"Oh hello! Another monk type medabot! Well... I guess your a bit big for a medabot, but thats fine! Hope things are going well!" Blazermate said as her and Ramattra made their way to the spooky mansion up on the hill. It wasn't too difficult to enter the place, it was unlocked and from the looks of it, abandoned. Well, that abandoned part soon was shown to be a lie as when the two robots entered and made their way to the center of the room, robot zombies came up from the ground all around the room, lurching towards the pair. "Oh wow! Robot zombies without a medabot controlling them! Weird!" The way she sounded, it was like this wasn't the first, nor the second time she had seen something like this.

Still, they were looking to fight, and well, guess they had to fight! They were zombies after all. She got into her normal healing position and put her healing beam on her new buddy to start generating her healing charge and everything, then throwing out a Divine Star to damage and heal. She'd be flying around healing Pam and throwing out the occasional Divine Star, refusing to get into melee range unless one of the zombies was distracted. With the room being much smaller than the last battlefield she was on, she could also find and touch a few purgatory cracks, summoning exploding ghosts to chase down the occasional zombie.

Sectonia meanwhile, having finished listening to the wanderer's stories, gave him a bit of gold for his stories and wished him beauty and goodbye, before going to look for more information. She took a peek into Grillbys to see that Geralt was there gathering information, and she knew that others were in the shop which, all things considered, she wanted to visit at some point before they left. So instead she figured she'd look at some of the houses around. Considering how friendly things seemed here, perhaps one would be responsive to royalty asking questions?

Although Sectonia wasn't entirely sure what she was in for, and almost regretted it immediately as she knocked on a door and a particularly energetic skeleton answered the door. This would be the... third undead looking monster in this town she saw today and that was a bit of a shock but she shook it off quickly, saying. "Hello, I'm new to town and..." and just saying that, Payprus immediately jumped at that. "Oh! New monsters! Let me give you a tour!" And started to almost pull Sectonia with him as he went around Snowdin giving her a tour all too happy to do so. Although he seemed... not all there. His intense personality though did throw her for a loop for a little bit not expecting this level of... anything really.

From Grillby's to Morshu to pointing out the mansion on the hill, he went around pointing out anything and everything with... his own commentary about a few of the places like Grillbys saying something about a 'brother' of his. Seemingly having endless energy, he never took a break showing off the town, and noticing this Sectonia spoke up, stopping him in his place. "Thats all well and good, but do you know anything about the outside areas of Snowdin? I'm looking for someone."

"Outside?" The gregarious skeleton rubbed his jawbone with his glove, one eyebrow raised above its socket despite his lack of either skin or musculature. "Hmm...just what I hear from travelers, I guess! There's a monastery, a valley full of red water and trees, a magic city in the ocean, and a big, frozen mountain! That two-headed fellow loves talking about it! And fire!"

"Yes, I'm aware of the mountain. The other three are new though, know anything about them?"

Her new friend thought for a moment, then put his hands on his hips and shook his head. "That's about it! The city is very far away, and you'd need a boat to get there. The funny people who bring my friends food like going to the monastery, I think. But they don't like me, and I don't need food, so we don't talk very much!"

"I see..." Sectonia said. While helpful, this guy had very little information himself. What she did find strange now that she thought about it... How were there so many peaceful people here in a world that was supposed to be fueled by fighting? Was this area not run by a Consul or a flame clock and thus allowed to be peaceful, or was there some underlying problem?

"A question about the town then. Has there been any recent incidents of note, such as an act of violence or something of that kind?"

Papyrus mulled over the new question. "There have been more people coming here lately. I wonder if it's because the sun is gone, and it's always nighttime now? Maybe there's something scary out there in the dark." He shrugged. "Mr. Two Heads says its getting colder, without the sun. I don't feel the cold, myself, but I hope the sun comes back soon. Where could it have gone...?" He stared off into the dark, cloudy sky. "...They say the dark wants fire. If you're going out there, stay warm!"

Now that was interesting, considering there was a day-night cycle everywhere else to her knowledge. "I see. Thanks for the tour and the information." Sectonia said, sort of wanting to just go now. Although with how oblivious Papyrus was, he didn't notice this at all as Sectonia looked for another seeker to discuss plans or perhaps take Papyrus aggro off of her.

---

Once everyone had gotten to a farming town outside their destination, things got... well, it was almost like a brawl on the backstreets. Or at least, an argument upon what looked like fighters with various amounts of skill. While he wasn't a slouch in combat himself, he'd rather gather intelligence on the area instead of joining in the middle of a brawl involving the locals like Nadia or Big Band were. Instead, he moved around the town, using his perception warping mask to blend into the background as he moved about the area, listening to bystanders, looking at other fights that randomly broke out, and tried to find any written information about the city he could like a guide or something.

Eventually he found something akin to that, more explaining the city's tiers and what was involved in them through a combination of hearsay and written material. Or at least, what he could about all three tiers in the lowest tier of the city. So he took what he heard about the upper tiers with a grain of salt when some said it was 'the pinnacle of fighting divinity' or something of the like. Still, he'd spend his time gathering information than fighting, at least for now. Still, not being in Eseka itself, there was only limited information he could get.

From the onset Snowdin hadn't seemed like a large town, and upon getting a closer look it turned out that was very much true. There were certainly smaller settlements out there, but this place was cozy and clustered together enough that a lap around the immediate area didn't take very long at all. The town's only real inn, the aptly named Snotel, separated the shops from the residential section, and besides the large emporium which appeared to perhaps be Snowdin's main shop for general goods, there were a number of other, smaller storefronts tucked away that could be found.

A couple of store signs jumped out at those walking the business strip for different reasons. One was a simple wooden placard, its condition suggesting it was newer than the building it was affixed to, which read only 'Eugenie's.' There was another with a brighter, bolder look, one that intentionally drew the eye to it: 'Boutique Marketing.'

It was to the latter that the red headed monster hunter of the Seekers was apparently on the way to, crossing the snow lined street away from one of the early open cafes with two steaming hot cups in either hand. When he happened to see one of the Seekers' newest recruits, Ace smiled and called him over. "Hey! Kit!"

Kit had been wandering down the main thoroughfare, still trying to shake off the words of the Soothsayers. He had intended to set out to find a suitable base of operations for the Seekers, but so far had little luck. The knight continued walking along the road when he heard a voice call his name and turned to see a fellow Seeker, one whose name he hadn’t yet gotten. ”Oh! Hello there… I’m sorry, I don’t believe I got your name?”

"Everyone calls me Ace," the hunter replied. After a beat he offered one of the coffees to Kit. "I'd give you a full rundown, swap some stories and stuff, but gotta get this back first."

He gestured with the remaining drink to the shop, then glanced back Kit's way with a curious look. "Unless you wanna come along?"

Kit took the cup cautiously, opening his visor to take a sip. His head snapped back a bit as he tasted the coffee, blinking rapidly as the drink went down his throat. ”My, this is… Something. But yes, I’d like to accompany you if you’d have me. Didn’t really get the chance to grab a partner before everyone left.”

The reaction to the drink prompted an amused grin from Ace. It was hard to tell who was familiar with what, but if Kit was as medieval as he looked (which might be the most out of any of them) then he was in for many more surprises.

"Yeah, we're a bunch of eager caeserbers," Ace said, leaving out the fact that a few of the man's new teammates were just less socially inclined than others. "Radalos. C'mon!"

The two men covered the rest of the short distance to Boutique Marketing, trading the hard cold for the building's less-cold interior. The heat was on, but it was still early enough that the chill hung around. It was also late enough that the proprietor, a short, slim, bespectacled moth person was up and around. Well, 'around' wasn't quite right. She yawned, raising one of her several hands to cover her mouth while she waited in front of her office's coffee maker with her wings draped at her back like a cape. The pot wouldn't be done for a while yet, and so when the soft bell of her business' door opening sounded, she spun slowly around and was delighted to see her new acquaintance return.

"Oh good!" She said, reaching out to take the other coffee Ace had been carrying back for her and taking a deep drink from it. She let out a satisfied sigh afterward.

"This is Kit," he told the woman, and then turned to the knight to follow with, "and this is Luna. Just met her right before running into you. She's a... promoter?"

"Mm. Trying to put this place on the map. Plus anyone who hires me!"

"Right. So I figured she'd be the one that could, y'know, shed some light on the town for us and the best place to find stuff."

Kit took another sip of his coffee, more used to it by now, and hummed to himself a little in contemplation. ”I suppose the biggest thing I want to know about is whether there’s any sort of place our group can hole up in while we’re here. Any abandoned buildings or the like. Do you know any place like that?”

