[center][h3]Arahabaki - Silver Experience[/h3]
Sandalphon’s [@Lugubrious] / Geralt’s [@MULTI_MEDIA_MAN] vs [color=#0087BD]Ishmael[/color] / [color=red]Leanne[/color] / [color=red]Parvati[/color] / [color=lime]Nao[/color]
[b]Word Count: 8,686[/b] [/center]

[hider= Silver Experience]
With the gauntlet of obstacles behind them, Geralt walked forward with Sandalphon to greet the defenders who were coming to block their progress further. The Witcher wasted no time in drawing his steel blade and casting Quen, eyes narrowed at the enemies before him. The one with the machine like Hal’s drone near her was either a coordinator or a serious threat herself, and he didn’t like not knowing which it was. The woman with the gauntlet he should be able to outreach and avoid more easily than the one with the mace, though he could likely fight her like he did Imlerith. Finally, the one with the twin pistols would be a hassle. 

He started with an aggressive dash, to bait out an attack from Ishmael which he could parry and use to get into her guard. His target moved toward him to help close the distance, but despite her opponent’s impressive stature, her expression didn’t waver, and her composure did not break. She put up her guard when he got into range, then when he didn’t attack, took the initiative herself with a shield bash. If hit it would inflict Blunt Fragility, increasing his susceptibility to impact attacks, even if it didn’t shatter his Quen shield. Even if it meant taking damage, she needed to keep Geralt’s attention, so she continued her assault with big swings from her mace.

Behind her, Nao immediately moved to assist. PDA in hand, she sent her VIGIL drone out to fly toward Geralt’s position. A hit would just deal some damage and knockback, but she gave it the halt command beforehand. It stopped and projected a triangle-shaped field of unstable energy instead, which would remain for the next three and a half seconds, growing in size and power as it did. Right after, she sent a round proximity drone to hang out nearby, ready for Ishmael to touch if she needed it.

While those two set up a gameplan to stall Geralt, Leanne and Parvati went on the offensive. They split to either side of Ishmael, circling around the Witcher to attack Sandalphon. “Yoo-hoo!” Leanne called as she leveled her pistols. At this range Sandalphon had the accuracy advantage, so when the bioroid started blasting the archangel returned fire. Shooting from the hip in a sideways firing stance, she got off two ether bolts while taking a handful of low-caliber rounds in return. Her first missed, but the second hit Leanne’s shoulder, making her wince. By that time, though, Parvati sprinted into Sandalphon’s peripheral vision, too close for comfort. Knowing she couldn’t take aim in time, the archangel flipped her gunstaff in her hands, then turned toward the assassin with a swing at Parvati’s head.

Her opponent went low. “Hup!” Like lightning her gauntlet, Office Supply, struck the side of Sandalphon’s knee in a ruthless hook punch, and the archangel buckled. She went down on one knee, her gunstaff planted for support, but she wasn’t done yet. Sandalphon took her weapon in both hands and jabbed its barrel toward her attacker, then swung it horizontally. Parvati coolly sidestepped the first blow, then dipped back from the second. “Ha-at!” Planting her foot, she jumped forward and delivered a cross to Sandalphon’s jaw that jolted her head sideways. She saw stars, her pupils turned to X’s, and when her vision cleared she could see Leanne a dozen feet away with both pistols aimed at her chest. Leanne winked, then fired, and the bullets knocked the kneeling archangel flat on her back.

Geralt backstepped the shield bash, taking his sword in two hands and swinging at the side of Ishmael’s shield to batter it aside. When the VIGIL drone approached, Geralt watched it warily, keeping away from the machine’s energy field, losing the chance to capitalize against Ishmael and cursing as he parried a swing of the woman’s mace. Around that time, he saw Sandalphon being knocked on her ass and sighed, quickly barking out orders for his Strikers. “Judicator!” He shouted as the massive eldritch horror appeared between Sandalphon and Leanne, screaming to induce stress in both of the angel’s attackers. “Zero, gut the brawler!” he called to the assassin Striker, which dashed at Parvati with katanas at the ready. 

He pulled away from Ishmael as he did, egging her to chase, as he quickly shifted from sword to crossbow, taking a shot at Leanne before turning back to the shield knight and drawing Igni, focusing it into a stream of fire to force her behind her shield, and superheat the metal.

The shrieking abomination took both ladies by surprise, preventing any finishers on Sandalphon as they flinched away from the wretched abyssal terror. With her focus wholly occupied, the last thing Leanne expected was a crossbow bolt, and Geralt was practiced enough with his weapon that he placed his shot even in haste. “Oww!” the bioroid whined as the bolt sliced a gash through the top of her thigh, making her stumble for a moment longer. Meanwhile, Parvati whirled to face her new attacker, eyes narrowed. She dashed away from Zero, then reached out as if grabbing something and yanked it to use Customer Service. Doing so precipitated some sort of silvery glint in front of her, but even if the striker could recognize what had happened, its action had already been decided. The next second Zero bulled straight into a web of slicing wires, and not only did Office Supply boost their damage, it also made them cut into the ninja’s attack by 20%. His efforts went into cutting through the wires instead, and by the time he vanished he’d transferred some slices back to Geralt as well.

Right now though, the Witcher had other problems. When he shifted his focus, assailing two of her allies at once with different summons, his seemingly unremarkable opponent took action. “Pay attention.” Her body shimmered, changing slightly, as if some subtle shift in past events overlaid the World of Light with a slightly different reality. Suddenly Ishmael was decked out in [url=https://i.imgur.com/Sw6gyn2.png]riot gear[/url], her round shield replaced by a tower shield of polycarbonate plastic, and her mace replaced by a pistol. With her target protected by Quen, precise aim wasn’t necessary. She pounded his shield with Quake Rounds, then raised hers to absorb his Igni while backing away. Seeing this, Nao sent out a new sentry drone, and when Ishmael backed into the triangle, it launched her forward at a breakneck pace. She burst from the flames back in her default form, then went low with a high-impact slide kick.

