It was a cold July morning and the clocks were striking Thirteen. Meanwhile, in School #314 in Room 42, a new student was being introduced to the class.

“This is Tenshi. She just moved here from Japan,” the middle-aged teacher said, cheerfully. Tenshi was short, thin, and austere. Her skin was disturbingly pale, and her blue hair was cut short in a bob. Tenshi bowed respectfully and took a seat next to a boy named Jeremiah Fenchurch. Taking a look at her, Fenchurch saw she had blood red eyes and a fine figure.

Fenchurch was a boy of medium stature; his dark hair concealed his forehead. He was by no means interesting, in sharp contrast to his destiny.

The teacher droned on about the Third World War and how great the New World Order was, but Fenchurch paid her little attention. He found he couldn’t keep his eyes off Tenshi. Her mystery intrigued him; her figure attracted him.

It was towards the end of the day that Tenshi did anything to acknowledge Fenchurch’s stares. She stood, walked over to him, and looked down. He was considerably taller than her, but an observer might not have guessed it. The other students all watched this anomaly.

Suddenly, Tenshi delivered such a blow to his head that Fenchurch was knocked clear out of his seat. There were screams, but Tenshi ignored them. A blade emerged from her sleeve, beneath her wrist. Drawing the sword, she raised it above bleary-eyed Fenchurch for a killing blow.

Suddenly, someone else burst into the room. She was wearing a long, red coat, and had shoulder-length blonde hair. Drawing a revolver from her coat, she aimed and Tenshi and fired.

Red holes appeared in Tenshi’s chest. Stumbling back, the assassin attempted to gain her footing, but was met with more bullets. The red-coated woman, perhaps twenty, drew a sawed-off shotgun from within her cloak and opened fired with both barrels. Tenshi was sent flying by the blast, slamming into the wall. Sliding down, she left a streak of gore.

Red-coat pulled shell-shocked Fenchurch to his feat and dragged him out. Silence filled the classroom; students and faculty alike were cowering the corner. Suddenly, Red-coat poked her head in.

“Sorry for the disturbance,” she cheerfully said, tipped her black beret, and left. There was an awkward silence between her and Fenchurch as they left the school grounds. Finally, as they left the ground and entered the parking lot, Fenchurch forced himself to speak.

“What…?”

“I know you want to know what’s going on,” the woman said, “But all I can tell you is that someone wants to kill you.”

“Huh? Who?”

“Someone from the future.”

This was too much for Fenchurch to handle. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying anything.

“Why?”

“Can’t tell ya, sorry.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m from the future too, and if I tell you, I’ll cause incalculable amounts of destruction.” Fenchurch opened his mouth. “If you ask why, I’ll hit you. Or, worse, present you with a dissertation on Chronophysics.”

“What’s that?”

“The laws of time travel.”

As the drove away in the red sportscar, another question occurred to Fenchurch.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re getting away from Unit Zero, and hopefully out of country.”

“Unit… Zero? Is that Tenshi?”

“If that’s the thing that tried to kill you, then yes.”

“What is she, exactly?”

“A bio-engineered organism, designed for the purposes of espionage and assassination. It was sent back to kill you.”

“Why?”

“I. Can’t. Tell. You. What part of that didn’t you understand?”

Fenchurch fell silent. After a quiet ride out of town, the woman reached out and turned on the radio. Some light rock came on, typical love music. Rolling her eyes, the woman changed the station. A hard rock song came on. She grinned.

“I love First Century music,” she said.

Fenchurch looked confused. “First Century? But this is-”

“Oh, where – or when – I come from, we use a whole different dating system. Right now, we are in the First Century Before Current Era. My current era, anyway.”

“That’s a tad confusing,” said Fenchurch.

“Of course.”

An ancient suspension bridge was in the distance. There was a faint beeping, then the bridge exploded. Debris rained from the sky as cables snapped and its midsection collapsed into the water. Cars slid into the murky river and people scattered. The woman slammed the breaks and skidded to a halt, driver-side door turned to the ruined bridge.

Inside, red-coat cursed. “Somebody means business.”

Fenchurch glanced at her as she climbed out of the car. Remaining inside, he saw her quickly glance around, then reach for her gun. Suddenly, Tenshi, now in military camouflage, appeared, standing before the ruined bridge. Red-coat drew a revolver, but Tenshi had her own firearm. Grabbing the AK-47 Rifle, the assassin raked the ground with led. A red circle appeared in Red-coat’s leg; she collapsed, gritting her teeth. However, she was down but not out: pulling the shotgun from within her coat, she fired both barrels at the ill-fated Tenshi, who was blown into the water.

