The young tactician sighed. "That girl is something else." He set about fixing his office as he cleaned up the paper work. He got the feeling that this was just the start of his problems with her. He worked with quiet efficiency, once he had completed the surviving forms he went into his personal chest in the corner producing a field of units painted red and blue each hand craved, this set had belonged to Robin, passed down between generations he began his work planning and scheming. To most others it looked like a game of chess but to him  it was a art, the art of guiding deadly warriors into the fray and watching them clash until only the superior warrior walked away alive.

The Grand Master had left and sat alone on a park bench, his old bones tired from running. He could since something dark on the horizon, something more terrible than war. He waited calmly, he knew this was his end, he had once had a long conversation with Tiki, she said he would be the kind to die in war. He knew it, by the time this war was over he would be dead, now it was more important than ever, Jacob had succeed him, the boy was young but so he when he had taken over the role. The old man looked forlorn and with a sad voice he looked at the sky and spoke. "Naga, give that boy luck, he will need it for what you have planned."