The Fist of the Human and the Arrogance of the King.

Ken's communicator crackled with one last burst of unintelligible static before dying completely. "...run... trap..." was the last thing he could decipher.

But the warning came too late. Ken turned, knife in hand, feeling the world collapse around him. It wasn't just the suffocating presence of the Regent behind him; it was the shadows emerging from the rain. Pale bodies, with white eyes and dislocated jaws.

"Guys...?" Ken whispered, hesitating. One of the undead lunged at him with a groan that wasn't human. Ken's survival instinct took over. His arm moved on its own, tracing a defensive arc. His knife blade cut the attacker's throat. The body fell into the mud, but Ken felt no relief, only nausea. Are they... still inside there? he wondered in horror, dodging another. Are they just empty shells, or am I killing my friends?

That doubt was his undoing. The hesitation in his movements allowed the horde to surround him. There were too many. And behind them, the Regent watched, laughing silently, enjoying the spectacle of watching a human break morally before dying.

Ken blocked a rifle butt, kicked a knee, and severed a tendon, but he had less and less space. He was cornered against the rusted structure of the children's play equipment. Rage and helplessness burned his throat. Am I going to die here? he thought, gritting his teeth. Without even scratching that bastard?

The Regent took a step forward, raising his sword to end the game. But then, the air whistled.

BOOM! An explosion of fire erupted right in the middle of the undead encirclement, sending bodies flying and creating a barrier of smoke and heat between Ken and his attackers. Ken covered his face with his arms. When the smoke was washed away by the rain, he saw a small figure standing on a concrete wall, holding a smoking grenade launcher almost as big as he was.

"Isn't it a pain that a minor has to come save your ass again?" said Kazuha with an arrogant smile. Behind him, six shadows leaped over the wall and landed in formation around Ken.

Meanwhile, inside Yokota Air Base, the hell was different. There were no giant creatures, only the echo of gunfire in the sealed corridors. The interior zone was compromised. The dead Kijin, raised by the Regent's magic, had bypassed security and were slaughtering anyone in their path.

In the Command Room, Kaori Watanabe was pale. "Fall back!" shouted Yamato, impaling an undead with his spear just before it reached the commander. "There are too many!" roared Shinji, firing his sidearm until it was empty. "They're breaking down the doors!"

The base, Kanto's bastion, was falling. And the worst part was that it was falling by the hands of those who had sworn to protect it. Kaori, with trembling hands but a clear mind, ran to the long-range communications console. She knew it was the end. If Yokota fell, the region was lost. But... there was a chance. For minutes now, the seismic sensors had been registering brutal impacts in the nearby city. Explosions of purple and black energy. Ken, Natasha, Kyosuke... they're fighting the Calamity, Kaori deduced.

She grabbed the microphone. She didn't call for reinforcements for the base. She knew it was too late for them. "This is Yokota Central Command!" she shouted, her voice breaking. "To any allied unit in range! The base is compromised! I repeat, the base is lost! Do not come here!" She paused, swallowing tears. "I request immediate support in the Urban Sector! Our top agents are engaging Target S: The Regent! They are facing Japan's greatest threat, but they are also our only hope! Please... save my friends!"

Silence. Only static and the pounding on the command room door answered. Kaori closed her eyes, awaiting death.

"Received, ma'am. We're on our way."

The voice, clear and masculine, cut through the static. It wasn't from any known base. Kaori's eyes snapped open. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but this time they were of relief. "Thank you..." she whispered, collapsing into her chair as Yamato and Shinji barricaded the entrance with furniture. The base could burn. Yet, if the Regent fell today, it would be worth it.

Back in the rain-drenched park. The squad of six Kijin, led by Kazuha, formed a wall of shields and spears in front of Ken. Kazuha jumped off the wall and offered Ken a hand to pull him from the mud. "What's the situation?" the boy asked, though his eyes scanned the perimeter.

"That thing..." Ken pointed at the imposing figure observing them. "That's the Regent. The General of Kanto."

The air turned to ice. The six soldiers swallowed hard, but none retreated. Kazuha nodded, processing the information far too quickly for his age. "Understood." He turned to his squad. "Listen up! We handle the trash! Clear the area and contain the undead! Leave the big one to the expert!"

"Expert? Me?" Ken said, surprised. "You're the only one who's survived an encounter with him, right?" Kazuha winked at him. "Do it."

The squad charged with a war cry, crashing into the zombie horde and opening a clearing in the park. Ken was left alone facing the Regent. The monster tilted its head, curious.

Ken took a deep breath. The rain washed the blood from his face. "I won't use cheap tricks this time," Ken murmured. "Or maybe I will."

Ken ran toward the Regent. The giant raised his Odachi, expecting a predictable attack. Ken was five meters away. He raised his knife as if to attack. And then, he threw it. The knife spun through the air, straight for the eye slit in the Regent's mask.

It was a move so stupid, so suicidal for a warrior, that it confused the Regent. By pure reflex, the monster moved its head slightly to dodge the steel. It was the opening Ken needed.

"Now!"

Ken slid across the wet ground, passing beneath the Regent's guard. He no longer had weapons. Only his fists and his legs. The Regent tried to stomp on him. Ken rolled to the left. The Regent swiped a hand. Ken ducked. Ken trusted his body more than any weapon.

He pushed himself upward, coming face to face with the giant's armored abdomen. "TAKE THIS!"

Ken pivoted his hips, channeling all of his scarce but concentrated Kijin energy into his right fist, and struck.

He didn't hit the hard armor. He struck right at the flexible joint between the breastplate and the groin protection. THUD!

The impact was solid. The Regent let out a grunt of air, taking half a step back.

In the distance, Kazuha, who had just blown a zombie's head off with his grenade launcher, watched the scene with his mouth agape. "Impossible!" he shouted. "He hit him! That guy is almost as amazing as Tanimoto!"

But the euphoria was temporary. The Regent stopped retreating. He looked down at Ken, who was panting with his fist still extended. The monster's silence changed. The atmosphere of play disappeared, replaced by a thirst for blood. He had been touched. Twice. By the same insignificant human. His ego, inflated by years of invincibility, had just been wounded.

"GWAAAAH!"

The Regent roared and, with a motion Ken couldn't see, threw a backhand with his closed fist. The blow struck Ken in the side. The crack of ribs was audible. Ken shot back like a cannonball, flying ten meters backward, passing right by Kazuha and crashing into the base of a tree.

"Ken!" Kazuha screamed, running toward him.

But the Regent wasn't finished. He hated Ken, but now he hated the witnesses to his humiliation even more. With an inhuman leap, the three-meter giant crossed the distance in a blink. He landed in front of Kazuha. The boy froze, looking up. The Regent's shadow completely covered him. The giant Odachi, a blade capable of cutting tanks, came whistling down toward little Kazuha's neck.

The sword was centimeters from beheading the child.

SHIIIIING! A sharp, clean, perfect sound resonated through the park. The giant sword didn't stop, but it was deflected. A katana, much thinner, shorter, and simpler, had struck the side of the massive blade at the exact angle. The Odachi bit the air to Kazuha's right, and its cutting wave split the apartment building behind them in two, collapsing it with a roar.

Kazuha fell on his backside, trembling, but with his head on his shoulders. In front of him, under the rain, stood a new figure. A figure with an elegant stance, holding a simple katana with a single hand, who had managed to deflect the strength of a god.