It was a mountain none of them had ever seen before. A cragged and rocky tor made for rough footing in the freezing wind that whipped brutally around each tired and worn figure. The wind was like glass piercing trembling flesh as they inched towards the vision in front of them.

A spirit stood before them, gazing with wise and gentle eyes upon the assembled company of strangers.  Visible but strangely transparent, the male ghost moved his gaze around each person huddling from the bitter cold.  He wore a white jumpsuit and his asian countenance was merciful and kind. He seemed to exude a confidence that had all the strangers inching towards him.

Seven people from seven different nations who had never known each other before had found themselves transported to this place at the same time. Some weren’t even wearing footwear and were cursing as they tried to scale the jagged rocks before them.

Soon, they stood together, forming a loose circle around the spirit as he gestured for them to sit on the rocks.  He sat himself, crossing his legs and observing them keenly. His gaze was strange and intense, as if he had been waiting for this moment for centuries.  

“Do you remember what happened to you all?” The ghost asked, his voice calm and serene.

Mumbles of confusion and shaking heads confirmed what he had feared. He looked at each person intently.

“I remember.”  A stern Russian accent wafted over the gathered assembly and all heads turned at once.  A young blonde man with bright blue eyes began to redden at the sudden interest. He wore a military suit called a Gorka-3, in a two-toned green pattern.  His eyes were shockingly clear under his plain olive cap. “At least, I think I remember.”

“Go on, Andrei.” The spirit encouraged gently. “Tell us and maybe the mist of the forgotten will rise from the minds of all gathered here.”

“I was on a training exercise south of Surgut. I had an accident, a bad one. I remember finding it hard to breathe.  There were many faces above me but I found it hard to focus. Then, darkness fell over me and everything went out … like a candle flame snuffed by fingers in a dark void.” Andrei explained. His voice was shaking slightly with fear as he remembered the pain and the terror he had felt.

“You died, Andrei.” The ghost prompted with a small, gentle smile. “You all died at the same time but something intervened and so here you all are in your physical forms from a past life.  Do you remember now?”

The assembly all turned to one another, deeply uncomfortable.

“Yeah, I … I remember.” A dark-skinned young American nodded. He was sat precariously on a jagged rock with his feet dangling from the edge.  His accent was a mixture between Brooklyn and Boston Brahmin, an explosion of common and upper class that seemed almost impossible. Yet, it sounded completely normal when he spoke.  Almost as if he had achieved a new dialect on his own.

He wore a fancy tuxedo with a blue silk tie and a red sash tied around his middle.  The sash was as out of place as his voice yet he displayed the most calm in the whole group. His black hair spun ringlets close to his forehead that glistened beautifully.

“Chance. Please … explain to the group what you remember.” The spirit nodded towards the young man and gave a slight smile. “If you are brave enough.”

Chance bristled at the ghost’s words as if he were challenging his courage. “I was working in New York when I got hit from behind. It happened quick.”

“Is that all you wish to share?” The spirit smiled knowingly.

“Hey, who the hell are you anyway? Did you bring us here?” Chance’s deflection of the previous question was noted by the whole group.

“My name is Tao-Hiroto and I am your spirit guide.” Hiroto explained with a slight smile towards a suddenly shaken Japanese male in his mid thirties. “I am here to help and assist you in discovering your purpose.”

“You cannot be a Tao.” The Japanese man insisted firmly, his voice shaken. “You cannot be Tao-Hiroto!”

Hiroto looked fondly towards the shaken man and gave a slight smile. “If you are truly dead then anything is possible. Even one’s ancestor’s returning from the other side to assist you …. Tao-Kana.”

Kana, the trembling Japanese man had turned pale with fear. “It cannot be. You cannot be my ancestor, Hiroto!”

It was only then that the assembled group began to see the similarities between spectre and man, the bright eyes of both wearing the same ancestry like badges of honour.  However, that was where the similarities stopped. Kana was slightly built with a stern expression, whilst Hiroto was much bigger and wore gentleness like a warm kimono. Although it was obvious they were related, they were so different in personality.

“You cannot be Hiroto!” Kana leapt to his feet and walked away from the group to stand at the edge of a precipice with arms folded. He looked magnificent standing there, his robes blowing in the wind.  His robes were loose fitting but elegant, black in colour like the mop of hair on his head. There were distinct patterns carved just under the shoulders. Hiroto had the same pattern etched into  the robe on his left breast. It seemed more and more like a family crest.

“Let him be,” Hiroto nodded gravely. “He is yet to come to terms with the way he died.”

“I can’t remember anything.” A young woman confessed in a small voice. Every head swivelled to look at her, even Kana glanced across from his precipice to assess her. “I’m sorry.”

“Beautiful Patty,” Hiroto beamed. “Our English Rose from Yorkshire. It does not matter that you cannot remember.”

Patty looked uncomfortable among the assembly. With her dark red hair cropped short into a pixie and slightly overweight she had the distinct feeling that she did not belong with these other strangers.  She wore riding boots and a loose tartan jacket that was zipped up tight. “Isn’t it important that I remember?”

“Yes, but not for now. For now we talk to those who can remember.” Hiroto nodded gently towards Patty with a reassuring smile.

“Do not be ashamed. For I do not remember, either.” A beautiful Chinese woman just south of thirty spoke up in agreement. “I do not remember anything at all.”

“Ling, please pretty child. It does not matter that you cannot remember right now. It was as I feared; the females can not remember.” Hiroto reassured.

Eyes swivelled to the last female of the group, a woman in her mid-twenties who looked uncomfortable to be the centre of attention. Instead of answering the unasked question, she simply looked away, hugging her knees to her chest. Her long dark hair rippled down her shoulders, covering her face from the onlookers.

“Stunning Parina remembers nothing.” Hiroto explained. “It is as it must be.”

Mikel, a rugged handsome Australian with brown hair and tanned features lifted his hand to gain attention. “I remember. Streuth, I’d just planted a bomb near an illegal training camp for terrorists. I guess it blew me right up?”

Hiroto nodded gravely. “Mikel … you complete our family. The sixth member of the team.”

“If we’re all dead, how can we still be here?” Mikel asked, his voice raised in concern and disbelief.

“Something greater than you know has decided it should be so. That you all should come together and unite for a higher purpose.” Hiroto glanced at Kana and sighed. “Many do not have the opportunity that you all have. You should feel blessed.”

“I want to go home.” Parina turned to Hiroto with pleading eyes. “I didn’t die. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Sweet child. You have nothing to fear from any of the assembly here.” Hiroto reassured gently. “There is no going home for any of you. You have one choice left and one alone.”

“We have a choice?” Chance perked up. “What choice?”

“You may choose to remain upon this Earth as vessels for a power greater than you have ever known, righting wrongs and slaying evil. Or you may choose to leave this team and carry on your journey into the here-after.” Hiroto spoke slowly and clearly. “You may choice either option.”

