Hexxin an' a Texxin, Dangerrutito Fontainuxic's Goggs were flooding his brain and unconscious and semiconscious and Id and Ego and Super Ego and (given his suit's unique method of interface) very possibly his butthole with multitudinous information.  Like so much information.  Probably too much really, but that was the benefit of having both all the magic and all the tech.  

This could be, and indeed was, all contemplated collaborated and corroborated in an instant.  Absolute minimal bureaucracy in his brain. 
Future Magic Russian type shit.  Super helpful.  Only way to get access to this level of magic and tech and also the process by which neoborhilliumium can be manticulated not once, not twice, but indeed thrice into the form of a Q-Bramble Blade, cheekily referred to by those in the know as a Q-BramBlade.  It was a deep cut.  One lost on you if you weren't in the know about Russian Magic Future type shit.  Your loss.  It's an oldie but a goodie.  A Magic Future Oldie but a goodie.

Only way to have access to a fucken Zord too.  Some real Saban type shit, but not like the Saban type shit from when they hit it big and had to just keep making shows and gradually watered their shit down and got all redundant and lame and shit.  Like the early Saban type shit when they were just dubbing over some crazy ass weird ass foreign show and replacing all the weird talk with American type shit.  That type Saban shit.  Speaking of.

Quantemporaneously, and with much alacrity too, Dangerrutitio references his VocoRecordoerings and the data compiled by his Hexx-Texx Goggos.  Now, granted, for some weebs Naruto running around with bandages on their feet and hands and little headbands and shit, pretending to be a Street Shark or some shit, this might take ages.  If they could even read Future Russian Magic type guy man script.  Which was doubtful.  Putting it all together, figuring out where it intersects and what that means.  But with the help of both magic and technology and bluntness Dangerrutito is able to permeate the membrane of it all and determine the most bestest position for a Z.O.R.D., that is a Zord Orbital Rapid Deployment, and drop it precisely where he wanted it.

Extrapolating, or maybe interpolating, some word like that.  Maybe both them words.  Extrainterpolating.  Some word meaning like inside thinking and combining of factors into one clear simple answer.  Whichever word that means basically that, but also has the most letters and syllables and preferably the most complicated pronunciation.  That was what the Hexx-Texx Goggs were doing.  VocoRecordoer was helping out too.  Picking up even the slightest of sound waves.  Words sure, but also often just the slight reverberations of foot-steps, rustling leaves, cracking ice.  Between the two a great many things that a simple mortal might miss were picked up and catalogued and their ramifications considered.  Handy shit.  Like some sort of fusion between magic and technology, which is what Dangerrutito was.  So that was fitting.

Where to drop the Zord and what to do.  A simple question but one with voluminous possible answers and untold potential ramifications.  It may turn the tide of the battle.  It may accidentally land on Dangerrutito and bring him to a rather ignoble end.  If he were doing it on pen and paper he might forget to carry the zero or get confused about precisely how Long Division worked or he might confuse Calculus and Trigonometry and end up manifesting Dangerrutito Fontainiuxic Mooora Beeeegaruuuuuu inside this lame ass planet, likely resulting in one manner of horrific disaster or another.  Maybe even a dreaded Muonnic Conclipse.  There was so much to consider.

Dangerrutito's partners for one.  That is those dudes over there and there and there and also over there.  They were the ones he was not supposed to kill.  At least not until after these other randos were giblets.  His orders hadn't said anything about not killing his partners after these pests were paste.  Or maybe they had.  He hadn't read them.

The opponents and their locations was another thing.  Some of them were tricksy little buggers.  Or at least tried to be.  Their methods may well be effective on this world, with this level of magic and apparent pronounced derth of technology.  Somewhat akin to the card sharks of Kyivistanoslov's slums.  Playing three card monty or that Find The Ball in the Cup game.  Parlor tricks.  Slight of hand.  Spiritually sourced though they may well be they were mere contrivances.  Attempts to mask one's presence were admirable but Dangerrutito wasn't relying on his 20/20 vision to detect them.  

