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"There is someone here at work against us," Kayura proclaims in what once was Talpa's throne room. She stands in front of the throne, the staff of the ancients in her hand, the cloth of her yoroi shifting in a breeze from somewhere.

"The imbalance, then?" Dais asks. He no longer kneels before this throne, this place he once revered, thought of as his only reason for living. Now, he stands. He does not have to bow to Kayura, though he often does so, out of respect for the choice she came to make, and the trials Talpa, once his lord and master, put her through.

"It may be so. I am sensing a shadow in the realm of mortals, once again," Kayura speaks evenly, an indication of the tension in her voice. "I cannot fathom how, when we are the rulers of the dynasty, and after we have locked all the remaining Netherspirits away."

"As long as there is evil and malice in the human heart, the war will always continue," Dais declares, his one good eye narrowing. "It was Talpa's greatest hope that, even if he was defeated, he would one day rise again solely by the force of negative emotion and negative action. If Talpa has risen again, even as a spirit, he would command enough power to bring back the army of soldiers once at his command."

"I cannot understand why there is one on Earth," Kayura shakes her head. As she does so, the staff of the ancients shakes as well, tinkling like a wind chime. "Dais, I now charge you with the task of reuniting all five of the Ronin Warriors. You must let your armor guide you to them. Know that there are at least five armor-bearers in Tokyo, but only two are Ronins. If your armor leads away from Japan, follow its path. You will know the course once you step upon it."

"Wakarimas, Kayura-san," Dais says, bowing. When he faces her again, he asks, "What of Kale and Sehkmet?"

"They are hidden from my sight. I no longer sense them, or know where they are." Kayura looks into the outstretched wings on top of the staff, as if they would provide her with an answer. "I suspect that the shadow, in whatever manifestation it has taken, has them under its sway. They were once imbued with the power of the Netherworld, given to them by Netherspirits. That power has never left them, as it has never left you, Dais of the Spider. Be on your guard at all times, for whatever evil you encounter will surely wish to bring you over to its own cause."

"I will be careful," Dais declares. Then, without another word, he is gone from the throne room.

Dais arrives in a town he doesn't recognize. The air is cloudy with exhaust fumes; the sky is very nearly obscured by dark gray smoke. He arrives in his casaul clothes, a loose, yellow T-shirt, blue jeans with an occasional hole or two in the legs and sneakers. He has worn his armor for so long and so often that walking around in real clothes seems strange to him. Yet, he must look ordinary- as ordinary as he can while wearing an eyepatch- in order to blend in. Any one of the Ronin Warriors might be in this town, and they wouldn't recognize him right away. Well, Hardrock probably would.

The buildings are squat, round and look like abortions of ability. They were originally white, but now there are stains running down their sides. Dais sees what he thinks might be Mexicans pass by him, some giving him strange looks, most looking at the ground. An open air acoustic guitar store is the right him. Dais asks in Spanish to the shop owner, "Have you seen any foreigners here?"

The shop owner rubs his face, which is only half-shaven and rough, then says, "I have. Some lanky man with yellow hair falling over his face."

"Can you tell me how long ago this was?" Dais clenches his fist, anxious at the prospect of finding Sage.

"Must have been two-three days ago. Can't say if he's still here or not." The shop owner picked up a guitar, looked at it blankly and strummed one of the chords. Then, he looked up at Dais. "You gonna buy or are just gonna stand there like a cat who's lost his tail?"

"Thank you for the information," Dais replies, then coughs. He can't for the life of him imagine what would bring Sage to this dirty, depressing place, though he aims to find out.

Dais turns around to look at the stranger addressing him. "I am called Dais. I am looking for Sage of the Nimbus. How are you acquainted with him?"

"I would prefer to state my business to him directly, to spare myself from repeating my story. Moreover," Dais says, rubbing a hand on his chin, "it is something of a delicate answer. Let me ask you this: do you have an armor?"

"Very well," Dais says. He does not wait for Korin to lead the way, but heads upstairs himself. There is only one room, and he goes inside, sits down on a chair and waits.

Dais remains calm, though, inside, his thoughts are racing. Kayura had charged him to find the five Ronin Warriors, yet, here, before him sat the bearer of an armor, an armor that had somehow managed to tangle itself into history. "I would hear you elaborate on what your armor has done. Though I was not charged to find you, I cannot dismiss your presence as coincidence. There has to be a reason you are here."

"The last of the Ancients is the one who has sent me," Dais replies, "She is Lady Kayura, master of the Netherworld. She believes there is imbalance in the armor, which can only be solved by gathering the five Ronin Warriors together.

"I see it as a herald that Talpa may yet return."