At the same time, Nao threw a proximity mine to Leanne to heal her, and Sandalphon was on her feet as well, and ready to even the playing field. With a slam of her gunstaff she cast Angelic Praise to send out divine ripples, healing her team for 51% followed by another 13% every 3 seconds for the next 15 seconds. Being in Concentration protocol, she also gained Rapid Analysis. This skill certainly did the trick, but the fact that she’d been forced to use it early might be a problem.

The impact of bullets against his Quen shield was the first sign that something was wrong, given that Leanne was not looking at him and also just recovering from being shot. The second sign was the fact that Ishmael looked [i]completely[/i] different. Her completely tanking Igni while backing off wasn’t the worst outcome, however, the hits she’d snuck past earlier, the damage carried over from Zero being hurt, and finally the shots she’d taken with her pistol had managed to crack Quen, leaving Geralt less protected now.

Until Ishmael was suddenly flying at him, boosted by an explosion and sliding along the ground to topple him. Geralt wasn’t quite able to dodge out of the way in time, so he instead crouched while stowing his crossbow, ready to catch Ishmael’s slide with his own claws and grapple her. He wasn’t able to defend Sandalphon from the others just yet, though, and he kicked out at Ishmael to break off from her and get back to his angelic teammate. Scrambling up and drawing his steel sword, he slashed out several times at Parvati while trying to keep her at sword’s length.

The slide hit with more force than Geralt anticipated, partially crushing his claws and inflicting three stacks of Tremor. While that injury would be soothed by Sandalphon’s power, it made him unable to get a good grip on his target. Even if he couldn’t grapple Ishmael, though, he could definitely deal her a kick as she tried to rise that knocked her back down and gave him a moment to his own devices. Parvati fled the moment he went after her, and off to the side, Nao moved to keep her ally in range. As Geralt chased Parvati down, Nao sent another sentry drone that separated her from Geralt with a triangle facing him.

Ishmael stood, a frown engraved on her face. “Ignore me at your own peril.” She shifted again, adopting a different identity. In a flash she changed into [url=https://i.imgur.com/KcsYX1a.png]sailor attire[/url], after reeling back, she hurled a snagharpoon over three feet long at Geralt’s back. In addition to piling up three more stacks of Tremor, it would cause Tremor Burst to turn all that Tremor into stagger, debilitating Geralt enough that Ishmael could start reeling him with her snagharpoon’s rope like a beast from the sea.

Able to focus on Leanne, Sandalphon was able to give a better account of herself. When the archangel received a Warning Shot she found herself marked, with both her attack and her evasive ability diminished, but she returned fire with a well-aimed ether bolt to Leanne’s leg. Though that first hit just slowed the bioroid, the second dropped her, and Sandalphon spotted a chance to finish her off. Just then, Parvati revealed why she’d been so willing to cede ground whenever attacked. “Quickly!” She used Speedy Precision, drawing a wire to slash Sandalphon despite the distance between them.

As the archangel bled from fresh cuts, she saw both Leanne recovering and Geralt harpooned, and had to make a decision. Rather than go for Leanne, she turned toward Ishmael and unloaded suppressive fire. While Ishmael staunchly refused to let her quarry go, she did take a few hits. “...Pain in the ass.”

Geralt stepped away from the triangular field projected by Nao’s drone, a low grumble in his throat at being constantly harassed and dodged. It was getting frustrating, but he took a deep breath, only for the snagharpoon to crash into him and grab hold while staggering him. Unable to properly keep his balance, he felt himself being dragged backwards towards Ishmael and sighed. Fine. If she wanted to die that badly, he’d oblige her. 

He turned violently, grabbing the rope with one hand and slashing at it with his blade using the other to try and sever it with his enhanced strength. He then summoned the Judicator once more, this time ordering it to heal Sandalphon, and quickly fished around in his bags for a Grapeshot bomb, pitching it at Ishamel’s feet to harm and stumble her. 

Finally, he gave Ishmael what she wanted, running right at her and planning to use his speed, strength and size to bowl her right over and pin her into a grapple. 

The sudden slack of her rope being cut sent Ishmael off-balance, and the spray of grapeshot against her unarmored body and scrap-metal shield only made things worse with an agonizing blast of metal shrapnel. “Argh!” She gritted her teeth, squinting as Geralt charged. This was where the going got toughest, the dark before the dawn: when her opponent’s anger drove him to pull out all the stops. As he rushed toward her, she changed identity again, switching from her most fragile version to her most formidable. The moment before the Witcher bulled into her, she exchanged her sailor garb for a huge, heavy suit of [url=https://i.imgur.com/BaeB2MP.png]teal slime[/url], her long hair stained the same color, and she tried to use Corrosive Splash. Instead Geralt tackled her and the two went down. Having lost the clash, Ishmael dealt no damage, but that very loss delivered her assailant a five-stack of both Tremor and Rupture, and regardless of outcome, it heightened Geralt’s aggro. Ishmael struggled beneath Geralt, trying to protect her head with her new shape-shifting baton. Between the aggro and the slime he was here to stay; now she just needed to survive.

Though she didn’t express it any more than usual, Sandalphon wasn’t happy to receive healing from Geralt. It wasn’t just that support was her role; the lingering heal-over-time from Angelic Praise would have been enough to patch her up anyway, so now its aftermath was wasted. She couldn’t really blame him since he couldn’t possibly know how her miracles worked, but the waste still perturbed her. Still, she had bigger problems right now. The moment Geralt got distracted, Parvati used the sentry drone Nao laid down to launch herself instead, speeding back toward Sandalphon. Leanne was up too, also closing in to negate the archangel’s range advantage. They were right back to where they began.