That was where the aforementioned Hexx-Texx Goggolos came in.  They were able to scan through a variety of different viewmodals searching out disturbances and fluctuations.  One might have a normal reading and thus be detected, or no reading and thus be detected, or an altered reading and thus be detected, but there was little hope of just remaining perfectly unseen.  Granted one might perhaps maybe figure out a way to evade detection of one mode or another.  Specialization was a miraculous thing, but with the Goggles flicking from one mode to another continuously it was likely a losing battle.  Particularly for a world so wrapped up in Chi or Qi or Ki.  Same shit.

Upon tagging any target or object/entity of interest the systems would track that target and, with that target now solidified conceptually, take a particular interest in obtaining that target in another targeting system.  Thusly using each data set to build upon one another and, potentially, not just identify a target in a targeting system they had previously been able to elude or confuse, but in doing so improve the capacity of that system.  It was pretty fucking neat all in all.

It allowed Dangerrutito to take note of a random bandaged figure running out, seemingly thinking it was completely hidden despite quite simply not being hidden.  It was quick, Dangerrutito Fontainiuxic would give it that, but running across open ground to the lake was not a particularly stealthy move.  Not hard to ping that.  Didn't even need some umpteen vision modes to latch on to some guy Naruto running through an open field, and once the target was identified, well, it wasn't likely to be lost.  Less likely with each passing second.  Even when Naruto Runner sent out a few illusory clones, like a small child scattering coins in the hopes that the coins would confuse their parents and save them from a time out, the targeting remained.  Sure, there were additional potential targets now, but that wasn't going to undo the acquisition of the original targeting.  Naruto Runner wasn't obfuscating any thing any more than the smattering of local flora and fauna were.  The attacks he once thought decisively deadly would flail harmlessly as the surprise aspect of his surprise attack was but an illusion, his delusion.

They, the Hexx-Texx Goggs that is, also allowed Dangerrutito to spy something he enjoyed looking at much more than Naruto Runner over there.  Dangerrutito had made out a strange silhouette.  A most seductive silhouette, which was a strange thing for a silhouette to be but fuck it a man likes what a man likes.  A woman's silhouette.  Let's get that out of the way right now.  It had like...womanly aspects.  For a shadow.  Or a silhouette.  Like boobs.  And long hair.  And the proper like hip to waist ratio and smaller shoulders.  All that type stuff.  That was all pretty cool stuff.  Dangerrutito liked that kind of stuff.  He liked it a lot.  A lot more than dude shadow or silhouette type stuff.  Not that there was anything wrong with that.

A silhouette, black edged with blue yet somehow a fire in the eyes.  Now that didn't come up on the sensors.  Not even the Muonn gauge.  Dangerrutito could just tell that was there because of like things.  Metaphorical type things.  The way that they are.  Shit like that.  Anyway back to the silhouette, quite a karada on that one.  Probably.  Again, the figure was black edged with a blue silhouette so it was hard to tell but dollars to donuts probably a hard karada.  Probably.  This one didn't Naruto run, for which Dangerrutito was eternally grateful because that was just silly.  This one danced.  Dangerrutito did not know the dances but he knew he liked them.  She brought her own dancing partners too, like the Naruto Runner dude, though these too were not particularly hard to discern between.  As she danced his Goggos had plenty of time to scan her in several viewmodals and iterate again and again until the image developed, creating a rather profound separation between the actual figure and her backup dancers.

These would be the focus of his attacks.  At least for now, and they would receive the attention they were due.

[b][i]The Naruto Runner[/i][/b], Inabikari Muigetsu Totsuka, also known as Komaeda “Azashiro” Seishi, also also known as Keiji Maeda.  Dangerrutito didn't know the Naruto Runner's name or that he had been named after a samurai from the long distant past and a corny ass anime character from the less long but still pretty long distant past, but he'd probably get a giggle out of it if he had.

