The darkness went away.
It didn't lift slowly like the morning mist. It was ripped out of his head like a rotten tooth, leaving a painful, screaming gap where the good, hard fight had been.
Inosuke slammed his eyes open.
What is this?
The air was wrong. It didn't smell like mud and blood and wet leaves. It smelled like clean metal and too-strong medicine, a cloying, sickly scent that made his nose twitch with suspicion. He was lying on something soft and springy a bed, though he didn't know the word. He knew it was weak, unlike the hard rock and packed earth he preferred.
He was still wearing the Boar Mask. Good.
But the light! It was everywhere. Hard, white, blinding light that came from the ceiling, not the sky. It hurt his eyes even behind the mask. He was surrounded by straight, polished walls and humming machines that pulsed with confusing, weak life-energy.
The cave is gone.
The fight is gone.
The tall, soft-smelling freak who tricked me is gone.
He tried to stretch, but his legs felt heavy, and his limbs felt stiff and slow. The powerful, constant focus he kept the thing that made his blood sing and his lungs burn with clean air was muffled, like being trapped underwater.
A sound nearby made him twitch. A low, synthetic whirring.
He saw the things. Four of them.
They were shiny, long, metal DEMONS. They had spindly arms and glowing, emotionless eyes. They were standing perfectly still, like hunters waiting for the prey to stop thrashing. And they were watching him.
"HAAAAAAHH! DEMONS! Too weak to wear meat! I see you!"
Inosuke screamed, the sound echoing painfully off the hard walls. He threw the blanket off his small body. It sailed through the air, hitting one of the skinny metal demons, which stumbled slightly, letting out a confused, mechanical beep.
He was five years old, but his mind had the primal cunning of a thousand wild pigs. These shiny demons had trapped him in this smooth, white cage. He had to smash it all.
He jumped off the bed, his feet hitting the smooth floor. His limbs felt sluggish, still heavy from the tricks the tall freak had used, but his instinct was already screaming orders to his muscles.
He needed a weapon. He looked around frantically. His swords were gone! The jagged, beautiful Nichirin blades were nowhere.
His eyes landed on a long, metal object bolted to the wall a support arm for one of the medical machines.
That will do.
With a screech of pure rage, Inosuke launched himself at the wall. He grabbed the metal arm, twisting his small, incredibly strong body with unnatural leverage. His joints popped, allowing him to throw his full weight into the object. CRACK! The support arm snapped at the base.
He now had a heavy, two-meter-long metal pole a perfect substitute for a sword.
The four metal demons finally moved, their lights flashing red. They began to speak in a flat, meaningless language.
"Intruder alarm activated. Subject is volatile. Initiate restraint protocol!"
Inosuke didn't hear words. He heard the buzzing of weak demons trying to trap him.
He raised the pole high above his head, using his unparalleled core strength to wield the heavy metal like a simple stick.
"BEAST BREATHING! FOURTH FANG! SLICE AND DICE!"
He attacked with blinding speed, a whirlwind of furious, untamed strikes. He didn't know the graceful forms of swordsmanship, only the savage cuts needed to butcher prey. The heavy pole became a deadly, spinning blur.
CRASH! CRUNCH!
The first shiny demon went down, its head smashed by a powerful, horizontal sweep. The second demon tried to grab him, but Inosuke pivoted, dropping into a low crouch and swinging the pole up in a ferocious uppercut that ripped through the demon's torso, spraying white fluid everywhere.
"HAHAHA! I AM STRONGEST! YOU ARE ALL JUST WEAK MEAT!"
The remaining two demons backed away, their protocols panicking.
Suddenly, the far door to the white cage hissed open. Two figures rushed in.
The Tall Soft Freak (Master Zho) and the Young, Fidgety Freak (Satele Shan) were back. And they were surrounded by the same sickly calm energy that had tricked him into sleep.
"Stop! Child, we mean you no harm!" Master Zho yelled, rushing forward with his hands raised, projecting a wave of gentle, calming Force energy.
Inosuke felt the wave hit him that awful, soft, sickening weakness. It was trying to trick his body into calming down!
"DEEEEEMONS! YOU LIE! I'LL SLICE YOUR SOFT HEADS! YOU'RE NOT THE STRONGEST!"
His rage boiled, and his breathing intensified. He instinctively shifted his focus, locking his diaphragm and roaring, boosting his body's internal power to Force-Accelerate his metabolism, burning off the last dregs of the Temple's sedatives. He gripped the pole, its metal grating in his hands, and charged the tall Jedi.
"BEAST BREATHING! SECOND FANG! SLICE!"
He launched a complex series of rapid, sweeping strikes, aimed at the Jedi's legs and midsection, movements too fast and too wild for any conventional defense. He was fighting like a beast in the jungle, aiming for the fastest kill.
Master Zho, experienced but slow, barely managed to leap backward, his robes tearing slightly as the metal pole whistled past.
Satele, quicker and more flexible, ducked low, her eyes wide. "He's too fast, Master! He's using the Force to enhance his movements!"
"Do not engage physically, Padawan! His focus is absolute!" Zho commanded. "He is terrified!"
Inosuke didn't care about their screaming. He just wanted to break the walls and escape to the mountains. He screamed insults, the only language he knew for predators who hid their true strength.
"YOU'RE ALL JUST BUNCH OF SQUISHY-HEADED WEAKLINGS! I AM THE KING OF THE MOUNTAIN! I'LL SMASH YOUR FAKE SKY CAGE!"
He raised the pole high, ready to bring it down and smash the holoscreen displaying his high Midi-chlorian count.
That was the moment the three Jedi struck back, not with weapons, but with the Force itself.
Master Zho, Master Sinube (who had quietly entered behind the young Jedi), and Satele Shan all reached out simultaneously. They didn't push him, they didn't choke him, and they didn't confuse his mind.
They created a single, cohesive, crushing Force Clamp.
The pole stopped mid-swing. Inosuke's arms locked instantly, muscles freezing hard as rock. His small body was suddenly immobilized from his neck to his feet, held in place by an invisible, unyielding, universal grip.
Inosuke thrashed, his small body straining with superhuman effort against the Force, but he couldn't move an inch. He was trapped in the hardest cage he had ever encountered.
"GAAAAHH! LET ME GO, YOU SOFT DEMONS! I'LL SLICE YOU! I'LL EAT YOU!" he shrieked, tears of frustration and pure, terrifying helplessness streaming down his face beneath the mask.
Master Zho approached the rigid, screaming child, his face a mask of weary determination.
"It's over, child," Master Zho said, his voice soft, yet firm. "You are safe. We are Jedi. We are here to help you."
But Inosuke didn't hear "help." He heard the voice of a stronger predator, and he hated it.
"I AM STRONGEST! MY NAME IS INOSUKE HASHIBIRA! REMEMBER THAT! I WILL CUT YOU!" he roared, his voice cracking with exertion, before his body, utterly exhausted from the fight, finally went limp in the Jedi's Force grip.
Master Zho looked at Satele, who was panting slightly from the effort of maintaining the Force Clamp. "His name, Satele. He finally gave us his name."
Satele, wiping sweat from her brow, looked at the small, twitching figure. "Inosuke Hashibira. And he wants to slice us."
Master Sinube sighed, stepping over the wreckage of the medical droids. "We have his name, and a severely damaged medical bay. You are all going to pay for this."