Sandalphon had no intention of letting history repeat itself, though. Raising one fist across her chest, she turned to face Parvati. Seeing something new, the assassin slowed up just enough to be ready to dodge. Then Sandalphon abruptly pivoted, casting her hand -and a Frost Lock- to Leanne instead. That icy cluster took the bioroid by surprise, freezing her in place right as she took aim with her pistols, and as Parvati closed in the archangel vaulted high into the air. There she floated, well out of her foe’s melee range. Of course, Parvati extended her hand to cut from afar with Speedy Precision again, but she didn’t expect her opponent to start shooting on the wing. An ether bolt struck her in the right bicep, eliciting a cry of pain as Parvati’s PDA clattered to and smashed against the ground.

Ishmael’s continuous changes meant that she was an unpredictable opponent. Unpredictable opponents were dangerous. They both had the other exactly where they wanted them, but Geralt had a few more tricks up his sleeve as well. Grimacing through the tremors, he hooked Ishmael’s baton on the crossguard of his sword and made the Sign of Axii before Ishmael’s face, flooding her mind with psychic energy. Taking the distraction that the magic created, Geralt dropped his sword at his side and drew his hunting knife, stabbing it down at Ishmael’s throat to kill her. 

“I’ve got your back!” Before the knifepoint descended, Nao’s proximity drone hit Ishmael and burst with a wave of repulsive force. It both healed her and knocked Geralt a few feet away, saving the tank’s life. She knew he wouldn’t stay back for long, though. “I never let a teammate down,” she stated, hurling VIGIL into the mix. The sentry drone shot out to set up behind Ishmael, the triangle pointed back toward Nao for the purpose of getting her teammate to safety. For the moment though, the redhead’s mind was still addled by Axii as she attempted to rise in her ponderous suit.

Behind them, Parvati took off running to avoid more shots from Sandalphon, one hand on her wounded arm. After another moment Leanne unfroze, shaking off the ice crystals with a shiver. “Talk about the cold shoulder, goodness me!” She took aim and shot up at the floating archangel, her smile murderous. “We’ll have to knock you down a peg or two.”

Still gliding but now peppered by bullets, Sandalphon began to circle around to throw off her attacker’s aim as she returned fire. Neither could really hurt the other like this, but the ineffective firefight gave Parvati the chance to put her weapon skill to good use. Thrusting out her gauntlet, she executed Risk Elimination, and around the airborne archangel closed a snare of razor wires. They bound her tight, pinning her arms and gunstaff against her body, and with a big tug Parvati yanked her out of the sky. Sandalphon landed in a heap, still bound and bleeding thanks to the wires, and Leanne saw her chance. “Sit tight now…” The bioroid submitted a Headquarter Support Request, and from the sky a handful of spotlights locked onto Sandalphon’s position. A moment later a deluge of red canisters began to rain down across a wide area with Sandalphon in the middle. “This will all be over soon~”

Shaking off the repulsive blast that separated him and Ishmael, Geralt was poised to leap in and press the advantage, but the sound of Sandalphon crashing to the ground took his attention elsewhere. Seeing the angelic support battered, bloodied and at risk of being killed by whatever was in those canisters made Geralt’s eyes narrow into catlike slits as his protective instincts flared to life. 

He [i]screamed[/i], jaw distending well beyond what a normal human’s would be capable of, and from nowhere a torrent of lightning crashed into the ground, spreading out in waves and threatening the defenders of Arahabaki if they didn’t make an effort to avoid them. Ishmael took the hit, but had the durability to sustain it, while Nao evaded the electric tide. Parvati had the reaction speed and agility to jump, but Leanne got electrocuted. As Geralt’s jaw clicked back into place, he sprinted back Sandalphon’s way, thunderously loud steps heralding his approach as he leapt to the angel’s aid, roughly hefting her into his arms and running her out of the area of the red canisters. He used his knife to sever the razor wire, then quickly tried to unwrap his ally. “Sorry about that, saw an opportunity to put her down, but it didn’t quite pan out. I can call back the Judicator if you need more time to charge your magic.” He offered, standing to put himself between Sandalphon and the lady defenders.

“Thank you,” his teammate told him. The spot where she’d fallen had been carpet bombed, disappearing beneath a horrific maelstrom of vivid green flame, and everyone could feel its chemical heat. With Parvati’s wires cut through, they were slack enough for Sandalphon to brush off, and to her credit she managed to ignore the lacerations. Relief would be coming soon, after all. No use agonizing about it in the meantime. Seeing that Geralt was fine, she turned her attention outward as she rose -somewhat shakily- to her feet. The Seekers’ enemies were gathering around them, more or less surrounding the two. Parvati rolled the shoulder of her injured arm, a cold look on her face. Leanne couldn’t hide her pain or frustration as well as the archangel, so she reloaded her pistols with an indignant scowl. Nao stood close to Ishmael, who’d gotten the moment she needed to recover. “Let us begin anew.”

Before they could take initiative, Sandalphon unleashed Angelic Wings, surrounding her and Geralt with rotating screens of miraculous water. While they looked like shields, they weren’t, and after a brief moment the skill went off to restore both herself and Geralt completely. It also purged her bleeding and her teammate’s Tremor, then boosted their maximum health by 20%. Seeing this, Nao raised her voice. “Take them down!” The moment the ‘shield’ went down, the quartet attacked. Leanne started shooting, not caring who she hit. Sandalphon ignored her and took aim at Parvati, trying to prevent more Customer Service wire traps. Nao made up for Ishmael’s lack of speed by shooting her forward with a sentry drone, and the tank came in swinging at Geralt with her Tremor-inducing, slime-coated bludgeon. It changed shape as she attacked, growing longer and thicker mid-swing for greater momentum and impact, then shrinking to decrease endlag and startup. Each strike would build aggro, but with Nao in her corner, Ishmael knew the odds were on her side.

Geralt drew his lightning katana in response to Ishmael’s new, transforming weapon. With his steel sword still where he’d left it, he was forced to use the less-familiar weapon, but he would not be deterred by that. Witchers might have preferences, but each was familiar with a wide variety of weapons. He was ready for Ishmael, and as she approached and attacked, Geralt replied in kind, his blade flashing out with cold precision. He couldn’t properly parry the weapon, as its shape would change, but he could trade blows for a moment to give the wrong impression. He concentrated for a moment, summoning a bombing flight of Abyssals to attack both Ishmael and Nao, forcing the healer to either choose or split her concentration, while hopefully providing a distraction against the tanky warrior. 

