For his part, Shinjiro cursed when he realized the team had been separated. Tartarus was in fine form tonight, and he was thoroughly sick of it. He let out an aggravated sigh as he looked around. It was dark enough that he had trouble seeing, but he was pretty sure there was only one way for him— forward. So he hefted his axe over his shoulder and started forward, intent on finding Minako and the others and getting on with it.

Being back in the fight again still felt odd to Shinjiro, although this certainly wasn't his first excursion since his unexpected return. The axe felt both familiar and unusual at the same time, and Castor rested heavily inside his head. There was that quiet, uneasy feeling that he would lose control again—

No. Not now. Shinjiro shook his head to clear the thoughts from his head. There were times to dwell on the past, but in the middle of Tartarus wasn't one of them.

Shinjiro paused suddenly as he heard a noise. His eyes tracked through the darkness, searching... searching...

"Aw, crap!" he cried out, swinging his axe into ready position. Although Fuuka's voice wasn't ringing out to warn him, he could tell this was one of the stronger Shadows.

And he would have to face it alone. Wonderful. In the corner of his mind, he cursed Akihiko for dragging him back.