A/N三: GOOD MORNING SAN FRANCISCO! XD

A1N: Ignore her, she’s in a…weird…mode sometimes (*cough*Everyday*cough*).

It was quite bright for nighttime, and you would have to squint to make out our surroundings. The moon looked down at us overhead, and the stars, for such small pinpricks of light, glimmered much brighter than they usually did. My eye twitched unconsciously as we stood in front of another strange…thing (person?). I really had no clue whether it was human or not, but it was definitely a relative of the domestic robot.

What is this? A sci-fi convention? I wondered, while absently combing my right hand through my hair, and eying the strange mecha-robot-thing.

Deana seemed to sense my apprehension, and yelled, “Ah! It’s Gabriel!”

“Are you sure?” I asked warily, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope!” she chirped, beaming brightly at me.

“Baka…” I muttered, turning away from my strange dryad friend. If she also turned out to be bipolar, I wouldn’t be surprised.

“Don’t mind her,” K/K told me. “Gabriel is within the mecha you see before you.”

“Really?” I asked skeptically.

My smarter friend, at the moment, nodded, her eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” I replied, turning to face the red, human-shaped robot, with glaring, crimson eyes that were like small puddles of blood in its plated helmet. It had a sheathed Japanese sword— a katana—on either side of its hips. Its arms were board-straight at its sides, as if it were a soldier.

And before my eyes, it kneeled.

Great. Is this the part where he announces the engagement into battle?

Soon after, the head was spun around like a top, and soon after that, it fell off. Underneath the armored head was a boy also around our age, with long, dark purple hair in a loose ponytail.

He popped out his head, and soon after, the rest of his joints, so we were graced with the rest of his outfit. The boy settled for a sitting position on top of the mecha-covering’s shoulder.

The purple-haired boy wore a purple kimono that was a shade lighter than his hair, along with a white hakama that was bound with an obi, tying it at his waist. He wore a katana on each hip, like his former mecha form. His hazel brown eyes glared coolly down at us; it was clear he did not like us being here at all, and nor did he care to make it easy for us.

I recognized his pose and aura from a section of a history book my social studies teacher had given me, and mentally groaned.

Great. A samurai.

He slid down the mecha with ease, and walked towards us.

“Deana, Kari.” He acknowledged calmly, his expression slightly softer.

“It’s been years since we last met.”

“Hiya, Gabriella!” Deana smiled, as she began to prattle happily.

“Don’t call me that,” the samurai-boy—Gabriel—grumbled. He made as if to hold up his left fist as a threat, but after seeing the subtle glance my dryad friend (How many connections does she have? Can it be that she knows more than she’s telling?) tossed his way, he lowered it, and instead rubbed his temples wearily.

“It’s like a reunion from people who haven’t met in years!” Deana continued cheerily, as if that exchange had never happened.

“It is a reu—” For all his troubles, Samurai-boy got a right hook to the shoulder, and he dropped like a stone. Some samurai.

He got up, rubbing his shoulder, an irritated expression on his face.

“Anyway,” Gabriel the idiot began, interrupting Deana’s stream of chatter, and getting an annoyed look in return, “You can’t pass through this territory, unless you successfully pass my challenge.”

“Oh,” I said thoughtfully, tapping my chin. “So, what is it?”

“To defeat me and my mecha,” Gabriel answered; his crankiness passing. A smug look entered his eyes, and I glowered angrily at him. I didn’t like that look one bit.

“Wait! We have to defeat it?” Deana jumped in, somehow managing to look shocked and horrified at the same time. “Can’t you just be like Johann, and let us through?”

His smug expression didn’t change.

“Nope. Sorry, Deana, not even for you,” he added, when the dryad opened her mouth to reply. “I mean, for all I know, you guys could be mass-murderers that have disguised yourselves as the Chosen One and her companions.”

I gave him a flat look.

“Mass-murderers?” I mean, really? How cliché.

Gabriel shrugged, now in a slightly apologetic way.

“Sorry. But paranoia comes with the job.”

“That wasn’t what I me—” I started to say, only for the mecha-boy to cut me off.

“Enough chatting,” he snapped suddenly, eyes hardening. “Prepare for battle.”

A1N: Kaihui, I had good reason for what I did. Because, in a world like the one we have, ya can’t take chances. Gabriel couldn’t just let them through; it’s not plausible.