“If we choose to move on …” Kana clarified, “then we cannot come back.”

“Exactly.” Hiroto nodded towards the bristling young man. “Your ancestors await you in a place beyond time, free from the burden of this world’s evil. It is the lighter path to move into that realm, the burdens much lighter. However, you must decide as one. This is your first decision made together, to solidify your bond … or break it forever.”

2: Chapter 2

Hiroto rose to his feet and his image shimmered slightly. “I will leave you all to discuss your options and make this decision.  When it is made, it cannot be unmade. It will stand eternal and only then will you learn the complete nature of the unique powers you now possess. Think hard and I will return when the time is right.”

With that, Hiroto disappeared from before the group as if he had never existed at all. Huddled on rocks and shivering with cold, the assembly looked at each other warily.

“So, I guess we should discuss this. You know, make a choice.” Chance shrugged. “I’ll go with the majority.”

“Do you think we are the first to have been given this choice?” Ling asked, timidly.

“No.” Kana answered. “I do not believe that at all. What I do believe is that if we choose to accept this new responsibility, we will be the first to actually take it on. Many people may have been offered this burden before us.”

“Does he think we’re going to turn it down?” Patty watched the group incredulously with wide, frightened eyes.

“He thinks that we will do as all peoples of different nations have done throughout the centuries.” Ling nodded, a sad smile appearing on her dainty mouth.

Kana nodded. “That we are weak and will not be able to work together.  We are all of different nationalities with different cultures. This is deliberate.”

“I, for one, do not wish to make the weaker choice.” Andrei volunteered. Up until this moment, he had chosen to remain silent.

“Is it really weak? Or is it the safer option?” Parina offered.

“Safe, yes.” Kana closed his eyes. “The one road is safe and paved for our comfort. The other road is a fog-filled land of unknown consequences. It will be infinitely more difficult than choosing the bosom of our ancestors.”

“Then why don’t we just move on? Go be with our families.” Mikel muttered.

“Have you considered what may happen to this planet, to our loved ones who still live within this realm, if we were to leave them vulnerable? If what my ancestor revealed to us is correct, a higher being has stepped in to make this choice possible. If we are chosen, then maybe some great evil will befall Earth if we choose to move on.” Kana explained. “Maybe this evil has been on Earth for many years in different guises.  There have been none willing to fight it before now perhaps because of clash of culture of nations … or just merely selfish personalities were involved.”

“Yes, it is a certainty that there would have been fighting inside the group. A range of cultures has never been assembled in such a unique way.” Ling quietly added.

“The world has been suspicious of other nations for the duration of human history.” Andrei added. “It is little surprise to me that this group may never have been formed in the past with other people. For the world, as brilliant as it is in its entirety, is petty to the core.”

“Petty yes, but there are rare moments of courage which light a path for others.” Kana impressed. “The world may have its issues, but there is more to humanity than small and selfish ambition.”

“That may be so. I believe that there is something worth saving about humanity as a whole. If I can do this, no matter how difficult and miserable a task it may be, then I feel I am obliged to try.” Andrei  folded his arms and looked away. He had made his point and had now retreated back from the discussion with his voice still echoing in their heavy hearts.

“I agree with the Russian.” Kana said softly. “It would be dishonourable not to take this opportunity.”

“Maybe we should take a vote.” Chance offered. “Get a headcount of who wants to do what.”

“All right. Everyone in favour of taking this opportunity, raise your hand now.” Kana instructed, raising his right arm and waiting patiently for the reaction of the others.

Andrei’s left hand shot up instantly. Patty followed, a little more reluctantly and Ling also raised her dainty right arm. Mikel, Parina and Chance had their arms crossed firmly.

“All right. We have four for yes. Do you three wish to move on to your ancestors?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know what we are agreeing to.” Chance objected. “I’ll go with the majority, whatever the decision.”

Mikel shrugged. “Whatever. As long as I go somewhere.”

Parina was crying on a rock, looking thoroughly miserable.  “I’m so afraid.”

“I know.” Kana knelt beside her, his hand resting on her knee gently. “We are with you. You are not alone, Parina.”

Parina smiled for the first time, her hand caressing Kana’s gratefully. “Thank you. I will choose the majority although my heart is inclined to move on and be with the family I have lost.”

“Then the decision has been made.” Kana said aloud. “We have decided, as one, to take this offer. Now, we will learn everything that is secret.”

“Yes.” Hiroto emerged from a swirling rush of leaves and dust. “It will be explained fully to you. As you realised, you will be the first to have taken this choice and chosen this path.”

“Tell us what the path is, Hiroto.” Mikel asked. “We need to know.”

“All will become clear with time,” Hiroto explained. “For now, close your eyes and we will travel back in time together to see your lives as they once were.”

“What do you mean … see our past lives?” Chance asked warily.

“In order to advance as a team you must be sure of your teammates. There is only one way to do that quickly and efficiently. Think of the visions you will receive shortly as an introduction to each other and to the unique talents you possess which allowed you to be chosen.”

“Like a movie reel.” Mikel said.

“Yes, but in your minds eye.  You will see how important each of you is for the team to survive as a unit. For there are different disciplines for which you all excel. All of these form the bases of a martial art that has been diminishing over the centuries.”

“You speak of Ninjutsu as if it were still widely practiced,” Kana scowled. “The mysteries of that martial art are gone forever.”

“Yet, you still help your father in the dojo he runs, Kana. You still respect the lineage from which he originated.” Hiroto raised his eyebrows at his kin. “It may not be pure Ninjutsu; but it has its place In the modern world. It has, as with everything else on this earth, evolved.”

“It is a shadow.” Kana closed his eyes, filled with a great sadness. “Nothing more. Those who traditionally practiced the art have been dead for centuries.”

“That may be so.” Hiroto nodded towards the younger man. “What is lost can always be found once more. You only need a teacher who studied Ninjutsu in its pure form to assist you.”

Kana smiled. “That would be you, Hiroto? I have studied my family lineage. You were the last true Ninja, were you not?”

Hiroto nodded. “I studied under a great master hundreds of years ago. I learned eighteen disciplines and, throughout my own lifetime, mastered them all.”

“We would be your students.” Kana nodded, his eyes grave.

“You already mastered three disciplines each in your past life, Kana. I only seek to unite you all, help you to form a unit that will work together.  You will all learn from each other as we progress; but first … let me show you the visions I spoke of earlier.” Hiroto explained.

Kana nodded and sat down on a rock, pulling his legs together and sitting in a meditative pose. “Very well, ancestor. Show us these visions.”

“Remember that visions do not cover an entire life story. They are only meant for a deeper understanding.” Hiroto cautioned. “Close your eyes, young disciples. I will transport your minds to the stories of your past lives.”