He wasn’t done, yet, though, as Geralt used this opportunity to shift his katana into one hand, grabbing his knife with the other and trying to use it to break into Ishmael’s guard. He could feel the damage he was taking, so he pressed the offensive. 

New weapons in hand, Ishmael and Geralt clashed with renewed vigor in a sloppy mess of weighty blows and squelching ooze. The suit of remarkably viscous slime just about negated blunt attacks while resisting slashes, so with just one hand on her bludgeon while she raised the other in front of her head as a living shield, Ishmael was a tough nut to crack. The knife pushed through though, and that definitely hurt. And on each impact, the katana’s lightning coursed through the slime, making her wince. When Geralt deployed bombers, she couldn’t initiate enough of an offense to stop him, and suddenly her healer was in danger. “Nao, look out!”

The sight of the Abyssal squadron, like a fleet of demented toy planes, took Nao aback. She breathed in sharply as her heartbeat quickened. With her lips pursed she sent out VIGIL, knowing it wouldn’t achieve much. Her drone destroyed one incoming bogey, but the rest shied away to avoid the ensuing blast. Unable to think of any other option, Nao waited for the planes to descend on her with her heart pounding. “This is the power…” Then she used Lifeline, blinking right next to Ishmael. On arrival the ensuing burst of ghostly energy turned her Elusive and restored half of her teammate’s stagger, while most of the bombers exploded behind her. “Of Clarion!” In terms of positioning and expenditure this was a risky gambit, but Nao had no other choice. She was all in, and the proximity drone she laid down for a burst of healing was confirmation.

Ishmael couldn’t afford to waste this chance. “Enough.” She changed identity again, adopting a high-tech suit of armor and a heavy rod that blazed orange, like the almost crystalline horns that sprouted from her head. “Rrrrgh…” [url=https://i.imgur.com/pi0VWja.png]Ishmael[/url] clapped a hand to a face scrunched up in pain, then charged Geralt with Flaying Surge to bring her Mind Staff down. “Let’s end this.”

Meanwhile, Sandalphon dealt with the other two as best she could. After stopping Parvati, she turned her aim on Leanne. Even as bullets pierced her body, she held firm and aimed true. The next second, a headshot flipped Leanne onto her back. As the bioroid hit the deck, squirming as she held her eye, Sandalphon whipped back toward Parvati, but the assassin was already here. Her gauntlet slammed into the archangel’s stomach and doubled her over, followed by a jumping knee to Sandalphon’s face that broke her nose. As she reeled, Parvati swept her leg and took her down. In a flash wires closed around her arms, head, and neck, and the assassin seized them for a final, deadly pull.

Focused on the kill, she realized what Sandalphon’s extended hand meant a little too late. In an instant Frost Lock flash-froze her, and the archangel coolly planted the barrel of her gunstaff against her would-be killer’s chest. Then she pulled the trigger until the ether bolts punched through her foe’s body and out the other side. After a moment she ceased, firing no more than was absolutely necessary, then tried to extricate herself from the wires. Parvati did not move to stop her–there wasn’t anything left beneath the ice to move. Just a statue of frozen ash.

Another transformation meant Geralt was dealing with yet another fighting style. This time, Ishmael brought out armor with what looked to be a strange energy pack on it, powering her mace-like staff. Dropping his knife, he took the katana in both hands, returning to a fighting style more suited to his skillset. Ishmael’s staff came down like Imlerith’s mace, energy crackling along it as Geralt met it with the flat of his katana, pushing the weapon to the side and trading follow-up blows. Ishmael’s armor insulated her from the katana’s blade and most of its lightning, with Geralt coming out of the exchange worse off as Ishmael crashed the staff into his side, the blunt force transferring through the plate, which inflicted Sinking and gave Ishmael Charge.

As they turned back towards each other, Geralt grunted and lifted his hand, backstepping while casting Aard to push Ishmael, and hopefully Nao given how close she’d gotten, off balance. The sign knocked Ishmael back a bit, but passed through Nao thanks to Elusive–though it still convinced her to back off, as that protection wouldn’t last much longer. He stepped in, katana flashing for Ishmael’s face, the only unarmored part of her body now, and put his weight behind the swing, aiming not for his opponent, but behind her. Through her. This was an all-or-nothing attack, and if it failed, he prayed that whatever mysterious force had been preventing his death was still in place. If this failed, he’d be exposing himself to counter-attack from both Nao and Ishmael.

Normally his opponent would have composed herself to strike back, but the terrible headache that had been afflicting Ishmael since she assumed this identity picked the worst possible moment to flare up. The redhead reeled, stricken by the agony that was the price for this superpowered form, and Geralt’s life-ending slash closed in. Nao saw this, realizing instantly what was going on, and what little she could do to help. “Ishmael!”

Nao threw herself into her teammate, tackling her out of the way. Geralt’s blade hit her back, cutting to the bone. She cried out in pain, and the two went down in a heap. The next moment, her sentry drone deployed to launch them both backward, away from the Witcher. Wincing, Ishmael sat up to find her teammate grievously wounded. “Nao!” she moaned. “Why?”

“Stop using Reindeer,” Nao hissed through clenched teeth, using a proximity drone on them to staunch the bleeding. The two were definitely on the back foot now, and on the other side of the battlefield she could see that Parvati had been killed while she’d been distracted. Nao didn’t have a lot of fight left in her. Ishmael did, though, and she could channel her pain into anger. With one arm around Nao’s shoulder she rose halfway and lashed out at Geralt with Mind Whip to trigger his Sinking in a burst of sanity damage and break his poise.