[b][i]The Dancing Silhouette[/i][/b], Akane Ryuusei, also known as Hard Karada (at least to Dangerrutito).  Dangerrutito didn't know that was her name either.  He'd have to ask later.  Also for her number.  And if she liked dogs or not.  God he hoped she did.

And maybe that other guy too.  Maybe he should focus on that dude because like what the fuck was up with him?

[b][i]Some Shiny Dude[/i][/b], Yuske Tenyu “X-Star of Vehemente,”  Dangerrutito didn't know that was his name either.  Or what a X-Star was.

[i]Some Shiny Dude[/i] had been hard to see.  A distance off and in an elevated position, showing up much like [i]The Dancing Silhouette[/i], aka Hard Karada, initially Dangerrutito had scarcely been able to see him.  Had only picked him up as his Goggles started detecting another presence and trying to zero in on it, but now his Goggos had gotten a bead on him and focused in, running through viewmodals, until he could appreciate the shiny crimson metally armor type shit the dude was wearing.  Pretty legit.  He'd just been standing there for like the longest time.  Surveying shit like some kind of surveyor.  Dude liked to watch.  That was alright.  Time to put on a show.

That was exactly what he did.  Put on a show.  But then also drop a Z.O.R.D. precisely where he wanted it.  Just along the edge of the lake so the resultant wave would wash right over where [i]The Naruto Runner[/i] was trying his best to be a sneaky snake.

Just as it had been for his arrival, the vantablack membrane of spacetime was penetrated, this time at high speed.  Spacetime was gonna be sore in the morning.  It was gonna be vantablack and blue.  Dangerrutito Fontainiuxic Mooora Beeeegaruuuuuu had been launched by the Fontainiuxiciccix 4 at ludicrous speed and point blank into a really quite small spacetime rip, allowing it to maintain much of it's momentum and just really tearing the shit out of that poor spacetime continuum.  It might have to take a break.  It probably couldn't continuum.

Double entendres and dumbshittery aside, the violation of spacetime and massive amount of energy pumping into the world immediately began to wreak havoc on the biome.  Small happy little birds singing small happy little bird songs and carrying twigs and their young and candies and cards and shit for their spouses died by the hundreds.  Incinerated or bisected or just exploded by the sudden change in air pressure.  Hundreds more immediately dropping dead from the sheer quantity of plasmatic radioactive waste that Dangerrutito Fontainiuxic Mooora Beeeegaruuuuuu was venting from his rearward waste vent, located on his ass.  Never knowing what cruel fate awaited them, or that they would never see their little bird wives and babies and friends and shit again.  Never getting an opportunity to tell them they loved them and cherished their memories together and nice type shit like that.  Certainly any who survived were traumatized for life.  Probably scarred too.  PETA, if it existed on this planet, was gonna be pissed.  Ozone Layer would probably never recover.  This little temple area was basically Australia now but without the hot blondes with cool accents.

At the speed it was travelling Dangerrutito hardly had time to turn toward [i]The Dancing Silhouette[/i] before Dangerrutito Fontainiuxic Mooora Beeeegaruuuuuu blasted into the surface just on the edge of the lake.  Luckily he did, have time that is.  Otherwise he wouldn't have been able to enjoy one of those cool guy moments.  He bet he looked just cool as shit.

A giant ZORD, Dangerrutito Fontainiuxic Mooora Beeeegaruuuuuu, landing cacophonously, instantaneously sublimating a large quantity of the lakes water, melting the rest, splashing a large quantity of the melted water out, and creating a huge wave originating opposite the temple and heading toward it.  Toward [i]The Naruto Runner[/i] and the temple beyond him.  That was to say nothing of what it did to the Earth there.  Sublimating a good chunk of that too.  Taking solid earth and advancing it straight past smaller solids or liquids and straight into gas.  Not even a thick gas.  Not a fog or even really a mist.  It was as though it had just never been there.