The assembly closed their eyes, and almost immediately, a flood of images began to assault them. They seemed vague and insubstantial at first, quickly taking shape and form until they were solid. They could see a newborn being delivered in an overcrowded hospital.   Faces were now completely clear as they observed the scenes played in their minds like a movie.

There was panic in the hospital.

Something had gone very wrong.

3: Chapter 3

“I’m sorry. We did everything we could.” The doctor spoke gently to a young man with a broad Yorkshire accent. “We saved the child …. but the mother died from a massive heart attack.”

“I told you to save my wife, to let the child die.” The young man spat angrily.

“There wasn’t such a choice to be made. Sometimes these things happen. I’m so sorry.” The doctor walked away and the young man was left on his own, trembling and crying.

“Do you want to see her?” An older nurse asked and the man shook his head in a rage.

“Want to see it? The thing that killed my wife? No!”

“She’s your daughter. She’s innocent. She didn’t kill your wife.” The nurse was becoming a little heated. Did the young man have no heart? Didn’t he see how much the infant needed him?

“I’m leaving. I have to be in Dubai for a board meeting.” The young man turned around and attempted to flee the hospital.

The older nurse lay a restraining hand on his left arm. “Who will take this child home?”

“I have someone coming. She is a well-paid substitute for Veronica.  I will never lay eyes on this cancer, ever!” With that, the man left in a red, hazy mist of fury.

The older nurse couldn’t keep the tears from her eyes as she watched the departing man in disbelief. Humanity was cruel and vicious at times. This newborn was not to blame for anything at all.

 

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A young girl was playing with a pony in a vast field.  Sun streamed down as both of them bolted around, the pony dancing happily by her side.

“Patricia! Patricia! Where are you? Lunch is ready!”

“Coming, Auntie Anna.” Patty bolted back to the farmhouse she called home and cuddled Anna upon arrival.

“You tyke, Patricia. How is Henry today?” Anna lay the table and Patty sat down, chattering about her favourite pony.   Anna half-listened to the stream of almost incomprehensible excitement with a slight smile on her face.

“Anna. Why don’t I call you mum?” Patty suddenly asked. “All the other kids at school do.”

Anna sighed. She had been dreading this moment ever since Patty could talk. It wasn’t the kind of conversation you normally had with children, but she couldn’t deny the truth any longer.

“I’m not your mum, Patty.  Not your birth mum. I love you and care for you like a mum. I always will.” Anna smiled gently at the child trying to make sense of this new information.

Patty shrugged. “Okay, then.”

She was no more than seven years old.

 

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A girl of twelve with deep red hair played alone in the school playground.

“Patty, no mum, no mates.”

Chanting all around her.

It wasn’t just the fact that she hadn’t got a mother. Kids hated Patty because she was rich and rode horses. She kept herself to herself and locked her mind safely away within a fantasy world.  She had never met her father, although Anna reminded her that he was the one that kept them living in luxury and that he was a brilliant entrepreneur who had made billions.

Patty didn’t know what billions meant.

She did know that she loved horses. They were uncomplicated and fun to ride. She had graduated to full size horses only recently, although she still loved Henry. He was getting older though, and no longer bounded around with endless energy.

It was when Patty was punched by a couple of young boys that she asked to learn self-defence.  The only teacher in their borough was a jujitsu master who ran a local dojo for adults.

Anna approached him and asked him to take Patty on, whatever the cost.  Money was no object. Patty needed a good teacher who would quickly teach her the basics and help her overcome the bullies. He agreed and resolved to teach Patty two things from that moment on – unarmed combat and staff fighting.

Patty was a natural at martial arts and flourished under Master Joe. He became a much-needed father figure and she excelled in her lessons which made him extremely proud.  By the time she reached eighteen years of age she had qualified for her black belt and was one of the youngest and most dynamic martial artists of her age.

She was entering competitions for both horse riding and martial arts when she was struck down with a mystery illness at twenty.  Gone were the days of medals and winning frenzies. Patty found it hard to even get out of bed some days and slept a lot of the time.

Anna was frantic as Patty became weaker and weaker, no matter what the pricey doctors tried. They had run tests on her, finding her positive for Lyme Disease, but finding nothing else to explain the rapid decline in health. She was given antibiotics and other medicines to try and halt the speed of her illness but it was no good.

She was finally transferred to a private hospital in North Yorkshire for more testing but she passed away hours after her twenty-second birthday.

Her father was in New York at the time of Patty’s death in a meeting.

He simply shrugged when he heard the news and continued with business as normal.

True to his word, he had never even seen his daughter’s face. 

 

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Patty was sobbing quietly as these images assaulted them all. Her body was shaking violently and she was distraught. “I forgot how I died. I died.”

Hiroto looked at the young woman compassionately. “I’m sorry, Patricia. The others needed to see.”

Patty closed her eyes in the horror of recollection and felt a gentle arm wind around her for comfort. She opened her eyes to see Ling beside her.

“Please, cry all you must.” Ling’s voice was beautifully soft and tremulous. “I will stay beside you.”

Patty leant against Ling and sobbed and sobbed. She could feel Ling’s heartbeat as she lay her ear against her chest and it confused her greatly. How could Ling still have a heartbeat if she was dead?

“I don’t understand. Why are you showing us this?” Patty cried.

“Our lives and important moments play a crucial part in you advancing into the next stage of your journey. You must have complete trust with each other, as if you were kin.” Hiroto explained as the others looked at Patty with tearful eyes.

“I didn’t know my father blamed me for my mother’s death.” Patty sobbed hysterically. “I didn’t know.”

Hiroto looked at Ling with a fond and gentle expression. “Gentle Ling. Ling of the House of Song. Gentle Ling who always puts others before her own needs.”

Ling looked uncomfortable with the appraisal. “I am next, no?”

“Yes, gentle one. We will revisit your life as it was.” Hiroto closed his eyes and images were unveiled and unfurled before the group. Directed into their minds like a targeted laser beam, the group were transported to China in the Tianshui district.

There was no hospital this time.

A young Chinese woman was giving birth to her baby at home.  There were whispers around the village of a new boy being born to the House of Song.

Only, the birth wasn’t as anyone had expected.

4: Chapter 4

"It's not a boy." A local widwife had attended the home birth and was trying to make the parents accept the fact that they had a little girl.

"We need a boy! What are you telling us?" Chun, worn out from labour held the tiny newborn in her arms, looking with disbelief at the perfect little human before her. Wrapped in a blanket, Chun could almost believe this was a boy; the precious boy they had been waiting for.

"This cannot be. We already have another little girl." Chun's husband, Hung added. He stared at the tiny baby with horror in his eyes.

They had been unlucky before. The last time Chun was pregnant, a relative had taken the baby from their hands and had raised it as their own child.

"Acceptance must become your reality." The midwife gravely added. "This is your child. It is a girl."

