zombies, and the near breakdown of the Sony-Sega truce, over that rogue EDS prototype, of all things. How did those two manage to combine so many potential problems into one huge, snowballing mess? They even contrived to drag The Miho into it, somehow, and that... well, he could waste all evening thinking about the troubles that caused him, without even getting started on what happened with Yuki. He knows that feeling well, and he's feeling it again now. Largo. He can sense Largo's hand in these event reports he's reading. Most of it was Largo's doing; the other one, the timid blond, only seemed to play a minor part in the disasters. Largo and Erika... he'd known they would be Trouble Together, the moment he realised their paths were intersecting. That sinking feeling, as he'd stared at them side by side, her standing next to Largo in that ridiculous muffin kart he'd stolen somewhere. He recalls the moment vividly, along with the feeling of knowing he was seeing destiny. Or Doom, more likely. He'd applied for a doubling of his budget that very day, fought it through, and it still hadn't been enough. Strangely though, he doesn't feel quite the same now. These reports, from far off places; is it the distance? Or the distance of time? It's hard to define... a kind of wistful... sadness. There was potential for much good in Largo too, he had to admit. Even though there were strong indications Largo somehow instigated that whole zombie invasion thing, his bizarre but critical role in defeating the zombie second invasion couldn't be denied. Despite the zombie force's impeccable permit paperwork. Bizarre... that certainly sums up the Largo effect. So he knows that at least some elements of these otherwise far-fetched reports are probably factual. Even if it does sound like the international intelligence agencies have collectively taken leave of their senses, or are hallucinating or something. These events they describe... with the only links being common references to involvement of a red-haired 'lunatic' computer whiz, and a stunningly beautiful Japanese female accomplice. Now here Worldcom Cataclysm Division are urgently requesting any information subsidiary agencies may possess on these two. He flips through the reports again on his desk screen, summarising in his mind as the rain sleets against his window glass beyond the screen. * Black market brain enhancing computer implants, improvised from washing machine CPUs and mobile phone parts, totally lacking in any of the mandatory intellectual property control and security service backdoor measures standardised (by international treaty) in all commercial PCs. Do it yourself kits and instructions spreading on the net, despite extreme official countermeasures. * An underground multiplayer VR computer game and encrypted, stego-cloaked p2p network that together have brought down four corrupt governments. Four so far... Agents attempting to infiltrate the game either vanish without report, or return only the briefest information about a 'swashbuckling fearless hero', before they, too, vanish. One screen capture of this game avatar available. Hmm... looks familiar. * Unprecedented rise of worldwide 'Freaks United' (FU) youth movement - some kind of synthesis of Red Brigades and Flash Mobs, led by a mysterious and charismatic Asian woman, known only by her powerful and untraceable net presence and the nic LEX. Some vague links between this group, and the game. And the brain chips. * Something about a 'cardboard shadow army', that is striking terror into US Homeland Security. So far over 9000 of the universally hated DHS 'blackjackets' have died in mysterious circumstances, as if killed by ridiculous cardboard 'bots' always found nearby. There are serious government discussions on banning cardboard. And shadows... He looks up, out over the MegaTokyo skyline, through the rain drifting in veils before the wind. There is not much more to do here, he may as well go home, rain or not. They never were able to fix the canopy seal leak in the Mech. Meimi wants him to pick up some supplies on his way home tonight, and you try climbing down from a Mech while holding an umbrella, and up into it holding an umbrella _and_ shopping bags. Now he knows what that feeling is. Sadness. Meimi doesn't get out much any more. It's been years since she indulged in her quirky 'free shopping' habit. He smiles wistfully, remembering how he'd deal with that when she'd let him catch her doing it. Which he always knew was why she did it in the first place, and she knew he knew, but to say so would have entirely spoilt the fun. Not as if they couldn't afford to buy as many steak knives as she wanted, on his salary. Ah Meimi. He is so lucky to have her, still. But time cools the blood, leaving only comfortable warmth; no fire or magic. From these reports, is seems that crazy Largo and Erika pair are still flaming brightly across the sky, somewhere in the world. Who is he to say they are not doing good? Clicking the 'Reply: no matches in our files' response, he turns back to the window, sighing. At least this one is less likely to come back to haunt him. Unlike the times he'd had to smooth over Yuki's less well considered exploits, before she learnt to act with discretion. Thank god she isn't mixed up with that Largo and Erika pair! Just her intermittent contacts with the Miho anomaly alone are sending his hair gray already. At least she finally got over her crush on the blond American boy, and is seeing a respectable fellow. Perhaps its time to have a chat with him, find out his intentions. Tell him a few things about dealing with shoplifting. Wind blows drops against the tinted glass of his 85th floor office, streaking and blurring the twilight view, colorless in the misting rain despite the attempted cheer of neon across the skyline. Blowing over his still too-hot tea, he considers his city, and his memories. A small cooling warmth held familiar in his hand; a world of cold rain and strangeness. He feels old. Old and gray. When he finishes the tea, he will go.