[Center][Img=http://i.imgur.com/95IjeNZ.jpg][/Center] The creature known as Pye had often left Bushi confused and ponderous. The way she hid behind the angel construct: it reminded him of his time as a Kami. Feeling the world second-hand, being known only by the form you experience the world in...She was the spirit behind the Peacekeeper's base. She was like the headquarters’ own godly spirit. ...and that was a lonely life, indeed. The mission was explained quickly, and it was made quite shocking at that. It seemed they were under attack: and that knowledge had prompted the Air-headed one to bring Team Moon its equipment. Among the team, Bushi was unique in that he did not have to wear the uniform. Upon joining the group, and upon being informed of the uniform, Bushi had staunchly disagreed. Mia and Bushi were set to battle for the right to decide if he should wear the uniform, yet the elders had forbidden the pair from fighting again, on account of breaking the previous simulator room. Mia had made the mistake of offering Bushi the choice of competition... Bushi chose a drinking competition, and despite Mia's impressive regenerative factor: she could not out-drink a god. He agreed to carry around the badge and the communicator, but nothing else that he did not wish to wear. Instead of the white attire everyone else wore, Pink-haired-girl brought along an unusual for Bushi. It was a quiver of sorts: except instead of arrows, it held thirty metal poles. The metal poles were...well...remarkably ordinary looking. They were roughly the size of an arm, and had no discernible weaponised features. They looked more akin to the tools of a builder than a warrior. The saving grace though, was when the pink haired one handed Bushi a wine gourd. The slightly sullen kami's face lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree, and he wrapped an arm around the Banshee's shoulders and brought her into a strong embrace. "Thank you, lass; you know how to make a man happy!" Tying the gourd to his belt and slinging the quiver over his back, Bushi offered a nod to Mia, as she led the group to the Humvee. It was a quiet drive, and Bushi enjoyed the anticipation for a battle. It was a rare opportunity for Bushi to stretch his muscles, as it were. He would use the opportunity to show off in front of the new prince: since all he'd done so far is provide a convenient source of liquid. Arriving at the building, the team began to ascend and soon, Mia asked Bushi to join her at point. It was the most common tactic among the group: Mia and Bushi would annihilate the majority of enemies; any stragglers were picked off by whoever was left. The lovely Kitsune offered support, and now the Prince-ling could do the same thing. Angel covered the other side of the group, in case there was a sneak up. He could at least hold his own, even if he was no match for Bushi or Mia in a fair fight. Thankfully, Angel rarely needed to fight fair. The order was to put on gas masks, and Bushi slipped his on happily. One of the whole deals with his sentience is that he could suffer human injuries, to a certain extent. He needed to breath, just like everyone else: even if he didn't need to eat or drink. The mask wasn't overly restrictive to his breathing: and he suspected that it probably had some sort of handy feature or two. The Peacekeepers never seemed without a trick up their sleeves. They reached floor thirty in what seemed like no time at all. Mia was taking the lead, as was her right. The leader called the shots, and she called them well. It started with fire-control, and then crowd control. It looked like a helpless bystander, but he wasn’t acting in pain or anything. Mia was moving forward before Bushi even noticed. “Mia, wait!” Too late. She was bitten by the creature and suddenly she was lashing out with the odd claw-blade she so favoured. More undead were pouring out of the woodworks and suddenly Bushi drew two metal poles from the quiver. In his hands, the metal seemed to shimmer and shift. Soon, metal poles had become two short katanas. Bushi looked incredibly menacing with two swords in hand: so much so that he seemed to physically fill out his shirt slightly more. Just as Mia was lashing out at undead, Bushi surged towards the nearest creature: decapitating it and skewering a blade through the eye socket in less time than it took to slice bread. He moved like a dervish: slicing through anything stupid enough to come close. After the forth undead, he had to leave a sword lodged inside its eye socket, only for Bushi to near-instantly replace the lost weapon with an axe. Again, Bushi’s body mass seemed to shift, as his muscles further filled out his clothing. “This is a fun little first mission for the prince: Nice and easy!” As he spoke, he caved in an undead creature’s skull: creeping close to double digits now. He was grinning like the happiest of campers. Bushi enjoyed the blood-work far too much.