As the midwife departed, the two parents gazed at their new child. She seemed so perfect in spite of the fact they had wanted a son.

Hung put a reassuring arm around his wife's shoulders and pulled her and the infant close. "We will accept this, Chun. This is a gift. We shall call her ….. Ling."

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Being a farmer in Tianshui was a hard life.

The province of Maiji had its fair share of problems; locals not receiving adequate medical care and the lack of resources.

However, it was a fantastically beautiful place to grow up.

The exotic scenery and lush forests made Ling's childhood like something out of a fairy tale. She grew up helping her mother with the small farm they ran and attended the local school joyfully. Generally content, Ling was a lovely child – full of life and thoroughly optimistic.

She discovered swimming early on in the local lakes and became a competent diver which did not go unnoticed by Ling's godparent, Ji. He asked her parents permission to train Ling as an Olympic athlete, hoping they would catch the 2012 Olympics when Ling reached twenty.

Hung and Chun refused the offer. They desperately needed Ling around. She was the child who never complained with her lot and just got on with whatever she was given. Chores were undertaken and carried out without a single moan. Losing Ling would have been detrimental to the farm.

However, Ling still practiced swimming in the lakes. She found a gleeful freedom when she glided gracefully through the water. She swam as if she belonged in the water.

As if it had been made just for her.

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Ling developed a great appreciation for nature and a fascination with the world. She decided to enrol on a university course to study Geography. Her parents were horrified. Ling had become indispensable on the farm and they promised to disown her if she went away.

Heartbroken, Ling turned to the only person who had ever asked her what she wanted from life. Her godfather, Ji.

He listened and reassured her that he would find a way for her to be educated in Geography and found a local tutor willing to take Ling under his wing. She was a bright student and advanced very quickly. Sensing the talent within his student, the tutor managed to secure a job for her at the Tianshui Liziyuan Forest Park. Through this job she met her best friend Quon who worked for the Tianshui Maiji Meteorological Bureau. Harbouring a fascination with the weather, Ling would regularly visit her new friend and they conversed for long hours about current events happening around the world.

Ling wanted adventure. If she couldn't travel the world, then she would learn all there was to know about its mystical countries and sublime places. Her heart soared when she thought about how it would be to travel; to visit Europe and the Americas. A whole world existed outside her little bubble and she longed to explore it thoroughly. She knew, however, that she would never have the kind of money to travel and see the world. It brought a secret sadness to her soul, that she would never see the wonders she had read about in the library. Such thoughts depressed her and she deliberately ignored the swelling in her heart to see sights other than what her home could supply her with.

Over time, Ling sensed a new rift coming between the family due to her extra-curricular activities and tried desperately to make amends by working long hours at the Park and then helping with the family farm when she returned home. The family were often mean to her, telling her that she was such a disappointment to them.

By the age of twenty-two she was completely burned out.

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It was with a heavy heart that Ling made the decision to move in with her godfather's family.

She simply could not work twenty hours a day and function normally.

She spent her days working at the Park and visiting The Immortal Cliff Grottoes, studying the engravings with awe. There was such passion and skill reflected in the art and she spent countless hours pouring over the markings in wonder.

Then, when life had become settled, she discovered her mother had died from pneumonia and Ling had not been told.

The day she found out about her mother was the day she returned to the farm.

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"What do you want from me, Ling?" Hung asked as his daughter wept openly before him. "You chose to leave! You have no place in this family now!"

"How can you be so heartless. I am your child, your Ling. She was my mother!"

"She never loved you. You were meant to be a boy." Hung screamed as his face reddened with anger.

"I had a right to know when she died!" Ling insisted, tear tracks falling down her lovely pale cheeks. She had grown into a beautiful young woman but her father ignored his paternal instincts and chose ire over love.

"You have no rights here! You gave them up when you left the family bosom." Hung turned his back meanly on his daughter and crossed his arms. She literally felt the hatred emanating from him as he ignored her presence.

Sobbing, Ling fled the family home.

She ran and she ran.

When she stopped she looked up to see the beautifully immaculate grottos looming above her. She had run to her sanctuary and without a seconds pause, Ling started to climb. Hours passed as she carefully made her way to the top of the cliff-face, her body trembling from the exertion.

She stood in silence, tears falling from her eyes as she contemplated the raw beauty of the countryside around her. From the top of the cliff she could see the immense span of the greenery, reaching in all directions. The lake on the other side called to her and a soft breeze caressed her face and arms.

She stepped off the cliff like a beautiful rag-doll, falling rapidly as the cliff that had once sheltered her and nurtured her fantasies became the very tomb to end them all.

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Ling shuddered as they returned to the present, all the assembly looking at her with undisguised sympathy.

"He was wrong to disown his daughter." Kana reassured her gently.

"I was a burden to them all." Ling insisted. She was sitting silently on a rock as the tears slid down her pale cheeks. "They never loved me."

Patty edged forward and stroked Ling's hand gently. "Kana's right, Ling. They were wrong."

Ling covered her face with her arms and sobbed violently as Patty held her gently.

Hiroto's eyes turned to the last female of the group and Parina shook her head tearfully.

"Please don't. I don't want to see any of it. I don't want them to see it."

"Everything will be all right, Parina. You're history is as important as the others' and now we must see how your life was." Hiroto turned to the whole group as the visions began to descend once more.

Parina's sobs were drowned out as the image of slums assaulted them all and receded to a strange background hum.

Poverty was an infectious disease and Parina had been born right into the heart of the infection.

5: Chapter 5

A baby girl delivered among plague victims.

The newspaper headlines were screaming with the news. Out of death had come this miracle child who, miraculously, was not infected. Known as the Fairy Child, eventually she would be known as Parina. Life over death is what the baby represented to the terrified city dwellers. Life conquering over the plague that some thought might spread and destroy the entire planet.

Surat in India was an unwelcome host to the epidemic and people were fleeing the city, some heading south to Mumbai, others heading north towards Dahod. Public trust in the Centre for Disease Control had been wearing thin for a few months now. Everyone believed that there was a worse threat on the horizon, maybe even a pandemic.

Meanwhile, the Fairy Child was thriving and nurses had become besotted with the tiny human being with such indomitable spirit. They continually checked the infant for signs of the plague but she remained in the clear. It was more than a miracle. It was hope for everyone.

Parina had been born in the hospital before her mother was struck down with the plague in an unlucky coincidence that would lead to her eventual death. Having never known her baby girl, the unfortunate woman had slipped into a coma. Her last thoughts were of the baby she hadn't even welcomed into the world.

The Fairy Child had been revered as an almost godly intervention and the baby caught the attention of someone with very influential means.

A reclusive billionaire by the name of Ajeet had become fascinated by her legendary story, her origins exaggerated to give the people of Surat a source of hope. Ajeet's wife, Shamita, was unable to conceive a child. They both fell in love with the mystery surrounding Parina and applied for adoption of the Fairy Child.