Behind him, Sandalphon was still trying to get free. The wires from Parvati’s final Risk Elimination bound her tightly, and excessive haste would only cut her more. Her careful approach gave Leanne all the time she needed to get up and stagger over, one hand over her left eye and the other holding a pistol. “That hurts, you know,” she snapped, glancing at Parvati’s remains. “Dearie me. You might look like an angel, but in the end you’re a killer just like us, hm?” She came to a stop, her expression cloyingly saccharine, and took aim at Sandalphon’s head. “I suppose I’ll be taking revenge now. Bye bye~”

The archangel threw a Frost Lock at her. It would take two of them to freeze Leanne this time, but she didn’t know that. She jerked away from the icy cluster, firing prematurely. The bullet grazed Sandalphon’s arm as she twisted, throwing off the wires despite the extra laceration in order to swing a long leg around and sweep Leanne’s out from under her. Now it was a race to see who could get up first.

Geralt was caught off-guard by the save from Nao, though the grievous wound he inflicted in turn made up for it. Whatever had caused Ishmael to falter had turned the fight in his favor, though when the pair rose and healed up, her follow-up blow had plenty of time to land, sending the Witcher reeling this time. He staggered to his feet in time to catch another blow to the chest, which sent him into a roll. As he lifted himself to his knees, he saw Leanne and Sandalphon struggling to their feet as well. 

“F-Fizz…” He muttered, pointing towards Leanne as Ishmael’s staff was raised. “Kill her.” He ordered as it crashed into the back of his skull, sending him crashing violently to the floor. 

Before his light faded, his striker surged forth. The abyssal trickster dashed into and through Leanne with Urchin Strike, and the wounds left by his seastone trident as he stabbed in quick succession bled for several seconds. Leanne stumbled, unable to rise. She shot wildly at Sandalphon as the archangel rose to her full height, but she couldn’t place anywhere near enough rounds to stop her. Sandalphon whacked the bioroid with the head of her gunstaff, laying her out, clamped down on her neck with her heel, and planted her weapon’s barrel on Leanne’s head. “Go in peace.”

She did not pause to scrutinize her handiwork, but immediately cast her newly refilled Angelic Praise. Her own wounds disappeared, and if Geralt had yet to cross through death’s door, he’d be pulled back from the brink. When Sandalphon turned to look, she saw Ishmael in her normal identity, panting in relief, and Nao still on the ground as she sent a proximity mine her teammate’s way. “Damn it,” the healer rasped, shaken by the demise of another ally even if they hadn’t known one another. Her failure didn’t hurt as much as her injury, but it wasn’t far behind.

Getting used to death was…rather morbid an idea. Nonetheless, Geralt was getting used to dying. This was…what, the fourth? Fifth? Time he’s died thus far? Or come close to it, if he wasn’t truly dying here. He rose to his hands and knees, taking a slow breath, before rising and sheathing the lightning katana. He drew Odysseus’s Bow instead, nocking an arrow and loosing it at Nao. He followed up with more as he backed up, trying to trigger the magical bow’s chain lightning as much as possible, either hitting Ishmael or Nao, whoever he could.

After what Ishmael did to Geralt, none of the women -his teammate included- expected him to rise again. But rise he did, and the position Ishmael had taken to defend Nao from Sandalphon did not cover her against the Witcher. Appalled by the sight of him hauling himself upright, Ishmael was just a little too slow to intercept his arrow, and Nao’s stamina hadn't recharged enough to evade. It slid right past her outstretched shield and lodged in Nao’s sternum. In shock, she fell without a sound.

“Nao!” Shifting into her riot gear, she dashed to position herself in front of her teammate. She glanced at Sandalphon, who seemed to be standing by in support mode rather than attacking, then back at Geralt with her face tight. “Don't die on me,” she hissed, standing firm to return fire with Quake Rounds as the lightning arrows pounded both body armor and shield. The moment she realized that the chain lightning between her and Nao was only hurting the healer further, Ishmael did the only thing she could. With uncommon urgency, she charged while shooting to try and knock Geralt down.

Seeing Ishmael charge, Geralt quickly stowed the bow and drew Quen, a few of her shots making it through beforehand, while the rest crashed against the magical barrier. As she got close, he drew the lightning katana again, ready to meet her in melee now that he was refreshed, and Nao was wounded and unlikely to be able to assist. He swung to stop her charge, and stood his ground defiantly.

The katana might not have much brute force by itself, but with Geralt’s size and strength behind it, the blade’s impact with Ishmael’s riot shield was enough to crack the polycarbonate and stop her cold. Shaken by the blow, the redhead fought to defend herself with only her damaged shield standing between her and death. As she weathered the onslaught that followed, she dared to look over her shoulder to check on Nao. To her horror she saw Sandalphon approaching the fallen healer to finish her off, expressionless but moving with purpose. Ishmael narrowed her eyes and turned halfway around, leveling her pistol at the archangel as she paused over Nao’s body. The gun clicked empty, and for a brief moment her eyes widened in dismay. Then a mighty blow from Geralt struck her across the back, shearing through her hair and into her suit as it bowled her over sideways.

Ishmael tumbled, her useless gun sliding across the ground. She fell in a heap, crushed by both the Witcher’s strike and the weight of her failure. Spitting, she planted her shield and used it to pick herself up. “Well. If there’s nobody left to protect, my mission is simple.” She began to change, but not in the same way that she changed identity. Reality itself seemed to waver within a spherical area around her, not overlaying the one the Seekers knew, but pushing into it. For a brief moment the woman disappeared, encapsulated by a [url=https://i.imgur.com/C5GD6rm.png]vision[/url] of a bright pink shoe on a satin bed. Then the vision melted away to reveal [url=https://i.imgur.com/JL90iAi.png]Ishmael[/url], not just wearing the shoes but wrapped in pink ribbons, even her shield and the enormous metal anchor that trailed behind her like a flail. Her eyes looked cloudy, a rosy pink, and her stoic demeanor had been replaced by a crazed smile. “Let’s finish this…” she croaked drunkenly. “Before it swallows me whole.”