Luna blinked at him as if trying to piece together if she'd heard him right or the early morning grogginess was getting to her. "Abandoned buildings?"

She glanced between the two men, although Ace had nodded his head with Kit's question like there was nothing weird about it at all.

"If you're going to stay for a while, wouldn't you rather hear about some of our amenities? We've got a perfectly good hotel, three stars but on the rise!"

She'd moved to pull out a pamphlet for the 'Snotel,' but Ace chimed in with, "nah, who knows if we have the zenny for an extended inn stay for all of us. I think some place out of the way is a good idea too."

"Uh." Clearly Luna had not expected to be telling visitors about hovels around town that day. "Okay then. Well, there's the old manor up on the hill, just south of town. You can't go wrong with a stately place like that, even if you're just... squatting in it? There's also an old mining tunnel between that and the Warrens, if you're looking for... a more natural, rugged experience?"

She was trying her best to make Snowdin's abandoned places seem appealing, marketing the town as best she could apparently. Which was tough when the people she was talking with weren’t interested in traditional draws. She took another long drink of her own coffee before adding, "I'm not going to promise they'll be the coziest places, but you could do worse! ...a lot worse."

Kit tapped the chin of his visor, thinking on Luna’s words. He turned his head to Ace and asked, ”What are your thoughts? I believe that manor would be suitable but it’d probably be best to check out the mineshaft as well just in case.”

"Sounds good to me! If the mine is nearby we'll at least make sure there's nothing dangerous hiding out there, and sleigh it if there is before moving on."

A flawless plan really. Though before they left, there was another thing the Cadet wanted to ask about. He turned back to Luna. "We're also looking for gear. Camping supplies, general goods... oh! And... would you happen to know how the restaurants in town source their ingredients?"

This was something that he hadn't actually thought much about until the day before, when the hunter was gathering materials for the girls at the forge. If every animal and monster turned into a spirit, how was any food establishment able to buy meat in bulk? If they even could. And on that note how could they secure enough for the Lost Numbers? Fruits, vegetables, that was easy to understand - but cuts of meat, bones for broth, fish or hooves for aspic and gelatin...

Luna thought about it. This was more along the lines of what her business actually catered towards, knowing the ins and outs of establishments in order to best market them. The first line of questioning was easy enough to answer, and she did so with two of her four arms gesturing. "You can get almost anything you can think of from Morshu's Emporium right in the center of Snowdin, from the simple to the sophisticated! Even armaments, when Sal delivers them.” The sharp-eyed moth took note of Ace’s arsenal as she spoke. “Of course, if you’re really into weapons, Eugenie’s is the place for you. And if you’re planning to venture out into the winter wonderland…well, there’s always Trap Room. Near that old tunnel I mentioned. From snares to substances, it’s got everything you’d need to tame the wilds. Fair warning, though: the owner’s a little…" Luna searched for the right word, trying to split the difference between honest and off-putting. “Quirky.”

She crossed both sets of arms. “As for the food question, well, we’ve got a little secret that keeps Snowdin better supplied than most places! Might even say it’s the reason we’re the safest haven in the Highlands!” She stepped closer, her voice dropping to an exaggerated conspiratorial whisper. “We know some Holy Order clerics that have a way to make both monsters and game animals _uh pass away normally. No ashy morsels for us; we get to use every part of the beast!”

Ace's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He'd never heard of anything like that before, as far as he knew the only exception to the whole spiritfication thing was in those specific individuals they were fighting against, but to hear there was actually a way for regular people to prevent it...!

"Where can we find them?" the hunter asked, more enthusiastic than what was probably appropriate for the hour.

“Uh…” Luna seemed a little taken aback, breathing in through her teeth with her brows raised. “Not…here?” She tittered with an apologetic look. “Sorry, but there’s no set plan for their travel plans. It’s a big region, and they could be just about anywhere.”

"Oh... right, okay, makes sense," Ace responded, somewhat sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. He recovered quickly though. "Well thanks for your help, Luna."

The Cadet turned to Kit. "Good to go?"

Kit nodded. ”Yes, let’s get moving. Don’t want to waste daylight.”

One look out of the office's small front windows at the overcast sky and Ace cracked an amused grin as he said, "you call this daylight?"

After leaving the one man marketing firm, its owner calling after them to 'tell your friends about us!', the two men made their rounds of Snowdin. With a goal in mind it didn't take long to find what they were looking for in a couple of the establishments the town had to offer. The hard edged, cube shaped backpack that the Ace Cadet sported fit even the bulkiest items like sleeping pads, bags, and bundled up tents, miraculously so. The smaller items, rations and the like, could easily be carried in complimentary bags, though anything that could still fit in the square pack got thrown in there regardless. Even if the Seekers didn't end up using everything, it was better to be prepared than not, and so with that in mind what money they had went toward the team.

...although when they did pass Eugenie's, it turned out to be a very strong temptation for spending there instead. The Cadet had suggested peeking inside after Luna's recommendation only to find a very, very odd looking owner, but also an attractive looking short sword for sale that instantly drew his eye. The golem-like shopkeep, who gestured to himself and said "Cruler" (which the two Seekers took to be his name), gave them a run down of his services in as few words as possible - which meant there was a little guesswork involved but they got the gist: he could do some work to improve weapons for some materials and a fee, as well as create new ones by combining different parts of weapons together by their heads and handles, possibly passing down their attributes.

It was definitely a place that the monster hunter wanted to visit again.

However, the next order of business was locating a base of operations. The hill that the manor was allegedly situated on stood outside of the town, and from where Kit and Ace had ended up after getting their haul part of the residential area was between them and it. That worked out just fine, since they could make quick work investigating the abandoned tunnel beforehand like they'd planned.

"You and... Heismay, came back with Big Band, right?" Ace asked as they walked through the snow. Unlike with the short distance between shops, they had time to fill now. "I thought the whole Dead Zone was a wasteland. What was the place you guys were in like?"

”When I first arrived in the World of Light, it was in a desolate forest outside of a large manor. Barely any animals there, just undead and bandits roaming around. I took it upon myself to keep the roads clear, even if barely anyone used those roads. The manor was filled with even more monsters, I would have entered it myself had the front gate not been locked. Then Big Band came along with Harry and the wolf and blew the gates right open. I helped them out and we raided the manor together to find Heismay.”

Kit stopped speaking for a moment to take a sip from his water canteen. ”After we all left the manor behind, we moved past it to a place much more lively and beautiful. A great lake surrounded by forests and big mountains. I would’ve much preferred to have been dropped off there, personally,” Kit chuckled to himself. ”What about you? Where did you find yourself when you first woke up here?”

It was a little hard to imagine a beautiful place alongside the desolate mud and tar pits that seemed to make up the rest of the area. To think there was a part of the Dead Zone that wasn't, well, dead. It sounded nice.

"I was living in this town called Lumbridge, in a region they call the Land of Adventure. Did you see any of the maps they have in the Avenger? Its south, towards the bottom. Groovios little place with a lot of different people, plus new landscapes to explore would pop up every week or so outside of it." There was a pleasant undertone to Ace's words as he spoke. He had genuinely liked Lumbridge, and he did still think about it and its people often. "Forests, plains, mountains, hills... and weirder places too! Actually, when I 'woke up' one of the regions from my home world had appeared.

"Maybe that's why I ended up there, since it was pretty close to what I was already familiar with." He'd never really thought about the reasons why before, since they didn't seem all that important. Still didn't really, so Ace shrugged casually. "Maybe not though. I mean, which was closer to your world? The zombie area or the lake area?"

Kit laughed a bit at that question, shaking his head. ”The zombie one, most definitely. My world is a desolate place, no civilization, danger around every corner. There’s very few people still around. Mostly undead like myself, the ones that haven’t gone hollow at least. But there’s beauty in it as well, a magnificent city high above the rotten world below it… I had just arrived there when I found myself in this world.” The knight sighed and cast a glance towards Ace. ”You said your world was pretty similar to the Land of Adventure. Do you have anyone there that you care about?”

Undead 'like myself' - did I hear him right? the Cadet thought, so surprised by the statement that he'd hardly caught the rest of the description of the other world. But if the revelation that Kit was a zombie himself had surprised Ace, it was the man's next question that really caught him off guard. "Er-" he started lamely as a few faces from the town flashed into his mind, with one standing out strongly from the rest, circling back until it was the only one he could picture. A soft face, with warm, light skin, dark hair pulled into a bun, and inquisitive eyes behind a pair of elegant glasses.

A pink blush that could have easily been dismissed as the cold weather getting to him spread on Ace's face. "I, uh, I do, yeah."

