No matter what happens to me, I’m glad Mia is safe.

Sam stretched his arms out over his head, feeling the cool slide of his sub-layer of armor against his skin. The green-and-white battle gear clanked and settled with the motion of his arms, and he turned in place to peer behind him into the darkness.

He’d exchanged his full armor for the battle gear layer to make his way through the darkness. It was easier to move around in, and it was definitely less conspicuous.

Another part of the tunnel had collapsed somewhere nearby, and he would have sworn he’d heard a scream. He half expected someone would come running out at him. Not that he could see anything in the pitch black darkness of the abandoned tunnel. But if someone were to run into view, seeing a giant green samurai towering over them probably wouldn’t be comforting.

At least there’d been enough time for Mia to get Gideon and the Doc to safety. The last thing he needed was having the three of them loose and running around unchecked in an abandoned metro station.

He picked his way along the dead rails carefully.

Surely somewhere along the way there would be a stairwell he could use to get back to the surface. A maintenance shaft maybe. Just something.

Soldiers in DC. Why?

He ducked under a collapsed archway and felt along the wall as he pressed forward through the black.

And Jinsoku too. What are they doing here? Soldiers haven’t showed their faces in DC since I left.

His stomach tightened.

At least, not that I know about.

What were the chances DC was overrun with soldiers? Maybe leaving DC had been a bad idea to begin with. It sure hadn’t improved his life, that was certain. Korin had told him teaming up with the other armor-bearers was the best, wisest option. Even ten years ago, Sam had doubts.

He’d never needed help before. He’d certainly never needed a team before. And from what he’d experienced with the Reishosan so far, he’d been far better off alone.

Sam stopped and adjusted his neck and arms again. He’d struck the ground shoulders first after the road had collapsed under him.

Rubble fell to the dirt ahead of him.

He clenched his fists. Best case scenario: It was a soldier. He could take out a soldier easily, even if he was only in his first layer of armor. Next best option: A random person from the street. He could call down his battle gear with a word, and he could blame any flashing of light on the intermittent sparks emanating from the ceiling. Potential option: Jinosku.

That would suck. He’d just taken his armor off. He didn’t really want to put it back on again, in the heat and the closeness of the dark tunnel. Hinode weighed him down, made it feel like dragging a boatload of equipment with him wherever he went.

More dirt and rocks shifted up ahead.

Of course, there was a worse option. It was one he didn’t even want to consider. All three at once.

The worst possible thing that could happen was having civilians, soldiers, and a maniacal warlord all traipsing around in an unstable underground tunnel at the same time.

The closer he got to the shifting rocks and dirt, the more it sounded like footsteps. And soft humming?

Sam stepped around a fallen chunk of Connecticut Street and peered into the black, his eyes adjusting more quickly than he expected. It was still dark, but he could see his hand in front of his face. And he realized that there was a worse option than he’d anticipated.

Why me?

Shuffling through the darkness up ahead, Gideon Montgomery hummed quietly to himself as he navigated with a hand pressed against the tunnel wall.

And just how exactly am I supposed to do this? He felt like screaming. I can’t exactly wear my armor for this.

He bowed his head. “Kieru so.” He said it as softly as he could, and the battle gear faded from his body, leaving him in his khakis, button-down shirt, and suit jacket.

“Hello?” Gideon stopped short up ahead and turned back, tilting his head to strain his hearing.

Sam fought the urge to sigh.

It was fine. He could play it off like he’d fallen down the tunnel too. No big deal. Just hang out, and they’d be rescued soon.

Because that’s exactly how the rest of this is going to play out. Not.

“Gideon?” he called.

The old man’s face lit up with a brilliant smile. “Sam!” He turned from the wall, reaching his arms out in Sam’s direction.

Sam stood and went to him, taking his hand and allowing the old man to pull him into a tight hug.

“Sam, my boy, what’s going on? What’s happening?”

Sam shut his eyes and looked away.

“One moment, we were getting ready to eat, and then folks started yelling and running.” Gideon patted Sam’s shoulders. “And then Mia was pushing me through an alley.”

“Then what happened?” Sam squeezed the old man’s shoulders. “What happened to Mia?”

He’d just assumed Mia was back at the hotel safe and sound. But what if she wasn’t? What if she hadn’t escaped the attack? What if she was trapped down in the tunnels, lost and alone and hurt?

Gideon took a shaky breath. “I lost her. The whole world just turned upside down, and I woke up—well—wherever here is.”

“Under Connecticut.”

Gideon nodded slowly. “I wondered about that. I knew there were old tunnels down here, but I wasn’t expecting the road to fall apart.”

Sam scowled.

Nobody expected it. It wasn’t supposed to happen. Then again, DC wasn’t exactly built with the infrastructure required to withstand super-powered samurai armors fighting on them.

“Are you hurt?” Sam asked.

Gideon shook his head. “Bumps, bruises, scratches—nothing a man needs looked at.” 

“Come on.” Sam took Gideon’s arm and tucked it into his own. “We’ll keep walking. Maybe we can find an exit together.”

Supporting Gideon on one arm, Sam ushered them through the darkness.

“What happened up there?” Gideon asked. “Sounded like a war.”

Sam made a face. “Something like that.”

It was a good question. What exactly had happened? The soldiers had attacked, obviously, but why? And why was Jinsoku even there? He had nothing to do with the people in Washington DC. Maybe he did years ago, but not now. Not when Sam had been living in California for nearly ten years. All the action was there.

So why now? Why come back to DC?

“Haven’t you ever heard that you’re supposed to stay put until rescue teams can find you?” Sam growled at his old friend.