After confirming that she didn’t seem to be in immediate danger, Sandalphon looked back down at Nao, then knelt over her. Leaning on her staff with one hand, she placed the other on her chest. “This world needs fewer killers,” she said as she created a Friend Heart. “And more healers.” She placed it on the woman’s heart, and in an instant her agony had ceased. As she lay there, physically restored but mentally overwhelmed, Sandalphon turned her gaze back to Geralt and Ishmael. Then she stood, ready to assist.

Geralt watched the strange vision appear, brow furrowed. “Huh.” As the woman he was fighting was revealed in a strange new form, he frowned. That…was not right. Especially not on a battlefield like this. Watching Sandalphon spare Nao out of the corner of his eye, the Witcher sighed. He kept his katana at the ready, but took a half-step back, looking Ishmael up and down. “You wouldn’t happen to know, Roland, would you?” He asked simply. “Remind me of him a bit.” 

Ishmael’s reaction was to swing the anchor at him, forcing Geralt to take a step back, raising his katana to deflect the blow. As he did, however, the ribbons attached to her reached out seemingly of their own accord, grabbing his arm. He was able to yank free, but the distraction cost him a moment, which Ishmael used to bring her anchor around and swing again. Grunting, Geralt took the hit, Quen shattering violently as he was staggered by the heavy blow. Sandalphon fired a shot that slammed into the drunken woman’s back, but she kept coming. 

Geralt brought his sword up and along Ishmael’s side, while Sandalphon continued her sniping. Ishmael’s ribbons lashed out at Geralt as she lifted the anchor, grinning wickedly and swinging it overhead like an executioner’s axe. He was able to bring his own sword up in time to deflect the blow, but the impact sent aches through his arms, even with his strength. Between the weight of the anchor and Ishmael’s own enhanced abilities in this form, she was proving to be a dangerous opponent. Geralt wrestled his arm free and cast Igni, sending a concentrated stream of flames into Ishmael to try and burn the ribbons off her. 

Burn they did, but an instant later they were back, and Ishmael prepared to swing her anchor at Geralt once more. A frost lock exploded against her back as she wound up, freezing Ishmael in place. Geralt took a powerful swing at her head while she was vulnerable, but the ribbons wrapped around her seemed to shift despite the freezing, thickening to shield her from what could have been a lethal blow. Geralt grunted in frustration, swinging again while Sandalphon took a shot at Ishmael’s back. 

The freeze didn’t last very long, and soon Ishmael was back to swinging her anchor around. Each hit sapped Geralt’s strength a little, and her ribbons kept grabbing at him, slowing him down and making each follow up attack easier for Ishmael to land. The shots Sandalphon was taking were doing their own work, but Geralt found himself flagging again. He raised his hand to cast Quen, and as soon as he did, more ribbons snared out to grab him. 

Seeing her ally visibly slowing caused Sandalphon some concern, even if she was not one to show it. Her Angelic Praise was not quite charged yet, so she took careful aim and waited for an opportunity to hit Ishmael’s head. When it came, she took her shot, the ether bolt slamming into the side of Ishmael’s skull and staggering her for a moment, which Geralt took to free himself from the ensnaring ribbons and quickly get away from the drunken woman attacking him. Now that he was able to get a better look at Ishmael, she seemed to be even [url=https://i.imgur.com/LIyimwY.png]more heavily covered[/url] in those ribbons. 

Ishmael did not take kindly to his retreat, and rushed forward to prevent his escape. “Not…getting away from me.” She slurred, swinging her anchor at him aggressively. Without the ribbons on him, Geralt was able to deflect the blow somewhat, taking weaker slashes at her with his lightning katana.

Another Frost Lock hit Ishmael, fresh off its cooldown, but this one didn’t freeze her. It would take more this time, so until Sandalphon could apply more frost, Geralt was on his own. But no, that was acceptable. With how Ishmael’s frenzied strikes weakened their target and built up momentum, every second that passed meant that the scales tipped farther in her favor. Those ribbons were the main issue. Acting like they had a life of their own, they moved when Ishmael herself did not, both protecting her and impeding Geralt for her. When he attacked less, they bound him more. Could they do both at once?

After Ishmael’s next anchor smash, Sandalphon blinked to Geralt’s side. She reached out and grabbed the pink ribbons, provoking them into a reactionary move. They lunged like snakes and began to constrict her. Just as she planned. These anomalous ribbons might be dangerous, but like their host they lacked critical thinking. In taking the easy prey, they’d left Ishmael exposed for the real hunter to go in for the kill.

Geralt nodded at Sandalphon, exhaustion evident in the languid movement of his head, but upon seeing his opening, he pushed himself and took the opportunity for what it was. If he couldn’t finish Ishmael here, their proverbial goose was cooked. His katana flashed, splitting air and flesh alike, and a spurt of blood from Ishmael’s face marked the beginning of the end, as a pained grunt escaped the drunken sailor. Blood flowed freely from a cut over her eye, the blade not having carved through the socket but ruining her eyelid, and with her vision blocked and her ribbons grabbing Sandalphon, Ishmael whirled on Geralt to keep him in sight, further forcing the ribbons from her to bind the angelic healer. 

As his opponent hefted and swung her weapon, the Witcher threw himself back into her blind side, cutting a deep gouge into her gut, forcing Ishmael to her knees. The ribbons were split between entangling the threat Geralt posed and keeping their other target from escaping, and that combined with the damage he’d already done made Geralt’s final strike simple enough. He kicked the inside of Ishmael’s elbow, preventing her from leaning on her anchor, and brought his katana up and through her torso, finally putting an end to the deranged defender. 

All at once, Geralt’s burst of energy left him, and he stood there, panting heavily as he turned back to Nao while Ishmael dissolved into dust. Would she take revenge for her fallen allies? Or would she repay Sandalphon’s mercy with the same? The bruised, battered form of the Witcher, who had already died once before the healer, was almost a perfect test, the perfect crossroads for how Nao chose to continue onward. 