He might be with Nadia now -and he really liked Nadia- but... it wasn't easy to get over the woman he'd been in love with for so long a time. He certainly still cared for her, one way or another.

Ace scratched at his cheek, not quite embarrassed but just thrown for a little bit of a loop. "She's from the same world as me. I've met a few from there. I'd tell you that you'll probably meet a few from yours too, but if there weren't many people living there in the first place..."

Kit's world sounded kind of grim, honestly, which made Ace appreciate that he'd still turned out to be a friendly guy - at least so far as he'd been talking with him.

"...wait, go back! You said you're undead? You look so normal!"

Kit laughed heartily at Ace’s surprise. ”Yes, I suppose it must come as a bit of a shock. In my world, the undead curse has struck most of the lands. Those who lose their humanity become hollow, just husks of what they used to be. Humanity isn’t just a concept, it is a physical part of the world, one that you can hold in your hands and embrace into yourself. But if you die while your humanity has been restored, you will begin to grow hollow, and your features will grow gaunt and sickly. I was lucky to be human when I crossed over into this world. In fact, I have some humanity here in my pack.”

Kit stopped to open up his pack, producing a small black orb with a glowing white outline in his hands. ”I kept a stockpile of them in case I ever died and went hollow again. I’m sure the same rules apply to me here as they did in my own world, so it’s useful to have. So if you see me fall in battle, don’t fret! I’ll be coming back as strong as ever.”

Since being freed from Galeem's influence, the Ace Cadet had learned a lot about different worlds, technology, cultures, species, and tons of other things. What had once been totally foreign to him had just become something he'd see on a daily basis, and some of these things he'd even come to understand well. And then there was the concept of holding humanity in one's hand!

"Kut-kurazy," Ace said, staring wide-eyed at the orb, then back up to Kit's face, and back again. He didn't cringe away from the physical humanity like he thought he might, but he also made no move whatsoever to touch it. He was so curious, but he'd leave the man's humanity to him.

"You see something new every day here." A small grin had made its way back onto the Cadet's face. All the exciting new things were something he liked about this patchwork world. "That's good to know. I wonder how we could get more of it if you end up using yours, though..."

Kit’s smile fell from his face at that. He shoved the humanity back into his pack. ”Hmm… That I haven’t thought of. Humanity could mostly be found on corpses in my world, but with the way that dying converts one into a spirit in this world, I’m not so sure how it’d work. We’ll have to find out.”

The hunter snapped his fingers and pointed to Kit, a gesture of agreement. "One more reason to find those Holy Order guys too."

The conversation carried them most of the way to their next destination. After passing through a large part of the Warrens (judging by the shallow snow mounds with little paths leading to front doors that suggested burrows), Kit and Ace arrived at what must have been the abandoned mine. From the outside it looked pretty normal, a large tunnel carved into one of the hillsides with wooden support beams starting around the opening and leading deeper in. Long extinguished oil lamps hung from nails driven into these supports or sat broken and frozen over on the ground beside the entrance. There was a fresh layer of snow that had piled up at the mouth of the tunnel, and icicles hanging from the roof.

There were no barriers that would prevent their entry nor signs warning of danger, although there was a small weathered posting displaying a gold coin with an arrow beneath it pointing away from the mine shaft. Besides that the dim sunlight only reached so far into the tunnel, preventing the two men from being able to see past a certain point - unless, of course, they went in themselves.

Kit crossed his arms as he examined the mineshaft, humming to himself a bit as he thought on it. He turned to Ace and spoke, ”I’m not sure this place is what we’re looking for. It seems pretty undefendable compared to something like that manor.”

Ace was inclined to agree. He didn't spot any signs of creatures coming or going, but just because it actually was empty didn't make it a good spot for a base camp. "Here's hoping we don't have to do much defending since we're gonna be the ones out hunting, but yeah, I know what you mean."

The Cadet knocked on one of the beams, dislodging a chunk of snow. There was no telling how sturdy this thing really was either, and reinforcing it to ensure it didn't collapse on top of them while they disturbed the place would take more work than anyone wanted to put in for a temporary shelter.

"Wanna check out the last shop before heading up the hill?"

Kit nodded. ”That sounds like a plan.”

After ruling the mineshaft out, and a quick scan of some of the interior to confirm there really was nothing hiding out in there that could cause problems for them, the two moved on to one final store to get supplies from. There was only that single beaten up sign giving them a vague direction, but as it turned out the location of the shop -if one could even call it that- wasn't actually that far from the mine. At one point in time it might have even been connected to the mine itself, because to call it a hole in the wall would be extremely accurate. The Trap Room was signified by a duo of torches at the mouth of another narrower, shallower tunnel and a crude wooden name board hanging above it. Just inside the opening was a heavy wooden and iron door, closed to separate the elements from the room behind it.

Inside was a carved out space with a natural stone ceiling, though the floors and a few walls featured planks to make the place a little more inviting. There were one or two electric lights connected by wires through a separate doorway at the far end marked "employee only" where some some strange muted noises could be heard, but most of the lighting inside was from oil lamps or torches like the ones outside. It gave the shop a somewhat threatening feel, especially with the... devices lined up everywhere. There were many iron cages, some larger than Kit and Ace themselves, as well as humane steel animals traps... and less humane ones, ranging from small to large. More simplistic traps stood around the area as well, along with smaller, more high-tech looking nexo traps and capture spheres. While all of those were more or less regular hunting implements, there was also a couple of stockades in the far back, as well as a literal guillotine - though the latter had a few barrels piled around it, as if it hadn't seen use any time recently.

"Ah, customers..." came a deep voice from the figure standing just behind a makeshift checkout counter. The man was huge in width and height, easily a foot or two taller than both Seekers, and he puffed happily on a pipe as he regarded his visitors. In fact, that wide and off putting grin on his face barely changed even as he spoke, pushing a weird machine he'd been fiddling with off to the side. "If you're looking for something... specific, let me know. Otherwise, take a look around..."

Kit would allow Ace to speak to the shopkeeper while he wandered around the store, examining the traps and cages with morbid curiosity. As he did the man kept one bright eye on him, examining Kit in turn. His expression never changed even while he took stock of the weapons and armor the men had on them, attempting to make some determinations about what kind of clientele they were.

Ace had approached the counter, though not without casting doubtful looks around the place first. It was the traditionally human captive devices that gave him pause, and so when he looked back at the Trap Room's owner it was with a suspicion and a lowered voice. "Just what are you trapping here?"

"All types of dangerous critters," the shopkeeper replied easily. "Monsters take all kinds of shapes, so enterprising tamers need all kinds of traps... which I'm happy to provide."

"And that?" the hunter asked, nodding his head towards the guillotine. The large man's pipe quivered as a soft rumbling chuckle escaped him.

"Separating the big pieces, from the bodies of big monsters. Sadly no one's come by for that service in a while..."

At some point the Cadet had crossed his arms, and he didn't unfold them as he thought to himself. This guy was definitely 'quirky,' but it wasn't like Ace could call him out on anything. He'd seen for himself the various forms monsters took here, and even the scholars of his world had special devices for harvesting monster parts if there weren't any hunters around to assist them. He was getting a weird vibe from the shop keep, but for now that was all it was. Plus... well, traps were always a handy thing to have around. Ace hadn't gotten a chance to make any more after he'd used what he had, so this would be as good a time as any to stock back up with what money he had left.

After a moment spent thinking, with the shop owner patiently standing by, the monster hunter relented. "...alright, let's see what you got."

"Heheheh, excellent. You won't be disappointed..."

The man rounded the counter and led Ace to a section for lower tech traps. Kit's own tour of the shop's interior would see him end up near small bins of various items, from pungent baits to metallic discs that spun when opened. There were also vials on small shelves, labeled as poisons, tranquilizers, and paralytics, and a few raw materials too.

"You know..." the deep voice said from close by Kit's shoulder. While Ace was picking out what he wanted, the shopkeeper had come over to check on his other possible customer. His voice was not quite a whisper, but it was certainly lower than it had been a few minutes ago with a tone that suggested he was implying more than what he was saying. "If you want to skip the trapping process, I do trade in any kind of creature, Pals or otherwise... even kinds you wouldn't normally see around here... if you're interested."

Kit wasn’t quite sure what the trapper was implying but still felt rather uncomfortable as the man spoke. ”Uh, thank you, but I don’t believe I’m interested.”

The man stroked his chin, mumbling, "I see... pity."