Fenchurch jumped out the car and ran to Red-coat’s side. The woman was wrapping bandages around her leg, despite the fact her eyes were tearing with pain.

“Are you alright?”

The woman nodded, biting her lip. “I’ve had half a breast blown off by a shotgun. I’ll be fine.”

Fenchurch did a double take, but failed to comment. “We’ll have to get a boat,” said Red-coat, as she got to her feat. “Bastards…”

“How did Tenshi get here?” asked Fenchurch, bewildered.

“She didn’t,” said Red-coat, grumpily. “That was just a clone, probably sent a few minutes after we killed the first one.”

“You mean there are more than one Tenshi?”

“‘Tenshi’ is an alias. There wasn’t a human soul inside that clone, just a computer program. It has a designation, not a name. In case you’re wondering, we’ve killed both Units Zero-One and Zero-Two. They should give up on this design soon.”

“And send something worse,” predicted Fenchurch. Red-coat grinned and shrugged. Supporting the woman’s weight, Fenchurch lead her off down river, towards the city. It was a few hours before they found a dock. Several boats were moored there, but no people were present. Neither were the keys to any of the boats.

“No problem,” said Red-coat. She climbed up onto one boat, and signaled for Fenchurch to join her. As he climbed aboard, she pointed behind her, presumably for Fenchurch to stand there. He did so, and for a few moments, silence reigned. Suddenly, Red-coat fell over backwards. He grabbed her as she fell, and eased her unconscious form to the ground. About thirty panicked seconds later, she woke up.

“What was that about?” he asked, bewildered.

“That? I just took a little trip down the timestream.” She raised the keys to the boat to eye level and shook them. Turning on the boat, she headed off downriver, away from the city.

“Who are you, anyway?” asked Fenchurch. Ironically, the question had just occurred to him.

“Me? Oh, my name is Yae Corona. Major Corona, of the Clocktower Agency, but you can just call me ‘Yae’.” She gave a wink and returned to the controls.

---

The Government had arrived at School #13. There, it found confused reports of shootouts, swordfights, and all-around confusion. It was Agent Gendo Trench’s duty to make sense of this situation. He was a tall, emotionless man, face devoid of feeling. His chaotic, unkempt black hair and his small goatee gave his face a little personality, but it didn’t help much. He had a cold and unfriendly appearance, a reflection of his personality.

At the moment, he was standing before the mangled corpse of a girl reportedly named Tenshi Torikawa. However, that was the disturbing part: there was no Tenshi Torikawa in the government records; all the documents she had used to get into the school were forged. Her parents’ names were made up; the address that had been filled out was an age-old factory on the outskirts of town. This girl, for all intents and purposes, should not exist.

The body was picked up and placed in a body bag. Trench sighed and began to interview the witnesses, who gave bizarre, oft conflicting, accounts of what had transpired.

Gendo happened to be the morgue when something bizarre happened. He was going to observe the autopsy, when the corpse, still within the body bag, began to move. Gendo maintained a mask of calm, but the two doctors screamed and cowered in the corner. The bag burst open, revealing Tenshi’s bloody form. However, many of her wounds had healed. Still injured, certainly, but alive. Tenshi’s red eyes scanned the room before turning to Gendo.

“I require medical assistance,” she said, rather bluntly. Gendo looked to the two men in the corner.

“Aid her,” he said, coldly. The two men, more frightened of Gendo then the re-animated corpse, scurried to obey.

“So, who are you?” asked Gendo, as the girl’s wounds were bandaged.

“I am…” there was a silence. “Tenshi.”

“False,” Gendo said. “There are no records of anyone by your name. Now, why do you want to kill Jeremiah Fenchurch, and why did you go to such great lengths to do it discreetly?”

The girl remained silent, until the men finished wrapping her in bandages. Sliding down from the table, Tenshi began to speak. “I was given a mission to slay Jeremiah Fenchurch. However, I feel no need to complete it. However… he still has something... I need.” Tenshi walked up to Gendo and decked him with ease. Stunned, Gendo could not resist as she took his weapon and left the morgue. The agent stumbled to his feet and pressed the Alert button on the wall. No one could break out of a GPF base with their life.