By this point Nao had come to her senses somewhat, but it was clear -even without Sandalphon standing over her- that she wouldn’t be doing any more fighting. She was bewildered, disoriented, and afraid; one might wonder if she was even a fighter. When the woman saw the corrupted Ishmael wounded and on the brink, Nao only averted her gaze, squeezing her eyes shut. At least it was over soon, and the staunch defender went down without much outcry.

Once free of the pink ribbons, Sandalphon strode over toward her fellow healer. “I am sorry for what happened,” she said gently. “For both your allies, and the whiplash of awakening.”

Nao was reflexively trying to smooth out her hair, her suit, everything she could to try and bring herself some peace. During the fight she’d been remarkably composed, but setting foot on death’s door had broken her facade. “I-it’s fine…” She made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a gasp. “I-I mean, it’s not fine. Nothing about this is fine. But I…they weren’t my friends at least.”

She tightened her tie, then her gloves. “Well, Ishmael…we weren’t close, but I knew her. She knew the risks. The others…they scared me, a little, but Ishmael was almost normal. They just grabbed whatever healers they could, combat-ready or not. I’m just an office worker. And now…” She shook her head. “I don’t even know why I’m here. This isn’t Clarion. Or Ahten City.” She looked at her allies ashes’ sadly. “How many people are dying for reasons they don’t understand?”

“Too many,” Sandalphon replied. “That’s why you need to live. Please, leave the Shinra Building immediately. The Machines are about to invade. Get as many people as you can to a safe place.”

“Okay.” Having a plan seemed to give Nao strength. She stood, helped to her feet thanks to nudges from her VIGIL drone. “What about you?” Nao seemed uncertain if she should even ask.

“We’re here to deal with the root of the problem,” Sandalphon told her. When she offered no more explanation, Nao nodded and hurried on her way.

That left the two Seekers alone with the fallout from the battle. The archangel used her gunstaff’s innate function to create a small healing ring that, while weak, was enough to patch her and Geralt up over time without having to spend a skill. “That altercation aptly illustrates the merits of a four-person team, that being my preference, over a duo,” she mentioned matter-of-factly. “We were able to prevail, but despite our disadvantage, I do regret my inability to properly play my role. This also brought my lack of fighting ability into stark relief” She looked over at the remains of her enemies. “I believe both of us could benefit from these spirits. I do not wish to take more than my fair share, but the two in white could shore up my weaknesses.”

Geralt nodded, having watched the pair converse as he caught his breath. “Take ‘em. I’m reluctant to do anything but crush that last one, anyway. Already been fused with one…probably female Spirit, any more and things might get awkward with Yen. My wife.” Geralt added the last bit for context, then frowned. “Been a few days since I sent a message back to Alcamoth, but once we get the Guardian dealt with, we should be able to figure a way back at least.” He reached into one of his many pouches, pulling out some salted pork rations he’d been holding onto, and looked to Sandalphon. “Not exactly quality fare, but I have a bit more if you need something quick to snack on.”

“Thank you, but the honey I had earlier is sufficient.” Sandalphon gave him an appreciative nod in turn, and went to collect the spirits of Parvati and Leanne. She also took Ishmael’s and gave it to Geralt, though her gaze lingered on it a moment. “Her equipment was nothing special compared to her abilities and unflappable demeanor. Crushing seems almost a waste, but what’s yours is yours.” Once she offloaded the Witcher’s reward, she unceremoniously inserted the other two into her heart.

[center][hider=For Sandalphon]Notable spirits consumed:
[b][url=https://i.imgur.com/WbNmb5Z.png]Parvati[/url][/b] and [b][url=https://i.imgur.com/hQ7MP4z.png]Leanne[/url][/b]
The host has shrunk down to an average height of 6’2”. Her skin is very slightly darker, as if lightly tanned. Her hair is a little longer, shoulder length, tied into a short braid in the back, and though predominantly light gray has an auburn gradient toward the tips. The symbols in her eyes are much thicker, as if bolded, and are more of a sea green with a splash of pale red. Her office clothes fit much better; her white shirt has sleeves that are a little rolled up, about one-third of her midriff showing, and slacks that are more like capris, dark gray in color but still rather tight. Her shoes resemble high-heeled black boots with both buckles and laces. Her outfit is just silly with black belts everywhere: around her waist, the bottom of her shirt, her thighs, her biceps, atop her chest, and even as suspenders. She is now capable of expressing emotion and is quicker to act, although she’s still quite calm and collected. Parvati’s spirit confers the Power [b]Process Optimization[/b], which allows her to draw out silvery razor wires. Doing damage with them increases her skill recharge speed by 30%. Leanne’s spirit confers the Power [b]External Information Network[/b], which allows the host to scan enemies within a certain area to get their vitals. If she scans new enemies in this manner, her allies gain a small buff to evasion, elemental resist, and damage reduction. Parvati’s spirit also confers the Weakness [b]Fire Weakness[/b], reducing the host’s fire and burn resistance by 30%. Leanne’s spirit also confers the Weakness [b]Human After All[/b], which reduces the host’s ability to push herself to her bodily limits and work herself like a machine, making her much more easily physically and mentally overwhelmed[/hider][/center]


Geralt frowned at the Spirit in his hands, thinking things over even as his ally transformed beside him. Sandalphon was right that she had some rather amazing abilities, though what Goldlewis had said the day prior was also bouncing around his head. “Unflappable demeanor, huh…” He muttered, thinking through things. If ever there was an opportunity to see if he could calm the raging tempest that was the Orphan of Kos, this was it. Despite the last transformation she took on being a bit unhinged, Ishmael had proven to be quite the cool character during their battle, impassively chastising Geralt’s whirlwind style as she relentlessly hunted him down. Loathe as part of him was to risk transforming into a woman, let alone losing even more of the impressive size the Harbor Water Demon’s spirit had given him, he was a risk to his allies as it was, and himself. The question remained- did he fuse with her as he had the others, or risk a mental fusion? Taking a deep breath, he decided, and slowly pressed the Spirit of Ishmael into his chest, ready to accept the consequences, whatever they might be.