He ambled back to the counter with the grin still in place, soon meeting the knight's companion there. Ace's arms were full of a few smaller, pre-made hunting traps and trap-making mechanisms. Before the Cadet even spread it on the counter the shopkeeper tallied it up in his head, though before giving a price he did what any merchant would and went for an up sell. From beneath the counter he produced one of the blue crystal spheres, setting it before Ace and gesturing for the man to go ahead and pick it up to look it over.

"It's called a Pal Sphere... made with crystalized energy," he said, with a short motion of his head towards the bin of paldium fragments. "It'll catch anything you want, heheheh... well, it'll give you a chance at it at least. Real useful devices... "

"Ehh..." Ace's face scrunched up, not sold on them yet. He had a vague idea of how they worked thanks to similar items a few of the other Seekers used and Sierra back in Edinburgh had transported her living iceberg. It wasn't something he was particularly interested in, and frankly might be on the edge of poaching, but then again he could imagine a few use cases for them. Maybe some of the other members of White Team would be interested too.

Sensing a sale just needed a little more of a push, the large man took another puff of his pipe and added, "it's more convenient to buy them than make them... and a bundle of them would be discounted with the rest of your purchase, so why not?"

Ace was pretty much the opposite of frugal, so he gave in soon enough and let the shopkeeper wrap up a few of them with the rest of the traps. He shoved everything into his backpack, gripping both straps around his arms as it was getting rather heavy. He still got a rather off-putting feeling from the place, but if the things he bought worked then he wouldn't complain. Maybe a more thorough investigation of the place was warranted, but for now, it was almost time for Kit and Ace to meet back up with everyone else.

After one last item on their list, of course.

"Ready?" Ace asked Kit, already heading to the door.

Kit nodded. ”Ready.” The pair exited the shop and began walking through the snowy streets of Snowdin, leaving the town behind and walking through a shriveled forest on their way up a hill to Beneviento Manor. Standing in front of the cliffside manor, it was eerily silent save for the blowing winds. A chill crawled up Kit’s spine as he made his way to the front door.

The knight looked to Ace. ”Not sure what we’re gonna find in there. Hopefully it won’t be as populated as the last manor I visited…”

The door was ajar, and the sounds of scraping metal filtered out from the inside, suggesting that Kit's hopes were about to be dashed.

Taking the mug and the advice with a quiet word of thanks, Geralt slowly sipped at the coffee while mulling on what Grillby had told him. Their quarry was tattooed, reveled in a challenge, and immune to pain. The easiest way to find him would be to draw attention to yourself with lights and, presumably, some noise to accompany it. The other part of what he said also intrigued Geralt, that Snowdin was the safest place to be. Fighting was an integral part of the World of Light, so he understood, with sacrifices needed to fuel those Flame Clocks like the one they’d seen on Consul I’s ship by Mafia Town. Snowdin avoiding that was interesting. It could be a number of things, from hunting wildlife to surrounding areas hosting the Flame Clock, and thus Snowdin being a small hideaway spared the worst of the World of Light.

Regardless, he filed away the information mentally and began sipping at his coffee as he thought of ideas. He didn’t have much in the way of methods to produce much of a light show, bonfires aside, though in a pinch he could fire off a Holy Lance to try and get some attention if he found a clear and high enough spot to do so. It was the mistletoe that he found his thoughts turning to. What exactly was the manner of weakness? Did he have to ingest it? Or would simply being near the toxins be enough? Would they need to coat their weapons in residue from the plant? Such vague advice they’d been given, but leave it to a Consul to help in the most impractical manner.

Once he finished his drink, he gave Grillby a nod and emerged into the streets of Snowdin. He caught a glimpse of Sectonia being led around by a tall skeleton man, and decided not to join their little tour. He’d get more pertinent information later. Looking the other way, he saw Edward with a tremendous wagon, his chosen companion having run off to greet the two riders he could see on the edge of town. So, he approached the general with a nod, raising his hand to his ear to contact Sandalphon.

“Sandalphon, this is Geralt. Just wanted to inform you that I’ve gathered some information about our Guardian. Invincible, tattooed man who revels in a challenge. Only thing he’s interested in, apparently. Easiest way to find him is to not be here in Snowdin, and to make one hell of a racket. Specifically, a light show. Figure if we find a high enough spot and make ourselves known, he’ll come right for us. But we’ll have to make sure he sees us, and we’re ready for anybody else who comes to investigate. Not keen on getting us into a twenty-way fight.”

A bad first impression. Sakura's face reddened and she shrunk to the back of the group as the seethe developed.

Here they are! The unbiased, arbiters of fairness and the reason the entire system of Esaka works, and isn't corrupt at all. Just like Sakura promised. Only of course, she forgot to mention how just how much they were HUGE JERKS. For goodness sake! This was unbelievable! Sakura grimaced and bit her finger tips with every crass joke and horrible wish.

Fortunately, most of the Seekers took to battering the little jerks with gusto and even a sense of whimsy. That made Sakura visibly relax, letting out a worried breathe. Even Zenkichi said it was fun, and he looked like he was enjoying himself flexing on a little rude yokai. "Y-yeah. Haha. All part of the fun." Sakura said.

Well, it was about time she did her part to help.

"Choooke! Choke artist!" One of the little gremlins said as she jogged into the fray. "Fraud! Washed! How's that first place medal treatin' you oh wait you don't have one! Third Place Andy!"

"Tch!" Sakura borrowed a technique from the hermit Oro and violently snatched the gremlin from the ground before slamming it behind her by the leg, and brought it over and slammed it in front of her, then behind, in front, behind, in front, before frisbee chucking it into the horizon.

Sakura blinked a few times. Clearing her throat, she went to go help out the new guy, Harry, since as far as Sakura could tell he was just some random messy guy they found somewhere with a pry bar. She didn't want to judge a book by its cover, but, uh, of all the people around her right now he looked like he could get hurt the easiest, and she had no idea of his capabilities.

Meanwhile, Juri was watching the chaos, invisible, from a nearby rooftop, trying not to bust up laughing.

Celica was, at the very least, happy that Sandalphon was much better at dealing with the man than she would have been. She followed along as they were lead to a more normal section of the store, and shortly after left alone. She was looking through things, but easily distracted, as she turned to look into a bin filled to the top with red and white mushrooms. Well, some were red with white spots, some were white with red spots, and she couldn't help but wonder what the difference was. It wasn't until she was asked a question more directly that she stood up straight, and turned back to the row of clothes.

It took a bit of thinking for her to come up with an answer that her team leader would have said, based on all the experience she had.

"Well, in the world I come from, there isn't much use in blending into your environment, because the technology, and even the creatures, can typically see right through any sort of disguise, either with scene or thermal vision. But, this world is very different to mine. If it were Elma making the decision, I believe she would say that personal is not without importance, as looking one's best can be a great boost in confidence, and therefor morale. However, she would also say there must be a limit to such a thing, and that ultimately the practicality of the gear being worn must come before something such as color preference. In this case... perhaps it would be best to get the same for everyone, something chosen for its ability to blend in, rather than chosen for someone's color preference..."

She took a few of different sizes off their hooks, and held them up, all the same as the others, the only difference being they were solid white with no unique colors on them. "You can bypass the issue of everybody being picky on color, by only offering one single color to begin with. And the practicality of the outfit being camouflage is a good enough reason for white is chosen over any other color, so if anyone complains about it being white, they would be hard pressed to come up with an argument for why any other color should have been chosen considering the amount of snow out there. Even if it may be a bit hard for some of the group to blend in regardless, given their... eccentric nature, or sizes."

She then blinked up at Sandalphon, wondering if that answer was helpful or not, or if she would rather try and pick a unique color for each member of the team. She wasn't exactly sure how much they intended on blending in, or if they might need to not be seen at all.

Back on her world, avoiding threats altogether was the best method of survival, but that couldn't always happen. It was fairly normal to plan their routes to avoid entire areas that were a threat, just to reach an objective deeper inside an area. But when it came to directly confronting threats, once they were seen, there was rarely any turning back. The beasts of Mira were giant, and evolved to hunt and kill, able to spot them, and their machines, from a very long distance. And the Ganglion, their technology was easily capable of using thermal vision, among other sensors, to pick up all life around them, and pick out the ones they cared about from the ones they didn't. Not to mention much of their combat was done with giant machines, so it wasn't like they just painted the things the color of the grass and hoped for the best. They just took on threats head on, and she figured they might have to do the same with anything they came across here. But it was a different world, and maybe they could avoid being seen to begin with.