Once they had been accepted as Parina's new parents, they had moved to Mumbai and their exclusive penthouse suite had been the home Parina had grown up with every conceivable luxury and desire.

Although she was extremely spoiled and pampered, Parina never flaunted this to others. Her sympathy for those with far less than herself was one of her most admirable traits. Her parents lost count of the times she gave donations to charities or helped some unfortunate soul living rough on the streets. As a child, they encouraged her love for humanity; aiding her efforts in whatever way they could.

One of Parina's biggest achievement was starting a charity at twelve years of age that specifically helped the worst of Mumbai's hopeless people; the homeless. Liaising with other charitable organisations, by the time Parina was fifteen, she had helped over fifteen thousand people either find a home, work or reconnect with their families. Heading a staff of over a hundred, Parina was considered the Florence Nightingale of her age.

As she matured, it had become obvious to those around her that Parina was a prodigy. Her understanding of technology and mathematics was unrivalled, and she was studying for a degree at sixteen years old. The young woman had earned a lot of respect from her peers; her tutors and fellow students could only admire her growth as she learned quickly and passed her degree within three years.

By the time she was nineteen, Parina had been selected for an award to honour the achievements in her short life. She was given funding to open two new homeless shelters and a counselling service was added to the list of services offered by her organisation.

Her genius had only increased over the years and she was an outspoken advocate for world peace. Her parents were overjoyed by her accomplishments and held banquets in her honour; dignitaries of other nations were desperate to meet the young woman who had helped so many at such a young age.

On her twenty-first birthday, when Parina's birthday party took place at a luxury apartment in Mumbai, everyone toasted the success of a young woman who had, quite literally, changed the world.

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During the day, she had been celebrating by accepting an award for her work with the homeless. Parina had accepted the award with dignity and grace; had humbled everyone with her speech about looking after the unfortunate and making the world a peaceful place for everyone to enjoy.

She had received a standing ovation by the entire room. Tears were shed by her proud parents as everyone congratulated them on their lovely daughter.

Only twenty-one years of age …. and she had done so much already.

Her parents wondered what else this bright and compassionate woman was capable of.

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It was the night of the party that Parina died.

She had been in Oraclub, the city's most fashionable and private of clubs with everyone she loved and a whole host of strangers and acquaintances.

The celebrations started at nine and ended barely an hour later as the consequences of one bitter man changed the whole mood of the party.

For the first hour, Parina had been happy to dance with her friends. The night was a blur of activity as the music pounded in her ears and she swayed to the beat rhythmically. There was nothing like Indi-pop to get her feet moving and the symphony of guitar, drumbeat and mellow singing melted her soul. The music was uplifting and energetic; bringing her to a kind of euphoria.

After an hour, everyone gathered for her party speech.

Parina did not disappoint, thanking her family and friends for attending the club and for joining in with her celebrations.

At first, the man was largely ignored by the crowd that had gathered to listen to Parina's speech like bees around a honeypot.

It was only when he drew the gun from under his coat that the screaming began.

Breaking through the crowd, the killer fired random bullets, spraying the panic stricken people as they tried to flee from him; their arms raised in terror.

Parina stood on the stage very still with wide eyes. She had never before seen such chaos and the sound of rapid gunfire was frightening her into stillness. She had frozen, watching as the man neared her, his gun aimed at her head.

At the very last second, survival instinct kicked in and Parina tried to run across the stage. Her long skirt tripped her up and she went sprawling; kicking the air furiously as she went down. Folds of her gown floated over her face and she panicked, tearing the material aside as she tried to stumble to her feet.

She looked up and came eye-to-eye with her killer. The gun was pointed at her temple, the man's finger quivering on the trigger as all his plans were realised in this cold and ruthless act. He had jumped nimbly onto the stage and accosted her during the confusion and melee.

Later, it would be discovered his name was Ratnam and he was someone who her organisation had helped a few years prior. He had been destitute and living on the streets until the charity scooped him up and gave him a job, counselling and a roof above his head.

He had serious mental health issues and a narcissistic personality that was never addressed by psychiatrists. He had been living like a time bomb, waiting for the moment to explode and do as much damage as he could.

Instead of being grateful to the charity for helping him at his lowest ebb, he had become obsessed with killing the head of the snake, as he termed Parina. He had no more reason or logic than that, his dark obsession turning to rage as the timer wore down on his insanity to reveal a deep, murderous rage that could only be satisfied with one final act of vengeance.

Those who kill for no apparent reason are always terrifying and Ratnam could put no defence for his actions later at court. He claimed Parina had been possessed by demons and he had been chosen to eliminate the threat, but the court saw through his lies and excuses.

He was a madman who had wanted Parina dead for years.

Her sobbing parents waited for justice to be meted out on the killer and were relieved when he was the fifth person in India's history to receive capital punishment for his crime. They wept as he was sentence to die by firing squad a month from the date of ruling.

Ratnam showed no emotion as he was taken away in handcuffs. The court had erupted into cheers and heckling at the ruthless murderer but he barely registered the commotion.

Ratnam was a dead man already. He had no soul, no hopes, no compassion.

He was opposite of Parina.

But he would die as a murderer; reviled and shunned by everyone.

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Parina shuddered as she remembered everything.

It was like a cold blow to her soul; all she could see was his eyes in the final moment.

Cold, lifeless orbs of hatred that promised only one thing.

The end of her life.

Hiroto watched as the young woman absorbed all of the information, shuddering with terror.

Kana was furious. He began to pace along the rocks like a man possessed.

Andrei was shaken and silent as he processed what he had seen. His thoughts were in turmoil over the futility of Parina's execution. She wasn't the first compassionate soul to be murdered by a soulless criminal. Too many times had this happened already and Andrei felt a sadness consume his soul. All those good deeds and the hopes of so many to come; dashed by one madman with a rifle.

Mikel was quiet as he watched Parina, his eyes filled with inner pain.

Ling was already at the woman's side, a supportive hand on her shoulder.

Patty was aghast and pale; the visions too much for her to bear.

Hiroto coughed and brought the assembly back to attention. "We have four more life stories to complete. Please, settle down."

As the company composed itself, Kana shot a sideways glance at Parina.

She had died in a tragic manner for no reason at all. It infuriated him that, in spite of the goodness she had achieved in such a short life, she had been needlessly murdered.

In his eyes, she was a saint.

6: Chapter 6

"You are troubled, dearest woman?" Hiroto asked of Parina. "Ask of me anything you wish."

She stood up, awkwardly, hitting her shoulder on a rock that was jutting out beside her. "I do not understand a lot of things. I am at a loss. How can we understand each other? For we all come from different countries and, therefore, we should all speak separate languages."

