In the heart of Tokyo, within the glass-and-steel monolith of the World Economy Newspaper headquarters, the air had grown thick with a feverish, electric tension. Big News Morgan stood at the center of his command hub, the blue luminescence of a dozen holographic monitors dancing across his frantic, avian eyes.
"It's here... it's here... it is really here!" Morgan's voice rose from a raspy whisper to a triumphant, jagged squawk that echoed off the soundproofed walls. "There is no mistake! I see that signal! That beautiful, impossible signal! Hahahaha! BAWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
He lunged for his desk, slamming his talons onto the intercom. "Gather everyone! I want every employee with a signal-based Quirk! I want the hackers, the frequency-jumpers, the wave-riders! I want them in the tech hub now! Move!"
The response was a silent, terrifying precision. In Morgan's empire, his mania was the North Star. Across the building, phones were snatched up, and encrypted lines were opened to high-ranking Pro Hero agencies. The news cycle was being forcibly redirected; the digital presses were already being primed for a headline that would reset the global narrative.
"I won't let it escape my hands," Morgan hissed, his shadow stretching long and monstrous across the floor as he watched his fleet of specialists begin to swarm the data. "A big news... a BIG NEWS IS ON! Hahaha! This news will shake the foundations of this world! HAHAHAHA!"
Deep within the Kibi forest, thousands of miles from the frantic hum of the city, Arch was blissfully unaware that he had become the most hunted frequency in history.
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In The kibi forest;
The deeper they marched into the Kibi forest, the more the atmosphere began to shift. The ancient, coiling trees grew so dense that the white fog was forced into narrow, swirling ribbons between the trunks. The silence here was different—heavier, as if the forest itself was holding its breath, watching the two intruders move through its most sacred heart.
Arch walked with a steady, rhythmic pace, his crystal iron cane clicking against the gnarled roots that broke through the earth like the ribs of some subterranean giant. Beside him, Foxxy moved with a fluid, silent grace, his golden fur occasionally brushing against the moss-covered bark
They were completely cut off. Arch had no way of knowing that across the invisible veil, the city of Tokyo was vibrating with the frantic energy of Big News Morgan's ambition. He didn't know that hackers were straining against the void or that Pro Heroes were being briefed on a signal that had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. To Arch, the world consisted only of the damp smell of earth, the rustle of Foxxy's scales, and the persistent, low hum of the power settling in his own marrow.
The deeper they delved into the primeval heart of the forest, the more the wilderness seemed to yield to the ghost of a forgotten civilization. The tangled roots and suffocating vines suddenly gave way to a clearing where a narrow, ancient river cut through the earth, its water running cold and clear over smooth river stones.
Spanning the water was a sight that made Arch come to a dead halt
"A bridge..." he murmured, his voice low with a sudden, sharp curiosity.
It was an old, arched structure crafted from wood so dark it appeared almost black—the legendary iron-wood of Wano that refused to rot. Despite the centuries of neglect and the thick moss clinging to its sides, the bridge stood sturdy, a silent witness to a time when footsteps other than theirs had crossed this water. It was a bombshell of a discovery; where there were bridges, there had been roads. And where there were roads, there had been people
Arch stepped onto the blackened planks, the wood groaning softly under his weight. Foxxy followed, his claws clicking against the surface as he sniffed the air, sensing the lingering scent of old history.
Halfway across, Arch's red eyes caught sight of a small, rectangular plank fastened to the base of the handrail, obscured by layers of grime and dried silt. He knelt, leaning over the edge of the bridge. He reached down, cupping the cool river water in his gloved hand and splashing it against the wood, scrubbing away the filth with a rhythmic, steady motion.
As the grit fell away, ancient characters carved deep into the grain began to emerge. They were sharp and elegant, written in the archaic script of a lost era. Arch traced the carvings with his fingertips, reading the symbols slowly, translating the phonetic weight of the words.
"O-ko-bu-re... To-wn..."
Arch stood up, the name tasted strange on his tongue. He tilted his head, his gaze shifting from the plank to the overgrown path that continued on the other side of the river.
"Okubure Town?" he repeated, his brow furrowing behind the Ram Skull mask. "Gurararara... so this lonely forest used to have a heart."
He looked at Foxxy, whose ears were perked toward the dense foliage ahead. The path beyond the bridge was almost entirely reclaimed by the woods, but now that he knew what to look for, Arch could see the faint, straight lines of a road that once led to a gathering place of men.
"Whatever's left of that town is probably buried under a thousand tons of leaves by now," Arch said, his grip tightening on his cane as he stepped off the bridge and back onto solid ground. "But if there's a town, there's a story. And maybe something worth hitting."
The realization that he wasn't just on a deserted island, but in the ruins of a fallen country, sent a fresh jolt of energy through him. He wasn't just wandering; he was trekking through a graveyard of legends.
ARCH: Let's go foxxy...
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To be continued