"Admittedly... I don't really know your intentions here fully. Whether you would like to blend in or be more up front about things. I mean, worst case we can suit everybody up in a bright yellow and see what happens." Maybe they could convince any potential threats they were just construction workers... There was another moment of thought, before she said "Or, if you want them to be personalized for each member, I could go find them and ask everybody what color they would prefer before we make our choices?" That would be cold, and possibly take some time, as she had no idea where everybody had run off to. But really, Celica just wanted to be useful.

Besides the troublesome but ultimately harmless antics of the Koopa siblings on the road, the ride towards Esaka was a fairly pleasant one. Primrose could even relax a little next to Malon on the wagon's seat, enjoying the warm sun and slight breeze while taking in more of the landscape. It was mostly the same deep yellow crop lands, though the small settlements they passed here and there broke up the solid colors. With as many people as they had walking together with the wagon and its cargo, it was almost like they were armed escorts for a milk merchant that took their business a little too seriously... but if there were any bandits out in the fields thinking that maybe they were transporting something other than milk, they knew better than to challenge such a group.

Primrose glanced down at Sakura when she'd asked about dancing, even if the tone of the girl's voice made it sound like it wasn't a serious question. The dancer herself gave Sakura a small smile before settling back into her seat. "Of course you could," she answered, "for you, I don't think it would be any trouble at all to learn."

Sure Primrose could try and teach her, but in this world? Learning a skill like the empowering dances Primrose employed would be as simple as absorbing the spirit of someone that could already do it.

Her response to Sakura was much friendlier than it had been to Harry earlier, when just before they'd gotten the milkmaid back on the road the man had laid his hand on her shoulder. She hadn't expected it from anyone, let alone some who was basically a complete stranger, and though he might have considered it a kind gesture she didn't forgive any ignorance on his part. She had fixed him with such an icy stare that those watching might question whether they were actually on the White Team instead of the Gold.

"Don't touch me again," she'd told him, a flash of her teeth promising that he really wouldn't want to try testing her.

Otherwise the trek onward to their destination was a calm one for once, so it was no shock when as they got nearer there was a commotion on the path ahead of them. Once they were close enough some of the Seekers wasted no time at all going to check things out, which also did not come as a surprise.

"Oh dear..." Malon murmured, though she was less fearful and more anxious, as though she was familiar with what was going on. To Primrose that was a good sign - at least they weren't dealing with something totally unexpected.

With the majority of the Seekers now going to investigate, Primrose gracefully slipped out of her seat in the front of the wagon and rounded the back of it to go see what was going on for herself. She saw that Therion had taken the spot that Amaterasu had vacated earlier, after apparently having already seen what the state of the small town's center. He reclined on the cart with his tail curling up and down to lightly thump the wood every now and then, not quite lounging but not appearing on alert either. And he filled Primrose in before she even asked.

"Bunch of monsters making trouble," he said flippantly. It was clear he wasn't interested in the scuffle going on in the slightest, so rather than join in he'd returned to the road. "No clue what they're yelling about, but I'm sure they'll be shut up soon."

Primrose didn't doubt that, since there was no question that the Seekers would put a stop to such nuisances. Still, she continued into the town proper to find various battles already in progress. She also found that when Therion said he didn't know what the monsters were yelling about, he had meant literally - it half sounded like gibberish to the dancer's ears too.

"...well then," she sighed to herself. On the peripheral of the town square she did a little performance, not anywhere close to as flashy as she normally would dance. Once she was finished with the bold but short steps she smoothly transitioned out of her final pose as her magic took effect on the rest of the Seekers. The mole dance, boosting their defense so that even a lucky hit from one of the yokai wouldn't hurt them too much before their arrival to Esaka.

She left her allies to it, waltzing back down the road she'd come from. She didn't wait around to see the results of her dance, as she knew it would work. Even the yokai could tell that their opponents had toughened up all of a sudden.

"Grragh! More! Cheating!" the massive centipede spirit grunted as it stomped forward and slammed its chitinous head down, pulled it back up, and slammed it down again thrice, trying to squash the little angel it was currently embattled with. First the healing, now a stat increase? It wasn't only annoying, it just wasn't right!

"It's not cheating! It's called teamwork, bug brain!" Pit replied, easily hopping backward to avoid each impact and retaliating with a stroke of one of his twin blades across the yokai's exoskeleton as he did.

"Disgusting. A pure one-v-one is the only real way to fight!"

Pit had arrived in the town only a little before the others, and having learned much the same as everyone else -that the yokai's pitching a fit wasn't uncommon and would blow over soon enough- he'd originally opted just to keep an eye on the situation while he waited for the rest of the group to catch up. The little spirit monsters fighting amongst themselves was kind of funny, though the big ones might eventually pose a problem. Of course once the other Seekers did arrive and promptly got themselves involved, Pit wasn't about to let them go at it without jumping in himself.

The centipede guai had burst out into mean spirited laughter when its apparent rival the Ippon-Datara was thrown backward by Big Band. It threw out a slew of demeaning remarks at its fellow yokai and went to pick up pieces of the cat it had smashed to really add injury to insult, only to find a winged boy blocking its path and declaring something along the lines of their temper tantrum being put to an end.

How insulting! And yet, for Pit, being left with the biggest and nastiest looking enemy was just perfect.

After its head slams the centipede swiped a long, sharp arm at Pit, though the angel narrowly avoiding its claws once more. Pit felt one his heels tap against something, glancing quickly over his shoulder to find some kind of stall abandoned by the villager manning it as the yokai advanced. Wanting to prevent more of the town from being damaged, Pit leapt up and directly towards the centipede. He let his weapon de-materialize for a moment as he grabbed its antennae in either hand and continued sailing over it. With strength that didn't seem to fit his small form, Pit yanked the centipede back as he fell on the other side of it. It hissed in surprise and annoyance as it was pulled off balance, and when he landed after releasing the insect yokai Pit brought his bow back to bear.

"Haha-" he started, spinning to take advantage of the opening he'd thought he'd made, but the centipede made no move to try and right itself. Instead it flexed and fell all the harder, aiming to crush the angel with a heavy back slam. "-waah!"

A quick swap into the Guardian Orbitars shielded Pit from the impact. The centipede curled up and sprang onto its feet once more, snarling about "cheap gimmicks!" as its opponent darted right for it. Pit, bow back in his hands, slashed the bladed weapon across the yokai's front. He sheared the weaker legs from its segmented body as it twisted this way and that to block. Every cut it suffered seemed to incense the monster more, and eventually it just lashed out with both claws at once. Pit parried one easily, the other took hold of the angel and lifted him into the air. With an angry shout the centipede guai turned and hurled Pit away from it - only for the boy's wings to snap out and stop his airborne movement with one strong wing beat. With another he was back in the yokai's face with a cross slash, made all the stronger by way of Pit still being in the air. The centipede reeled back as Pit flipped to land on his feet, giving the yokai a cheeky grin before he kicked off for another go at the thing.

They clashed, and it soon became obvious that the angel had the upper hand. He was nimble, but if he did get struck it never resulted in a down. The centipede was quick with its attacks but slow on its defense, having relied on its natural bulk and armored backside - so when faced with an actual warrior its chances of winning were growing slimmer and slimmer by the second.

The centipede curled up into a ball suddenly, rolling backwards away from Pit as the latest swipe of the latter's sword glanced against the chitin. Instead of standing back up the centipede spun in place for a moment, a motion very familiar to Pit. It was revving up, and sure enough it sped towards him as a ball of destruction.

Since he saw it coming, Pit easily leapt out of harm's way. The centipede barreled past him, and Pit didn't realize his mistake until it failed to turn in the relatively small space. The yokai crashed into the post of a building and snapped the wood in half. Though the whole thing trembled it remained standing for now, but further damage might cause to to collapse.

"Hey!" Pit called after it, wide-eyed, running towards the centipede to head it off before it could roll again. He wasn't fast enough - it zoomed back out at him, and this time when it missed it purposefully curved towards another shack on stills, more or less forcing Pit to leap into the way instead of out. "Come on! Now who's cheating?!"

Pit snapped the bow apart and caught the centipede ball with his two blades crossed, holding it back as it spun and pushed against him. Dirt flew up, but neither combatant budged. After a certain point the centipede uncurled and lurched forward, snapping its claws on the angel's swords. Its mandibles began to wiggle and foam, a greenish gas beginning to leak out from it. It stunk of something toxic, making Pit wrinkle his nose. "And using gimmicks!"

He twisted his wrists, spinning the blades and breaking out of the centipede's grip. With a flick the hilts were back in his hands and he raised his arms up high, slamming his fists together and bringing the pommel of both swords down onto the yokai's head. "Ghhk-!"