All eyes turned to Hiroto with curiosity. Parina was the first to voice her uncertainty but the same question plagued them all.

"When one has transcended from flesh to spirit, all boundaries are lifted." Hiroto explained patiently. "Just as enlightenment opens the mind through meditation, so does death release the barrier on all tongues. Your brain, now free of constraints, acts as an interpreter and automatically translates any language that is heard."

"Like a computer translator." Parina added, thoughtfully. "The brain is infinitely powerful and scientists are undecided how much of our brains are actually being used."

"You are free of your fleshly confines from your past life." Hiroto said, his voice soft and reassuring. "The body you have been given to continue your adventures as a Tri-Master is the pinnacle of youth and health. It will never fatigue or become diseased. It will never age. Just as your new brain is automatically translating languages, so shall you understand many other things that were impossible to divine during your lifetime. Your brain will adapt and learn … all areas open to new discovery and learning."

Parina processed this new information. "I still cannot see how this works. Why not take the spirit before the child is even born and fashion it into that which you desire."

Hiroto sighed. "There is no substitute for a lifetime's worth of experience, Parina. During your life, have you not learned about the world and its evils? Have you not learned about the trials that mankind faces, even now; in its darkest hour … there are those who pray for a miracle, Parina. Why should the forces in the universe not combine to grant this prayer? Every saddened voice has been heard and action taken to give humanity what it needs."

"Us." Parina nodded. "What use can we be? Evil lives in the heart of the wicked and corrupt. How do we affect that?"

"A whole cheese cannot be swallowed in one go." Hiroto explained. "You must take smaller bites, nibble from the edges. Wear away the cheese from the outside and work your way toward the centre. It is the same with you all. Miracles are not going to happen. The world is not suddenly going to become aware of all its ills and cast out those who cause pain to others. You will act as a unit and erode the evil of this world, one despot at a time."

"We can do that?" Mikel looked at Hiroto in amazement. "I always dreamed of being a super hero."

"Remember that this new life is granted upon you not for glory or renown. It is granted to help others." Hiroto added. "We should continue with our quest to learn about your pasts. Now it is the turn of Kana."

Kana closed his eyes briefly. He didn't want to relive his history but he didn't have a choice.

The visions were already invading his mind and he could but hang on grimly and replay things he would have rather forgotten.

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Kana had been born with high hopes for his future. His father, Hiro, had held him firmly but gently in his large arms. He already had two beautiful daughters, but Kana would be the one he would teach the family legacy – a form of Ninjutsu descended from the time of assassins and samurai.

Of course, the form he taught in his modern school was not of the ancient variety. Too many disciplines were redundant in this new modern era. Plus, there was no real need for them to be the assassins of old; to pursue their prey and attack ruthlessly and without mercy.

New strains of the ancient art had been ushered in to replace a dying art form. Hiro was determined that his ninja legacy would not die out as so many others had done. Even if the art were not completely pure he would still teach his school regardless.

Kana was the start of a new era.

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Kana grew up in a disciplined martial world. In the town of Kushiro in the Hokkaido region of Japan, where everything was of natural beauty and splendour, he was truly blessed with the cards he had been dealt with. He played with his sisters as they giggled and ran from him as he pretended to be to be a Nobusuma for their games. Darting around wildly, he would tag them as they ran around in circles, their long skirts tripping them up as they sought to escape.

From a young age, he was taught with bokken to continue his father's lineage with the ninja legacy but it became clear that he had no instinct for swordplay. His skills were mediocre, average at best.

His interests were with the ninjas of myth and legend. He would pore over images of ancestors and listen to endless stories by his grandfather, Kenta. Stories of how ninja used to operate. How they would appear as if by magic to cleave down their opponents and bring justice to the oppressive samurai.

Kana couldn't get enough of such stories and his love for the disciplines regarding stealth and tactics became his obsession.

His bokken skills may have been lacking, but he had a keen mind.

By the time he reached twelve years of age, Kana had mastered meditation. He became even more disciplined in his mind.

His skills with weapons were still sadly lacking.

His father despaired at the lack of progress with the katana – until the miracle was born.

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When his brother was born, shortly after Kana turned twelve, the boy became more of an embarrassment for his father.

For his brother, Kenji, adapted quickly to become an excellent swordsman. His bokken skills were evident at a very young age and his hand to hand combat far excelled that of his brother's.

Kana was pushed into the background, helping his father with the running of the school rather than the physical disciplines. Instead of combat training, Kana was given more clerical roles; a mundane job that ate at his confidence and cast him further into his brother's shadow.

Kenji was a prodigy, no doubt. His skills excelled with each and every year. By the age of eight, he was excelling at a tremendous pace and had the attention of the entire family to himself.

Kana remained invisible as a shadow; following the path of many a ninja before him.

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It was at the age of twenty-four that Kana lost his life. His brother was now twelve years old and was the core of the family. Kenji was now studying with an actual blade and his skills were apparent to everyone who watched his intense and gruelling training.

On the day that would end Kana's life, he had been miserable with his lot in life. He had been drinking too much sake for his own good and had riled a local bad boy; a bully who liked to carve a path through his enemies.

The bully, nicknamed Kappa after the Japanese monster of legend because of his fondness for cucumber and swimming in lakes had challenged Kana to a duel. This was forbidden, of course. Duelling had been frowned upon for centuries whilst reason, logic and mediation had taken the place of lethal combat.

Instead of rejecting Kappa's demand for a duel, Kana agreed to the terms.

Within hours the men were facing each other with a katana. The privacy of the rolling hills of Kushiro surrounding them with secrecy from the eyes of those who would seek to intervene.

The atmosphere, although tense, was serene. Birds were singing happily in the trees above the men as they unsheathed their weapons and readied themselves for combat.

Kana would remember the way the sword sang as it was released from the confines of the sheath. How the metal gleamed in the dying light of day, reflecting tones of red, orange and yellow as the myriad colours of a startling sky bounced off the blade.

He would remember the sudden sadness that accompanied his first stance, of knowing he would never be able to win the duel. That this was his own form of seppuku, although more cowardly because he was getting someone else to do the deed for him.

He would remember Kappa approaching with practiced ease, his eyes shining with bloody desire.

He would remember the first stroke of Kappa's sword as it pierced his meagre defence with ease and slashed cleanly into his white garments. The white becoming red in seconds as the first thrust of the sword became the final blow.

He barely remembered falling to his knees in the rich, green grass as he clutched at his stomach. The sword he had once relied upon had fallen to the soft ground and embedded itself upright. The blade was still reflecting all the beautiful colours of the world around him as he fell awkwardly onto his side.

There, in the foetal position, he lay like a broken doll.

As his vision dimmed and the colours of the world faded into darkness, he barely even registered Kappa standing above him with his sword raised.

In that instant, Kana knew that the demon was going to cut off his head.