[center][hider=For Geralt]Notable spirit consumed:
[b][url=https://i.imgur.com/VOtZByX.png]Ishmael[/url][/b]
The host has become female, and shrunk to 6’8”. The ghoulish quality imparted by the Orphan of Kos is almost gone, now just making her look a little unhinged and bony. Her hair is incredibly long and voluminous, all the way to her ankles, with a bright white into rich orange gradient. She has a hairband with a little ribbon on either side. Thanks to the Harbor Water Demon, her chest is an impressive size, and her hands -and claws- are still larger than normal, though also somewhat diminished from before. Her outfit is now a predominantly black and white mix of formal wear and armor, accented by red. This includes a jacket with pauldrons and cuffs, pants, chain mail vest over white undershirt, and a windowed cuirass that also includes a red tie, with practically no skin showing. The host’s personality is more calm and in control, much less inclined to fly off the handle into a rage, but also more critical of allies. This spirit confers the Power [b]Identity[/b], which allows the host to switch out her current set of weaponry, equipment, and proficiencies to a different loadout, with additional identities available via level investment. Spirits applied to an identity will only affect that identity. This comes with the identity LCCB Assistant Manager, which comes with a set of riot armor that resists blunt and explosive damage, a tall ballistic shield, a pistol that shoots tremor-inducing Quake Rounds, and associated skills. This spirit also confers the Weakness [b]Fatal Slash[/b], making the host take more damage from unmitigated slash-type attacks[/hider][/center]


Geralt sighed, looking herself over to see what had changed with [i]this[/i] fusion. The good news is that she felt some immediate relief from the ever-present pressure in her mind, the undying rage of an orphaned god, but the bad news was that she [i]was a woman.[/i] A woman with rather voluptuous breasts, now that he got a second look. Her armor was messed up yet again, though in this case it was a more familiar set of cuirass and chain, not terribly dissimilar from the gambeson and chain she’d had when appearing in the Land of Adventure. At least her chest wasn’t showing through the window in her armor, though she’d still have to get that fixed, [i]again[/i]. 

Stomach rumbling, she remembered what she’d been doing before Sandalphon, who was now much shorter and somewhat more conservatively dressed, had handed her Ishmael’s Spirit. With the same voracious appetite she’d had in the diner where they’d met Zenkichi, Geralt tore into the salted rations she had, her stomach settling somewhat after all of the beatings she’d taken. Taking a deep breath, she decided to test out the ability she’d seen Ishmael using, and transformed into LCCB Assistant Manager form, her armor, swords and bows transforming into a riot shield, pistol, and riot gear. “Interesting.” She stated simply, before transforming back. “I’ll have to take care to use that efficiently.” 

After a moment, Sandalphon gingerly lifted a hand to her face. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, much to her own surprise. “...Strange.” Eyebrows scrunched together, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, one and then the other. The flow quickly began to slow down, but for now the tears kept coming. They dripped down from her jaw and onto her shirt, prompting the archangel to dab at them with her sleeve.

Geralt frowned at that, though she knew spirit fusion often entailed changes in personality, it was strange to see the normally-impassive seeming angel openly weep. “Everything alright? Fusing with two at once might have been a bit ambitious…”

Wiping away the last few tears, Sandalphon nodded, her breath wavering just a little. Her pupils had become stress marks. “I think so. For some reason…I was thinking of the others. Raphael, Gabriel, Raziel…their sigilbound humans as well, all of them. Especially Regina, my own partner. And…Metatron most of all. My sister, dearly departed. I think of them often, but…” She shook her head, her eyes closed. “I find myself missing them. Quite a lot.”

She inhaled deeply through her nose, then cleared her throat. When she opened her eyes, her pupils were back to normal, and she then looked around. “Quite the shift in perspective. As impressive as my stature was, I do not regret becoming shorter. This world was not made with giants in mind. Coffee and honey will be more effective, for one. And I can actually use this.” Sandalphon unslung the sniper rifle she’d gained last night, and when she handled it she found herself much more appropriately sized for its use. If Geralt looked closely, she could see her smile. Once she put the Eye of Sol away, Sandalphon looked up at Geralt, her expression ever-so-slightly curious. “Quite the change, yourself.”

“Looking for my daughter, myself. Had just found her, just stopped the people hunting her when Galeem did…all this. Massive pain in my ass..” Geralt sighed. Looking back at Sandalphon, she chuckled a little. “Yes. To be honest, I enjoyed being larger somewhat, though those complaints about the world not being made with larger folk in mind are too true.” She admitted, looking over her gear. “I’ll miss the intimidation factor, though. And the sheer weight behind my swings.” Still, at least she would fit a little better in doors now. “And if you would believe it, this isn’t the first time fusing with a Spirit put a hole in my armor for the world to see my chest better. This time it has a shirt, at least…”

Sandalphon listened, unblinking, as Geralt mentioned her own loved one and then provided her perspective. It sounded like they could both sympathize with one another. More than that, though, her anecdote about her armor piqued the archangel’s interest. “The logic that governs fusion is fascinating. I cannot fathom it myself. Given the sheer potential it offers, I would be very interested in studying its workings.” From the outside this exchange might seem like a waste of time, given what was going on in Arahabaki, but both of them definitely needed this breather to keep operating at peak efficiency. Still, they’d probably waited long enough. “That is a matter for another time, however. Since I have not been called for help so far, I assume the others are well. Let us then proceed to our objective.” Identifying the bridge from this module that would take the two closer to Arahabaki’s central pillar, she took a couple steps before slowing and turning around. “Oh, I should say. Good job back there, Geralt. I look forward to working with you further.”

Geralt nodded in agreement with Sandalphon’s views on fusion, though she’d personally seen much of its downsides as well. “I can’t wait to show you the Breaching Bastion.” She mentioned, turning to the bridge to the center. “Thank you. Feel like I got given the runaround for a while, but we made it to the other side of that fight in one piece. And that’s the most important thing. That healing you can give is quite a boon, I’ll say.” Taking a deep breath, she continued onward towards the central pillar. [/hider]