It was temporarily dazed, its poison petering out before the cloud could spread. Pit's boot came up in a kick to the underside of the yokai's jaw, snapping its head back. He followed up with the bow blades, a cutting combo to the vulnerable parts of the centipede's thorax. He kept up with his attacks, wearing the centipede guai down with a flurry of slashes. It was over with a powerful horizontal double cut, one from the left and one from the right. The centipede staggered backward a few steps and then flopped over, twitching and fading into unconsciousness.

"There! How's that for mid tier?" Pit said after a breath, dismissing his bow and dusting off his hands.

Another town protected, even if was just from some minor threats. It wasn't the most inconspicuous thing they could've done, but at least interesting first look into Esaka's yokai.

In some ways the strange double chain setup the wagon had actually worked out, at least for the moment, as Edward had his copper golems slide their spears through the chain’s loops and could then simply have them mindlessly march forwards. It was a slow process, of course, but the metal constructs did not tire in their match towards the center of town.

They weren't going to be suitable for pulling it at any kind of practical speed however, especially under load, which meant it was a good thing Heismay managed to track down a pair of mounted locals, and information about both about where they’d acquired these Reindrix and how they’d tamed them.

”What useful sounding devices” Edward commented upon learning about Pal Spheres, before suggesting that ”We’ll have to ask the other Seekers if they’ve found something like that in town. Assuming the similar sounding objects that some of them use for monster storage aren't usable for that same purpose at any rate. I believe I have seen… Roxas I believe his name was… using such devices, though they were red and white rather than blue if I recall correctly”

Still, that ment they’d be hanging around in the cold till the others did return, which was hardly a recipe for a good or productive time. They did have their new carriage for shelter, of course, but its wooden benches didn't exactly provide comfortable seating, nor was its interior decor particularly pleasant to be around.

Peering through the snow and dark for somewhere nearby to go, Edward spotted a building called the Snotel which claimed to have rooms open.

”Hmmm. Perhaps the original owners of this wagon stayed, or are staying, there?” he pondered out loud, before suggesting they check it out, vaguely saying it would be ”Best to get ahead of things” he himself having not decided what they would do if someone tried to reclaim their property.

Leaving his golems to keep an eye on their transport, the pair headed. Then, after pausing outside to shake off his wings and stomp his feet clear of at least some snow, Edward pushed open the front door, and entered the establishment, seeking answers or, at the very least, and perhaps more so if you boiled it down to base needs, warmth.

Inside was a plain but practical reception whose desk was manned by a pair of odd fellows, one green and one blue, when went by Clark and Stanly respectively going by their name tags. Both beings waved enthusiastically to Edward and Heismay as they stepped inside, while Clark specifically called out “hello friends! Come in come in”

”Good morning to you” Edward said, as he finished de-snowing his boots on a welcome mat, before striding over.

“Looking for a room?” Stanly asked, just a little to hopefully.

”Ah, no I’m afraid not. I just have a question regarding the carriage outside” Edward apologized, causing both beings' shoulders to slump in disappointment, before setting about quickly explaining/asking ”You see we just dug it out of the snow, and where wondering if the owner might have passed by here seeing as they had been deprived of their, hmm, home away from home so to speak?”

Not that it was the best place to live inside, but still, that was a future problem, and frankly all the more reason that they might have come here.

“Hmmm, no sorry, don’t think so” Stanly replied, to which Clark added that there where “Not many people coming out here recently”

”Ah, how unfortunate” Edward said, before asking ”has business been slow?” out of a mix of politeness and as an excuse to stick around indoors for just a bit longer

“Yup”

“Basically none”

“We’ve got whole cupboards of stuff that’s fresh as the day we got it” Stanly said with a sigh, only for Clark to insist that “it’ll all pick up once summer comes along! Then it’ll all be worth it” which Edward highly doubted was the case.

”And that will be?”

“Any day now! It's been snowing for what feels like forever!”

Empirically speaking, Edward thought, that implied that it would probably keep doing so. The region being called the Frozen Highlands certainly seemed to indicate as such. Plus with the way it managed to exist between two temperate regions and parallel with a desert, it certainly didn’t seem to be a natural state of affairs, now that he considered it. Not that anywhere was, of course, it all being glued together by Galeem, but if he was to hazard a guess he’d say that seasons were likely not a factor in the current weather.

At any rate, it didn’t seem like he’d be getting much information out of these poor fools, but, he thought, after a moment, maybe he’d be able to help them help him, and in doing so keep them afloat for a little while longer.

Till Galeem’s world inevitably swallowed them up (something was keeping the clock in the center of town nice and fed after all) at any rate.

”Well, till you do see the weather improve, perhaps I can divest you of some of your excess stock? Pillows. Blankets. Toiletries. Candles. That sort of thing? We need to furnish our new transport, and perhaps a new home if we can locate one” he asked/suggested.

“Oh you would? That’d be swell” Stanley said, to which Clark nodded in enthusiastic agreement and then offered “I can go and see what exactly we’ve got right away”

”Before you do” Edward gently interrupted, before glancing at his companion and asking if there was ”Is there anything else you think they might have that we could use, Himsley?”

---

It seemed that this blue medical droid had been looking for something herself, perhaps something in that large manor Ramattra had passed by earlier?... Without much explanation and, well, a lack of anything better to do at the current moment, Ramattra decided to join the unnamed robot on her quest to examine the manor. Maybe there was someone there who could help guide the Omnic towards the Monastery? He looked up toward the Beneviento Manor in the distance, almost admiring the shoddy state it found itself in. If Ramattra could make facial expressions, it would wince in hesitation at the consideration that anything, let alone anyONE, useful to his quest. Well, at the very least, the droid next to him seemed interested in it…

On the hike there, the two of them engaged in… amusing discussion. At the very least, Ramattra found Blazermate’s comments about “medabots”, a term which meant nothing to the larger robot. He assumed it was some primitive robot from wherever the small robot hailed from. “You confuse me with someone else.” His tone was frigid and coarse, the displeasure seeping from the corners of his hypothetical mouth. How ironic they both seemed disconnected from their original worlds. “But your enthusiasm is appreciated. We will make the most of it.”

On their trawl there, Ramattra would half-hazardly guide Blazermate up the snowy hill, recalling the direction he had approached from and remembering the path he had taken, wading through thickets of dying trees. Deep footprints echo the pathway he had taken, drawing them behind the hill as the pair trekked the mounds of frost, leading them to the cobbled pathway that would take them the rest of the way up toward the building.

As they entered the building, the entryway was… somehow the exact way Ramattra envisioned it. He was relieved, however, to discover that there HAD been somebody living here, which meant this endeavor would be worth something. Ramattra was even able to uncover some coins that surely would be valuable elsewhere. Yet it still felt so abandoned… dusty… and something else felt off; the sheer presence of them in this building seemed to have awoken something deep in the bowels of the manor. At first, Ramattra mistook the rumbling in the floor as a faulty foundation, given the poor conditions of the residence, but was soon surprised to find himself and his new acquaintance ambushed by undead machines.

At the first sign of danger, Ramattra would clap his hands together, a loud chime ringing as the nanites he harnessed from his chest began to reshape his body into a hulking form, a larger pair of arms sidelining his smaller pair. Quickly, while his activation of Nemesis Form was still fresh, he grabbed one of the machines from the ground, his massive hand essentially throwing the robot away from the two for clearer space. “A sneak attack? Coward’s play.” Ramattra seemed tickled by the unusual event. It had been a few weeks since he had seen action, after all, monks are meant to be peaceful, though these primitive robots seemed beyond reason. They clawed and clawed, even leaving a small slit in the metal of Ramattra’s foot. “You’ve dealt with undead machines before? Then this should make for an easy fight. Time to prove your worth.”

With a barrage of barreling punches, Ramattra held off whatever threats he could while Blazermate assisted him, quickly mending the surface wounds on the Omnic’s metal. “A healer! How resourceful.” Ramattra praised the medibot as she performed her support duty. Strangely enough, the healing robot reminded him of another he knew… It seemed that severing had no significant impact on the enemies they were facing, which led Ramattra to believe that weakening or forms of immediate destruction were their best bet… It seemed Blazermate had more tools than he did, and he could only upkeep Nemesis Form for so long.

“We have to deal with these savages quickly!” He announced with a dire tone. Ramattra could feel himself reaching his limit as his Nanites grew weaker and weaker. His fists would continue to thrash and slam any zombies foolish enough to approach him. The monk desperately hoped the situation would die down, as he clung to the last few moments of his Nemesis Form. This battle would not be won from a distance, and Ramattra was in no position to be away from his heightened defensive mode. Thanks to Blazermate, he was able to continue the fight without keeling over, but he feared the worst.