In a moment, Kana prayed that the end was swift. The release from the pains of his wounds would be merciful.

He would never have been able to survive that stomach wound. The simple thrust that swept through his organs like they were made of water. The sloshing of the blade as it retracted and the wound seeped life as Kana's eyes grew dim.

He prayed as his last breath grew ragged.

Prayed that his family would be safe from harm. That his brother would become the master his father had always wanted. That his sisters would be married and live full lives.

That his mother would forgive him for dying in such a horrific manner.

Kappa's sword descended upon Kana's throat as he lay curled up on the wet ground, now soiled with blood, his arms curled protectively around the stomach wound as he faded in and out of consciousness.

Kana would not remember anything more. He would not feel the sword as it sliced through his neck, the cold steel bursting through his flesh like it were a piece of fruit.

At that very moment, Kana's soul had been freed.

7: Chapter 7

Kana paced as the others looked at him gently. “I require no pity from any of you! I died through my own choices. I am perfectly fine with the way I expired.”

“Kana, I’m so sorry.” Chance shook his head. “It’s just … damn.”

Hiroto bowed his head as Kana continued to pace around, clearly uncomfortable with the level of awareness everyone now had of his life. “The story needed to be told. You are my kin, Kana. You have never disappointed me.”

“I disappointed myself.” Kana stopped pacing, his eyes closing in resignation. “All my life, I lived in shadow. I didn’t seek to free myself from my own self-imposed chains.”

“No, Kana.” Hiroto disagreed. “That was your family’s chain that bound you. You honoured them too deeply not to try, even when it became obvious that you were not meant for the sword. That was your father’s failing, Kana. Not yours.”

“If I could not live by the sword, then I chose to die by it.” Kana whispered. His voice softened even further. “That is all. There is nothing more to say.”

Hiroto sighed and looked at Mikel with a sad smile.

“No! No! Don’t you dare! I don’t want my life story splashed around in visions for this entire group!” Mikel shook his head angrily.  “Don’t do that!”

Hiroto sighed again. “Need must, Mikel. It is time for the others to know your journey.”

 

--

 

Mikel was born to a large family in Southern Australia. He had been born at home, as were his brothers and together they had grown up within a hectic but loving family.

When he was seven, he discovered the Ninja Turtles phenomena. Having three other brothers meant for lots of exciting games when they enacted their favourite cartoon shows.  As always, Mikel played as Raphael.  He liked the idea of a loner hot-headed type, also liking the character of Wolverine in The X-Men.

Life was a whirlwind of family excursions, martial arts lessons and brotherly squabbles.  All four were competing to become the first black belt in the family as competition was fierce between the siblings.

As well as three brothers, Mikel had two younger sisters. They were pretty and reserved, almost shy. They clung to their mother as they grew up, the boisterous play of the brothers too much for them.

However, they were a tight unit.

The family was close and their ties were strong.

--

Mikel gained his black belt at the age of fourteen.  He became interested in the more fluid of weaponry, such as nunchuks and kusarigama. As well as focusing on his jujutsu, Mikel found he had a talent for throwing with precise aim at a moving target.

He was forever playing darts and throwing rocks at tin cans aligned on fencing.  Archery came as easily as breathing. In fact, he was naturally talented at most of the skills he put his mind to learning.

--

At  sixteen, Mikel joined the military and left the family home for greater adventures. His background in martial arts provided a quicker route for him to progress as he excelled beyond what anyone had expected of him.

By the age of nineteen, Mikel was working in special forces as an explosives expert and had been contracted out to the Counter Terrorist Unit several times to destroy terrorist cells operating inside Southern Australia.  His life was service to the armed forces. He had no real ties and hadn’t seen his family for years. The nature of his job was too dangerous for innocent people to get caught up in. He knew from others how vulnerable family ties would make him.

His base was in Adelaide, although he travelled often.   He had no compunction in taking down the enemy factions as he found them. They were plotting mass attacks on innocent citizens of Australia. They needed to be stopped, permanently.

Mikel was aware that some people were beyond saving. Such terrorists who had slaughtered people without regard were just targets, in his eyes. He had no trouble in pulling a trigger when necessary, or planting a bomb in the heart of a terrorist training cell.

With his martial arts experience and the extensive knowledge of explosives, Mikel became the Go-To guy for the government and for top military brass. There was nothing about bombs that Mikel didn’t know. He could disarm complicated computerised systems and cut the right wire every time.

At least, until the one day he got it wrong.

 

--

It had been an especially hot summer.

Mikel was working alone, as was his habit and he had been tracking a very sophisticated terrorist cell around Adelaide.

The group themselves, named ‘Maphasis’ had several facilities and recruitment drives continually on the go. Mikel had been rounding up the criminals. Some of them were given over to the Police. Some were deemed too dangerous to be allowed to live. Mikel had made the decisions for both.

In some cases, there were idiotic teenagers involved. Eager to change the world and gullible to fear tactics and a cause they had been indoctrinated into this cell and cut all ties with family and friends.

Such novices were easy for Mikel to track.

It was the corrupted innocents who helped Mikel infiltrate the terrorist cells. A little pressure and a threat made them more than willing to assist him. As always, he would offer them protection and immunity, his main goal being to find the ringleaders of the cell.

It wasn’t easy to find the real power behind a terrorist cell.

Most of the leaders were paranoid psychopaths who covered every trail with innocent blood. Mikel had dealt with several terrorist leaders in his time. He knew how ruthless and despicable their tactics were. How they ruled by fear and intimidation, only the foundation of their rule was tenuous at best.

The slightest sign of intervention was often enough to make the majority run for cover whilst the leaders themselves shot and killed as many renegades as they could.

The first terrorist leader Mikel had killed was more of a blundering success than a planned victory. He had actually joined the organisation as a mole, working his way up to the real people in charge and then dispatching them, leaving a trail of bloodshed and bodies in his wake.

His colleagues jokingly called him Jack Bauer.

--

The morning he was killed had started the same as every other day.

He had followed his plans meticulously and had set charges around the perimeter of the training camp of the terrorist unit. Mikel was nothing if not thorough. He had detonated the majority of the explosives and had seen the terrorist escaping into the undergrowth.

Adrenalin had coursed through his veins as he prepared to follow. The manic energy that descended had him momentarily forgetful of where he had placed his explosives.

It took one moment for Mikel’s world to end; a moment filled with fire and debris. He didn’t know much as the explosion took hold and his body was torn to pieces in a blinding white light.

 

8: Chapter 8

"Did we really need to see that part?" Mikel snorted, "I look like an amateur, getting all blown up."

"You were needlessly careless," Hiroto snapped. For a moment, the spirit's eyes were angry and burning with accusation. "That kind of neglect is something an amateur would do!!"

"Hey, I've taken out all sorts. That's not fair! I've always been careful," Mikel folded his arms defensively.

