Prologue Part 2: The Threat

Hiro chuckled to himself as he worked, he liked the thrill. He knew from years of war that any time you try to do something of this caliber anything could happen. He expected at the end of the day he would be having the hottest young thing around pouring sake for him and he would sip as his good luck continued to grow as it had throughout his life. But there was a chance his luck would run out and enemy intelligence would counter. He had done all he could to prevent that. Either way at the very least this was just the launch site; the actual nukes were kept elsewhere somewhere in one of the many wastelands that now were common on the face of the round earth. If he failed he believed another would rise up, likely from his own clan of Shima. Or so he hoped but with all of his deep research into the minds of others on the interwebs past and present as far as he could tell these were the last nukes left on the earth. And only he knew the codes for this facility. He knew it was risky but he also knew the hearts of the people were weary of war and just wanted it all to end. With these ideologies growing rampart Hiro feared that even if he failed and died leaving remnants of his great mind for others to pick through he feared that even if somebody wanted to research the thoughts similar to his goal they wouldn’t have the gumption to follow through. Or they would be so persecuted and controlled that even if they wanted to they would be hard pressed. Hiro shook his head at the thought he wouldn't let the war end this way. He couldn't. He wouldn't be satisfied with licking his wounds and living a pitiful life; living on the interwebs pretending to accept the new harmonious lifestyle of the Japanese. He would not give in, he would be triumphant, the hero of Shima and the once proud nation of Japan. He approached the console for NOW was time to etch his name into history.

I watched Hiro chuckle to himself and then get a perverted look on his face. He seemed to be quite the character all things considered. I had calmed down. My hands were steady and strong. The riser felt cool in my hands but the claminess was gone. I took the handles off years ago to feel the bow better and to notice my errors throughout the years. This helped me eliminate mistakes and when I dont mistakes I don't miss. And throughout the years I had stopped making mistakes. This was because I had learned to mix the art of Kyudo with the technology of Western archery. In the West, particularly where my friend EVO33 was from, archery was just about making the perfect shot and hitting your spot. I combined this with Kyudo's philosophy of meditation and feeling the shot and together they were almost too good to be true. Kyudo of course was more complicated than that and I knew that but my mental strength allowed me not to delve into the woods as people used to say…Ironically enough my mental fortitude which I had gained from my meditation as was the Kyudo way had caused my mind to wander a little more than usual. My meditation seemed to be a double edged sword at times, sometimes it gave me mental strength and peace but other times it allowed my mind to wander more than I would like.Which is why in Kyudo the shoot itself is not only a release of the arrow but also a release of the tension on your mind. But it didn't matter, the time was as good as ever Hiro seemed to be about ready. The time for the release of my arrow and some of that tension in my mind seemed to draw near. I didn't know if my intel was right but it seemed likely considering the old military building we were in was used seemingly only by Hiro himself. It hardly even seemed operational. I looked at the hole I had to squeeze my arrow through 3 vent shafts and then through his body.

I wanted to wait until he was directly over the console and giving me a good angle. I was almost sure now based on how Hiro was acting that my intel was correct. Hiro had started humming the old National anthem of Japan. As he prepared suddenly he threw his head back and laughed. I realized I may have underestimated his mental state as he seemed ready now it was days before the counterintelligence predicted though. I knew that my old friend, codenamed Evo33 in America would be thrilled that I was so meticulous on my missions. I could almost hear him saying he knew I'd be ready so it didn't matter how exact he was. Even after all that had happened Americans still managed to find a way to seem laid back.

Hiro smiled that he would finally have his revenge. The PNWA had no right to be united and functioning, not when Japan was split and the rest of the world was either destroyed, broken or in chaos.

I relaxed my grip curling my fingers around the bow so softly yet just tight enough that any of my past lovers would be jealous.

I drew back and hit my anchor point ( note:the anchor point is the point to which you draw back your string to each time to ensure maximum performance. Once an Archer finds theirs and gets used to it becomes natural many of them have little checks they do to confirm they are at the perfect draw) and each of my check points. ( Check points are like an addition to anchor points; some touch their nose to the string especially on compounds because that confirms for most that they are at the best point for looking down range.)

Once at full draw I paused and took a few slow breaths. I had already picked my spot on my target. He was wearing an old military uniform with his name stitched on it . I knew from his stature and from having worn a similar uniform myself for many years that the stitching was right over his heart. I chose a loose fray in the middle of the O in his stitching. I knew where my arrow was going now I just had to hold until the perfect opportunity. I thought it was funny he still even wore that uniform most militaries had been destroyed or disbanded for about a decade after WW4 . The world for the most part seemed tired of war, and just wanted peace. Struggling to find ways to move on and establish new lives and create new functioning society's.

The digital age had peeked after WW3 as people had attempted to escape reality with Augmented reality. This worked for a time. Until reality caught up and WW4 happened. I figured that in a way Hiro was living his own reality playing out schemes and plans that were real in his head. I wasn't sure if this was a form of PTSD or a side effect of everyone's disconnect from reality. Either way I knew I had to end Hiro's reality.

Hiro reached forward with a shaky hand and he paused. He wondered why he was shaky, the lives of the people living in the PNWA were nothing to him. They deserved this, they had slighted him just by their existence just by still being on the face of the earth. That alone was reason enough for his "Just" judgment.

With these thoughts rattling around his head mixing and with the thousands of things that were currently and constantly streamlined to his head. Any information ever was in his head all you had to do was seek it. Such was how the world worked at the time. But Hiro wouldn't couldn't let the Americans live in this timeline, not after what they had taken. A stray thought landed in his head " what had the Americans taken from me?" Try as he might of his own accord he couldn't think of anything and he didn't feel like diving into the 'interwebs' of his head. He knew he was right, he knew he was on the side of justice. Hiro Shima was about to rewrite history. He smiled at the thought as his hands rested on the console. "Thunk" Hiro looked down, an arrow stuck almost completely through his chest. On the arrow shaft right next to the fletchings he could make out the etchings that only appeared when in contact with blood it read " Strider" Hiro's last thoughts were all over the place his mind was reeling he couldn't think the interwebs flooded in. The last thought that flowed through his mind was collected from the interwebs. " Aragonian Stride ranked archers in the late 2000s would embed their name into their arrows and make it so they glowed when in contact with select materials so if the arrows were ever found it could be returned to its owner." Hiro died with a look of complete disbelief and horror. One couldn't say whether it was due to the pointless information he accidentally accessed or if it was due to his reality crumbling before his eyes only to be replaced by a harsh and brief reality that was covered in RED.