Although quick to call out for the yokai mob to ‘get them’, many of the smaller creatures were less eager to charge at the group of newcomers than their bluster made it seem. Once Nadia realized that most of the Gaki were all talk, she rolled her eyes and seized the initiative herself, diving down on all fours to sprint straight into the thick of things. Other Seekers followed her example, spreading out to tackle three or four of the miscreants at a time, but Big Band stood his ground. The Ippon-Datara didn’t stay down for long, after all. A few seconds after he hit the deck, the one-legged metalworker rose with the aid of a couple Gaki cronies, his cyclopean eye glaring with the same light that pulsed through the veins of his brawny arms. “A cheap trick,” he snarled, shrugging off the smaller yokais’ helping hands. ”Easily countered.”

“Maybe on paper. Let’s see if you got what it takes.” Without warning, Band bulled forward again, faster than anyone his size had a right to. That burst of speed lasted less than a second, but that was enough to close the distance to his opponent–yet not enough for the Ippon-Datara to enact anything beyond the most basic countermeasure. Knowing an attack would trade with the Brass Knuckles at best, he resorted to blocking with his hammer. Brass met iron in a weighty clang, and though neither yielded, the impact pushed the yokai back a few inches. Though technically at an advantage, he wasn’t ready for a proper punish, and Band got off lightly with a panicked backhand. By the time the Ippon-Datara lifted his bludgeon for a real counterattack, Band had already backed off.

Wham! Falling just short, the hefty hammer smash struck only the ground, and as its shook the earth Band returned fire with a little tremor of his own. The detective deployed his massive pedal, belting out, “Giant steps!” as it swung in an overhead arc to beat the dirt like a drum.

The pedal slam fell even shorter of Ippon-Datara than his own attempted wallop, but the yokai’s confusion came to an abrupt end when the ensuing shockwave swept his leg out from under him. ”Gyah!” He hit the ground with a surprised grunt, and right away Band closed the distance with another Brass Knuckles. His huge fist whiffed, blowing through the air above the Ippon-Datara’s head as he tried to get up, but before the slow yokai could capitalize with a whack from his hammer, Big Band managed to recover and grab him with his big bell. A good shake left the yokai with ringing ears, but rather than combo off the throw Band went for another knockdown with Low Rank, hoping that a row of organ pipes to the knee would be enough to end the fight. Instead the Ippon-Datara sprang into the air with a roar, his maul raised for a meteoric smash.

Band, though, stood firm in the face of the deadly impact, eyes up as he bided his time. His first instinct was to snatch his foe out of the sky with Beat Extend, but he knew it would be dangerously tricky to time right on the first go. At the last moment he settled for blocking instead, and just in time. The huge smash blasted the ground, sending fragments of earth flying, but Band’s stalwart guard mitigated the damage. Left in a very unsafe position by its frenzied haymaker, the Ippon-Datara received another faceful of Brass Knuckles that sent him tumbling backward. ”Aargh!”

He came to a stop in time to see Band slide forward again, and rushed to compose himself. This time, the yokai told himself, he would not fumble the punish. He narrowed his eye and put up his guard, only for Band to cut his ride short with Emergency Break and grab the yokai with his bell yet again. This time the ringing took a heavy toll, and when Band released him the Ippon-Datara could barely stand. He leaned on the handle of his planted hammer for support, head spinning, and Band took a half-step back to gauge his foe’s condition.

By that point, the Gaki who had the metalworker’s back earlier had a few choice words instead. ”Dude, he keeps grabbing you!”

”Why aren’t you breaking his throws?”

The Ippon-Datara slapping his hair face with his palms, trying to clear the dizziness. ”I’m trying!” he growled, his frustration growing alongside the sensation of helplessness. ”There’s a lot going on!”

One Gaki shook his head mournfully. ”The mental stack! His brain’s broken!”

With insult added to injury, the Ippon-Datara roused himself with a bellow. His inner fire surged as he channeled his power into his hammer, igniting it. When he whacked the earth, the impact sent forth a slow flame wave that crawled toward Band along the ground. He waited a moment, then flung himself forward, leaping over the flame to deliver a bombastic somersault slam.

Steeled by his many years of fighting, Band was ready. He stood to block the blazing wallop, then parried the predictable flame wave with his cymbal for good measure. “Uh-huh,” he drawled, not impressed. The next moment the Ippon-Datara’s eyes went wide as Band clasped him in Heat Extend, then shook him like a tambourine. Dazed, he could do nothing but drop limply, and for the grand finale Band sent him packing with a final Brass Knuckle. The punch snapped his opponent’s tusks, and after flying a couple dozen feet the yokai failed to rise. Instead, he burst into blue spirit flame. He burned quickly, and after a moment only a ghostly outline remained. ”Damn…knowledge…checks…ugh,” he groaned.

The Gaki around him stared in astonishment. When Band strode toward them, the little yokai quailed at his footfalls. “Y’all hearin’ me now? Beat it! Unless your ears need a good cleanin’, too!” Stammering apologies, the Gaki returned to this spirit world in a series of ghostly blue flashes. The disembodied spirit of the Ippon-Datara took a little longer, glaring at Band balefully, but ultimately disappeared as well. Band let out a weary sigh. “I’m too old for this crap.”

He turned to watch as the bout between the Centipede Guai and Pit came to an end a few moments later. Band nodded in respect at the angel’s victory, noting the little guy’s ability to hit way above his weight class. “Nice goin’, captain,” he complimented him with a friendly smile. Neither Sakura nor Harry made as much of a spectacle with their own brawls, but then again, there was only so much fight a couple Gaki could put up in the first place.

Not far away, Nadia had been having some fun of her own. No matter how big they talked, the Gaki were seldom ready when she ran at them, and few put up much of a fight. The first one she swept up in her rekka, landing two cat scratches before hopping up to floor it with an El Gato axe kick. That seemed to be enough to keep it down, so she went straight for the hapless yokai’s closest friend. A roundhouse kick to the chin spun it away, stunned, and a hyper-extended follow-up turn kick to the back sent it sprawling. The third Gaki put up its arms, shielding its face, so Nadia promptly swept it off its feet with a cat slide. It hit the ground with a winded grunt, clutching its abdomen as its tongue lolled out, and Nadia moved on to the next.

With the 16% speed boost from Clockwork Apple refreshing constantly, the feral fought like a woman possessed, but rather than go overboard on the little guys she found herself showing off instead. She prioritized short, snappy, cool-looking combos, performing acrobatic feats more for the fun of it than anything. One Gaki she flexibly launched into the air with Limber Up, then followed into the air to smack back down with Flying Screen Door, her reverse upside-down kick. Another she grabbed and toyed with in a giant yarn ball wound from her own muscle fibers. For every yokai she knocked down, another one remained at the periphery of the fight, content just to watch the spectacle unfold.

”Whoa, she’s pretty good!”

”Cool combos!”

”That rushdown is crazy!”

”Looking respectfully!”

Increasingly giddy, Nadia happily pulled her punches -her claws barely even sharpened- so the yokai could come back for more. Of course, not finishing any foes off led to a half-dozen coming after her at once, but luck was on the feral’s side. When she planted her ears in the ground to perform Wheel of Fortune, the extra hits were enough to trigger Maddening Voice. Multitudinous laughter burst from her lungs, and the multicolored soundwaves blasted the yokai away, returning all of them to the spirit world in one giant spectral fireball. Nadia came to a stop resting on her side, and there she lay, grinning at the excited spectators.

”Was that her super?!”

”Her attacks are borderline unreactable!”

”How have I never seen her before?!”

”It should have been me!”

Savoring all the attention, Nadia reclined there -a little short of breath- until another Gaki stepped forward from the crowd. This one was a little bigger than the others, and he wore a black baseball cap. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he groused, arms crossed. “What, you guys never seen a catgirl before? You seen one, you seen ‘em all. They’re fast and flashy, sure, but at high level? The game plan falls apart. That’s rushdown fighters for ya: all style, no substance.”

Sensing a chance to really wow the onlookers, Nadia rose into a crouch, her smile taunting. “Oh yeah? I bet I could still make your head spin, little man!”

The Gaki sniffed. “Hmph! Come and impress me, then!”

With the crowd’s eyes on her, Nadia got into a ready stance with a smile, wiggling her tail. Then she sprinted forward and leaped into the air. The Gaki lifted his weathered hands in a defensive stance, his body tense. “I’mma block this whack-ass mixup.”