Think of all the little squirrels and raccoons and shit.  Or the whatever alien type fauna that lived on this weird ass world.  The cute ones.  All suddenly rendered homeless.  And probably dead.  Yeah mostly dead.  If you can sublimate earthen rock you can sublimate a cute little family of four squirrels sitting around their little squirrel dinner table discussing the latest goings on in squirrel culture.  But now they were all dead.  And what's more, since Dangerrutito Fontainiuxic Mooora Beeeegaruuuuuu was still venting radioactive plasmatic waste out his ass mounted waste distributor vent so they probably wouldn't be able to return any time soon.  Just annihilating the ecosystem like it wasn't anything that mattered.  Because well it kinda didn't. It was a fucking travesty.  A tragedy.  A war crime.  Abhorrent.  The act had been done and now, like a silent fart in a small room, though the rest of the planet may not immediately notice it in time its spread was inevitable and undeniable.  Resistance is futile.  War, War Never Changes.  Nanu nanu.  Etc.  It was fucked up.  But man did it ever look cool.  All behind him too, like he was too cool to watch it.  Fuck that looks cool.

"Fuck that probably looks cool," Dangerrutitio Fontainuxic thought as he unholstered his blaster, blew the gunsmoke (which wasn't there since he hadn't fired yet and also because blasters shot blast bolts and therefore did not produce gunsmoke) from it's barrel, and began a dance of his own.  There wasn't much to it.  It wasn't really a dance.  He just kinda shrugged his shoulders a little, did a hip thrust and charged up a blast.

[i]The Naruto Runner[/i] would have to contend with the massive wave heading his way, if he hadn't been killed by the initial impact.  Or boiled by the immediate change in temperature.  Or drowned.  Or just had a heart attack when he realized he wasn't hidden.  Anyway he had teammates.  Like the one guy, or that other guy, or the guy with the thing, or uh.  That one other guy that was also there.  Dangerrutito's blaster blast was charging up for [i]The Dancing Silhouette[/i].

Surely that big bada boom had gotten her attention, but if it hadn't this would.  Probably maybe.  The blaster was one of his Rangery type tech deal things.  It didn't have a long name and history, and none of his illegitimate children's eternal souls were trapped inside of it, or at least not that he knew of, but it was pretty nifty just the same.  A Chekhov Model 7 Master Blaster.  A real work of art.

[center]The dance stopped![/center]

[i]The Dancing Silhouette[/i], Akane Ryuusei, aka Hard Karada, aka The Future Mrs. Fontainuixic, and her backup dancers sped off to the side toward where that one duder with the guns and the bitchin' ass car was.  Not just that.  She was fast.  She was really fast.  He could track her, but only barely, the indicator for her position moving across his viewscreen fast enough that he had to turn his head and pivot to keep her lined up, couldn't even keep her in his sights.  He was no marksman.

Bouncing from tree to tree, Dangerrutito knew just well enough to not try and shoot her on one side of the other, to not try to outshoot his read out but to control his breathing, steady his hand, and focus on the center point, the middle point her tracking indicator kept jumping across.  If he had more time he might be able to charge the blast more.  To scour her out straight away.  Score one for the good guys.  Or at least his team.  For now.  But her hand had begun to crackle with energy and he didn't need to check his read out to know that that was no good.

Focusing in, breathing slow, and pulling the trigger methodically he sent blaster bolts down range to that center point as her indicator bobbed across that point over and over.  It wouldn't be enough to fry her.  He'd been trying to charge up a big ass blast but she had thrown him off with that little mad dash she'd done.  She would survive an uncharged blast bolt, all but certainly.  This first blast would be charged up a little but not enough to kill.  Probably.  He hoped she didn't get hit with the first one anyway.  That wouldn't be a good icebreaker.  He'd have to make it up to her later either way.  Dangerrutito Fontainiuxic wondered what kind of chocolate a Dancing Silhouette would like.  Probably caramel.  Maybe carmel.