I never wanted to leave the Bronx, but a weird alien guy in a funny hat gave me a magic samurai armor and told me to save the world. Who could argue with that? I didn’t count on having to work with a bunch of misfits more likely to fight each other than an interdimensional dictator. But here I am.The four of us are supposed to work together, but we don’t even like each other. I didn’t sign up for this. None of us did, and no matter how hard we try, we can’t be a family. We’re barely even a team. So when my old buddy shows up with a job—ok, a questionably legal job—and a way out of this freak show circus, well—I guess I’ll have to decide if the world really needs me after all.

Karl Goodson isn’t the most reliable of people, but when circumstances force him to pick up a priceless engagement ring for a friend, he answers the call happily. At least, he does until he finds a whole plaza full of food trucks. Then all bets are off. Surely stopping for tacos won’t hurt anything, right? When he realizes that he’s lost the ring, he figures it must have fallen into one of the dozen or so food trucks he’d visited. So it’s up to him and the rest of the Reishosan to find the ring before it’s lost for good. The only question: Is it possible for a super-powered samurai warrior to defeat a vicious guard Chihuahua?

I always thought America was full of cowboys, but turns out it’s mostly hipsters and beach bums. Or maybe that’s just San Francisco. I’m Stan Hawthorne—undercover superhero and first-chair violinist in my year nine high school orchestra—but the bad guys call me Kagami, after my samurai water armor. It’s like my secret identity. Brilliant, eh? I live in a giant mansion near the bay with an old archaeologist and a bunch of other boys he adopted who also have super-powerful samurai armors. We’re supposed to save the world from an evil emperor or something, but mostly the lads just fight with each other, while I try not to fail algebra. Every once in a while, a little robot soldier shows up, just to make life interesting. Usually when I’m trying not to be awkward around a girl. Or when my best mate, Karl, is too busy stuffing his face with tacos to be helpful. But a few days ago, on the way home from school, I tangled with a soldier who wasn’t like the others. I mean, this bloke was bad news. I thought fighting samurai soldier robots was bad enough. Blimey, was I wrong.