"It took one moment to snuff out your life" Hiroto explained, the fire still building in his eyes. It made him appear more solid, as if anger infused him with energy and strength. "You can ill afford another. Most people don't get second chances, Mikel. Honour that!"

"Second chances?" Mikel echoed, confused.  "What second chance? That terrorist cell is still in operation. I failed!"

"Your first mission!" Hiroto pointed an angry finger in Mikel's direction, "Is to clean up the mess you made! Out of everyone here, excluding Andrei, you are trained to deal with such a threat from terrorists. Forgiveness does not come easily and it is earned through making amends."

"Our first mission …" Patty repeated the words in a small voice, "We're going to take out a terrorist group?"

"Consider it a test run of your ability to work together," Hiroto explained.  "Most of your missions will be much more difficult than this small undertaking."

"Small undertaking?" Parina looked at Hiroto in horror. "This isn't a small undertaking! They managed to kill a specialist! What chances do we have? I know nothing about people like that!"

"You are surrounded by people with the shared skills to accomplish this task." Hiroto explained, his voice once again gentle. "Trust in them. I am sure Mikel will not make such a mistake again."

Mikel huffed indignantly folding his arms and looking away from the group and across the vast landscape before them. It was a beautiful location, without a human habitat in sight for miles around. "Where are we? What is this place? Why did you bring us here? If we're going to take on Maphasis then we should have been dumped in Adelaide."

"This is the perfect place to experience the visions I bring to you with no interruption." Hiroto gestured for Mikel to sit with the rest of the group. Mikel merely stood glowering, his face a mixture of shock and rage. "Settle down, we have two more life stories to complete before the sun sets.

Hiroto turned to Chance and smiled gently. "It is your turn now, my son."

Immediately, the others were drawn into Chance's life story, as if it were a movie being played out before them.

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Chance was born on the 5th of December in 1990 in Brooklyn, New York. He was a middle child of three and his parents, although not rich, were comfortably well off.  It was when he was four years old that Chance fell out of a tree during a rough game with the neighbourhood kids gone horribly wrong. He had been forever climbing trees, but this time, he lost his footing and fell from the top branch and hit his head hard on the way down. After that moment, his voice changed forever.

Chance was diagnosed with Foreign Accent Syndrome. It turned out that an accident when he was young had made the accent develop as if from nowhere. He had been dropped, accidentally, as a young child and his accent had been born.

Growing up, Chance was frequently bullied for his posh accent. He seemed an outsider and was consistently ignored by his peers which in turn made him bitter and wary of others.

Chance was affectionate toward his family, but when it came to the local gangs he found himself pulled into their ranks as a young teenager. His parents were terrified for him and he knew that gang members were routinely shot by rivals. However, he was eventually given the title Little Ninja, for his unbelievable ability to get into impossible places.

It started with finding gaps and wriggling his young body into suffocating spaces to scare other gang members. As he grew older, Chance began to live up to his name. He found his way into bank vaults and out of precarious situations. He was the only gang member not to have a rap sheet because he was never caught. He was simply to wiley to be cornered.

When he entered his early twenties, Chance became a virtual recluse, keeping to the shadows and spying on rival gang members. He didn't talk too much, just kept himself busy with his espionage. He was a clever man and could be ruthless when he wanted to be.

When his death had happened, he had been in New York in Central Park. There had been a drug deal going on between the Mayads and the Pushtags; both of them rival gang members. Chance had been looking to intervene when he noticed that several families were in the park that day, several children playing on the grass only yards from where the drug deal was happening.

It was the only time Chance had ever been caught.

He walked towards the men to caution them when someone had brushed him from behind. He had staggered a little, leaning back onto a tree and watching the two men engaged in their drug deal turn to look at him with curiousity.

He felt his jacket, at the back and found it wet with his own blood.

He had been stabbed and as he fell to his knees, he looked at the gang members before him. Both were walking up to him and he realised the ugly truth.

He had been set up. They were both working together to bring him down.

The older man, the dealer, held out a handgun at Chance's head.

The last thing he knew of was the white light blinding him momentarily, before everything went into darkness.

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"I was a complete jerk." Chance said as the others merely stared into darkness. "I chose that life and I deserved to die. Why the hell am I back?"

Hiroto sighed deeply. "You have a particular set of skills that is crucial for the team dynamic. I will explain all to you shortly. Before that, we have one more story to tell. Andrei, my stern friend. It is now your turn."

Andrei nodded. He was only too willing to share his story. It felt as if he had known the others all of his life. The intimate visions had led to a whole new level of understanding. He had never felt closer to any other humans in his young life. "Please, I am ready."

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A young baby was left at the orphanage in cold January, 1992.

It was Russia. Leaving a baby on the doorstep could result in its untimely death. However, apart from dealing with hypothermia and losing a finger, the baby survived and the Headmaster of the Orphanage, a stern and disliked older man, made sure he was looked after.

He liked the boy. Andrei was given his name by the Headmaster. As he grew into a child and a young man, he was dreaming of joining the military. By the time he was fifteen, he had enlisted and entered a training programme that would have crippled lesser men.

Andrei thrived, becoming skilled at martial arts and weaponry. His speciality was the naginata, and he would routinely demonstrate complex katas for his military brethren. He wrote to Headmaster until the year of the old man's death, detailing everything he was going through in the missions he had been assigned.

He was, quite simply, an incredible soldier.

Right until the day of his death, Andrei made a big impact on everyone around him and charmed those who would have wished him ill. He had a large heart and loved animals, often saving them from war-torn parts of the world before being sent back to Russia to learn more skills and undertake more dangerous missions.

The day he was killed, Andrei had been on a training exercise. A rogue mine had blown his legs cleanly off and as the medics had struggled to save his life, Andrei had been drifting in an out of consciousness.

There was nothing they could do. Andrei was dead within a few minutes.

No-one could have prevented the accident or saved Andrei's life.

It was fate.

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"You must understand how important you all are," Hiroto explained gently. "For this team to survive, we need to learn to work together, all of us. The only way is to learn on-mission. To learn through experience. I need you to finish what Mikel started. To bring down the terrorist group before they claim more victims."

Parina was still in shock. Although she knew they needed to take down the terrorists, she was petrified. "I haven't got any skills you guys can use. I'm into computers, not guns."

"Parina, you are a technical genius. You will be perfect for parts of the mission others will fail if undertaken by anyone other than yourself." Hiroto turned to Andrei. "As the one with the most military experience it will be up to you to turn your new unit into a functional team. You have seen what they excel at."

Hiroto opened his arms in a broad sweep, to include them all. "You will need to accept Andrei as your leader and work with him to attain your goals."

The others stared at Andrei as he nodded slowly, accepting the mantle of leadership without a word.

They all felt the weight of their situation.

They had only just met, how on earth would they function together as team?