Gideon laughed and hobbled steadily at Sam’s side.

“I’m not staying put, boy. That’s not my style.”

“Your style, Gid? You haven’t got a style.”

Gideon laughed.

“Besides, it’s pitch black down here. Nobody was going to be able to find you.”

“Well, it’s good you came along when you did,” Gideon said. “Otherwise you’d be lost too.” Gideon laughed. “It’s just like a normal walk at the mall for me, except it don’t smell like pretzels.”

Sam shook his head.

Maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe Gideon and I can just find a stairwell and get back to the surface without any trouble. As long as the soldiers keep their distance, we’ll be fine.

“You gonna tell me what actually happened up there?” Gideon elbowed him.

Sam glared. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, boy. Whatever caused that mess upstairs. That wasn’t a cop shootout.”

“Well what do you think it was?”

“Terrorists.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Terrorists.”

“They’re everywhere these days.”

“Right. Terrorists.” Sam guided him around a chunk of concrete in the middle of the tunnel floor.

He’s not exactly wrong. Thallia could be called a terrorist.

“This is a war, boy.” Gideon squeezed his arm. “Mark my words. Ever since they came after us in 2001, we’ve been waiting for them to try again.”

“Uh-huh.”

Gideon started rambling about wartime memories from Korea, his life aboard a US Naval submarine, suffering through the horrible military rations and the even worse local cuisine. It was the same story Sam had heard over and over throughout his childhood.

Sam tuned him out.

What actually had happened on the street? The soldiers had attacked, yes. Jinsoku had been there, yes. But something had gone wrong. Something happened that had turned his blood cold.

The image of the sword blade punching through Stan’s chest plate flashed in front of his eyes.

He nearly stopped walking, almost stumbled, but doing that would tip Gideon off. It was amazing Gideon hadn’t picked up on his increased heart rate.

Stan took a hit.

A bad one.

And—then what?

The street caved in?

Had Jinsoku attacked again? Used his armor’s power to obliterate the street? No, it hadn’t been Jinsoku. Even in the times when Jinsoku had used his power, he didn’t seem to be able to collapse buildings. If he could, they hadn’t seen it yet.

So what happened?

He scanned his memories. His head had been jostled around quite a bit, so it probably wasn’t a surprise that he was drawing a blank.

Stan got stabbed. Sam frowned. And Karl—flipped.

That was it.

Karl flipped out.

But so what? Karl flipped out all the time. There wasn’t a moment at least twice a day when he wasn’t yelling or screaming about something that ticked him off. Noise and over-dramatic emotion were part and parcel of life with Karl Goodson.

But his armor flipped out too.

Shiren had caused the blast. Sam knew it as confidently as he knew himself. Somehow, either through witnessing Stan’s injury or through Karl’s distress, Shiren initiated some kind of huge earthquake.

That didn’t make sense, of course, because the armors weren’t sentient. Shiren couldn’t just decide to start an earthquake because it was upset or scared, and they were just armors. Just hunks of metal. They didn’t feel or think or do anything.

No matter what Stan said, no matter what Ronnie thought, the armors were just armors.

So what caused Connecticut Avenue to split wide open?

Sam cast a glance at Gideon, who’d moved on to telling a story about traveling around in a submarine the maintenance crew had painted pink.

Pretty sure he’s talking about a movie now, but I’m not interrupting.

Sam peered through the darkness and sighed. “If I knew where we were, I’d be more confident about where we were going.”

Gideon stopped talking about pink submarines and flashed a smile at him. “Oh, don’t worry. This place is one big circle. We can’t get lost.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “No, but we can wear ourselves out.” He swore under his breath. “I just can’t see far enough ahead.”

Gideon cackled. “To do what?”

“Make a plan.”

“A plan?” Gideon laughed. “Boy, the whole street just fell right down in this tunnel. We’re stuck down here in the dark, and you want to make a plan?”

“You don’t?”

“Find the exit.” Gideon patted his hand. “That’s my plan.”

“Inspired.”

Gideon kept chuckling as they shuffled through the dirt, stepping over the rails. “You listen to me, Sam. Being stuck in the dark doesn’t have to be scary.”

“I didn’t say anything about being scared, Gideon.”

“No, of course, not. But the dark can be scary.” Gideon focused his blind eyes on something unseen ahead of them and fixed his stare.

Sam glared at him. “What do you want me to say to that? You think I’m scared of the dark?”

“It’s not about being scared, and it’s not about being stuck in the dark either, boy.” Gideon smiled, his teeth white against the shadows. “It’s about how seeing doesn’t always start in your eyes.”

“Right, Gid.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know you’re serious. I also know you’re crazy.”

Gideon elbowed him. “And you are disrespectful. I should have raised you better. Sent you to your room without dinner more.”

“You did that enough.”

“Well, apparently not.”

Sam scoffed and led Gideon around another large chunk of concrete. He’d just guided the old man to a stop when motion in the darkness made him freeze.

Oh, I hope that was a rat.

Armor clanked in the black.

Sam cursed.

A shower of sparks falling from the ceiling illuminated a giant figure in shimmering yellow armor standing at attention at the heart of the tunnel.

As if this day could get worse.

As the light from the sparks faded, Jinsoku turned to face them, the vague outline of his shape intimidating even when he was mostly hidden.

Sam swallowed.

A soldier, he could have dealt with. The warlord alone might have been doable. But the warlord with Gideon? It wasn’t going to happen. He might as well hand over his sword right now.

“What excellent timing,” the warlord drawled.

Sam gripped Gideon’s arm.

“Oh, is there someone else down here?” Gideon beamed. “Good, maybe he’ll make better conversation than you do.”