Nadia’s jump arc carried her over his head. Then she released her pressurized blood, airdashing backward over his head again. Then she spiked her head downward, which halted her momentum enough that her head shot behind him. Finally, her neck blasted out blood and shot backward again, hitting the Gaki low. He hit the ground with a surprised yelp, and the onlookers burst into a frenzy of hype, hooting and hollering as they jumped up and down.

”That was cheesy as hell!”

”I ain’t blockin’ that!”

”Well, I got mixed.”

“Nyehehe~!” Nadia stooped to lift up her head, then span it on one finger like a basketball. “What can I say? I’m always one step a-head!”

Thoroughly entertained, the Gaki started a cheer. “Catgirls rule! Catgirls rule!” Even the one she knocked down found it in him to laugh at himself. By that time, the rest of the fighting had come to an end, so the Seethe was officially over. The remaining yokai disappeared back to the spirit world, and the Seekers were left to regroup as the villagers began to clean up.

Nadia looked pretty pleased with herself. “That was fun! Well, one guy called me cheesy, but I had a gouda time.”

Band raised an eyebrow at her, wondering how in the world the feral managed to turn a riot into recreation. “Glad someone’s enjoyin’ herself at least. Anyway, now that’s over with, we better get a move on. The city’s just up ahead.”

Twenty minutes later, the Fields of Gold finally came to an end, the long and winding path through the hills of waving wheatgrass terminating at one of Esaka’s many gates. Its white outer walls extended around its entire perimeter, about two stories high, topped with distinctive steep green roofing tiles despite their lack of interior space. Beyond those walls lay the first of the city’s five tiers. Though the least well-off and the least built-up by far, with few buildings tall enough to peek over the exterior walls, the brief glimpse afforded to the approaching Seekers through the gate suggested that the Low Tier was a far cry from the slums of Midgar; it looked clustered, cheap, and somewhat unclean, but there were no muddy dirt streets or ramshackle junk shacks in sight. About one city block in, the second tier towered above the first. From here nobody could see any of the titular pools that gave the second tier its name, they could see the decorative stone waist-high railing that surrounded it, and a few places where water flowed down into the Low Tier, becoming channels that one could probably cross via traditional arched footbridges. Farther still the newcomers could see the Mid Tier, which resembled a more typical modern Japanese town, and the High Tier, with enough large buildings that it looked like a real city. Above it all loomed the Top Tier, with its tall, imperious towers. If the Guardian was up there somewhere, the Seekers had a lot of climbing to do. For her part, Nadia couldn’t wait to get started.

Of course, the first order of business was to get inside. Though the gate was open, an impressive-looking Aurumaton stood at either side, dutifully watching every person who went in and out. Since there weren’t many travelers, that meant that their ominous gaze rested on the Seekers the moment they arrived, the Aurumatons’ enormous cudgels vaguely threatening as their mechanical bodies vibrated restlessly. They weren’t the only ones around, though; Band also spotted what might be a kindred spirit in the form of a green alligator in an olive detective’s trench coat and a red tie, silently pacing in front of the gates with a phone to his ear, evidently on hold. He noticed the Seekers as they approached, and when Band tipped his hat the reptile gave up on his phone call and pocketed it along with his hands. “Good morning,” he greeted the strangers in an even, slightly nasal tone.

“Good morniiiiing!” Nadia replied cheerfully. “How’s it goin’?”

He shrugged. “Oh, not bad, it’s just…say, you’re coming from the direction of Ashwat Village, hmm? I got a report about a Seethe going on near there, but details are scarce. Don’t suppose you folks saw anything?”

“Took care of it!” Outspoken as ever, Nadia happily jumped at the chance to speak for everyone.

“Oh!” The alligator looked surprised, then relieved. “Well then, that sure is good to hear. The spirits don’t cause trouble often, but when they get going, they can do a lot of damage.” He smiled, which looked a little goofy given his protruding fangs. “Guess I owe you folks one, eh?”

Band stepped forward. “Think nothin’ of it. Though, if you’re offerin’, I guess we could use a little direction. We’re new in town, gonna be here a while. See the sights, join the tournaments, you know. Don’t s’pose you know anyone who’d be willin’ to show us around?”

The team’s new acquaintance straightened up and jabbed a thumb back toward the city. “Well shoot, I wouldn’t mind doing it myself. If the Seethe’s dealt with, I got an hour or two to kill anyway.” He cleared his throat and put a scaly hand on his chest. “Scuse me, where’re my manners. I’m Investigator Azuma, with the Kyanta Dojo. Pleasure to meet you all.”

Nadia scratched her head. “You’re an…oh! Investi-GATOR! I get it!” She gave him the double finger guns with a wink.

“Hm?” Azuma gave her a blank look, then cleared his throat. “Ahem, well, come on in.”

As Band stepped forward, he gave the Aurumatons a wary glance. “You sure these guys don’t mind?”

“Oh, the Gatekeepers? I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Azuma turned and led the way through the gates, his scaly tail trailing behind him. “As I’m sure you’re already aware, this is a city of fighters. The Gatekeepers make sure that the wrong people don’t get in.”

Nadia raised an eyebrow at the menacing machine. “Wrong people?”

At that, one of the Aurumatons spoke in a mechanical grumble. ”Those who do not respect Esaka’s traditions. Who would change things to suit their own purposes.”

”If the fighting community does not gatekeep, the integrity of its dojos and tournaments will be ruined,” the other Aurumaton chimed in, chugging assertively.

Sounds like a good way to slowly die off over time, Nadia thought, but in light of the Aurumatons’ massive cudgels she kept her thoughts to herself. With Azuma in the lead, the Seekers finally stepped into the bustling interior of Esaka, the Tiered City.



Already shivering more than he thought he’d be, Heismay rejoined Edward on the stagecoach with a hop. While he didn’t have high hopes, the strategist did mention seeming something akin to the Pal Spheres before. “Roxas?” Heismay didn’t know who that was. As much as socialization wasn’t his forte, it would be a good idea to find time to talk to all his new allies today, a few minutes apiece. For now, though, he cast his eyes around as the golems lugged the stagecoach eastward. When Edward set his sights on the Snotel, Heismay remained by his side, curious to see just what the strangely-named building would offer them.

Inside the duo found a bespectacled pair of monsters, identical except for their coloration. They seemed friendly enough, but Heismay was happy to let Edward do the talking. Either Clark and Stanley were too nice for their own good, or just very bad salesmen, but they somehow seemed amenable giving away some of their stuff for free. True to his word, Clark even shuffled off to see what else he had to offer. Taken aback, Heismay couldn’t help but wonder just how far they could push this, even before his comrade attempted to address him. “Him…Himsley?” the Eugief grumbled with an incredulous look, as if to ask how in the world Edward got that wrong.

After a moment he cleared his throat, and met Stanley’s inquisitive gaze. Faced with that innocent, oafish expression, Heismay allowed his conscience to get the better of him. “I have to ask…why give us perfectly fine goods for nothing in return?”

Stanley pushed up his glasses. “Why, holiday spirit, of course! We Snowdin folk love giving gifts. And getting them!” He nodded sagely. “Those presents, out under the tree? They’re for whoever needs them. And if you got more than you need, you should leave presents there for others. With business being the way it is, Clark and I end up needy pretty often. Just think of it as us giving back.” He crossed his arms in a very righteous manner. “Plus doing it this way just means saving on wrapping paper!”

As Heismay’s expression softened, Clark returned, followed by the sound of bells. “You said you got a carriage, right? Well, I got good news!” he announced. “Whenever people come to live in Snowdin, they break down their wagons for building material, but we take all the travel stuff they don’t need any more. We’re keeping the griddle ‘cause it makes us flapjacks, but there’s a stew pot, carriage lamps, and this!”

He held up a crude windchime, which he jingled. The sound was festive, and oddly soothing; Heismay couldn’t help but smile. “In that case, we’ll be truly in your debt.”

“Just give us a chunk of whatever goodies you find out there when you get back, and we’re even!” Stanley said. “And tell all your friends: if you’re snowed in in Snowdin, the Snotel’s the place to stay!”

Heismay nodded, and received the wind chime from Clark with gratitude. With their new furnishings in hand, the Seekers returned to the stagecoach to install them.

---

Despite her usual fixation on expedience, Sandalphon waited patiently as Celica considered the options at hand, knowing that she had posed a difficult -and in all honesty, unfair- question. After all, how could the Seekers’ most recent recruit be expected to know the other team members well enough to pick out appropriately colored parkas? Statistically speaking, it was unlikely that she’d managed to commit their appearances to memory yet–or that she even knew who did and did not already have a method of counteracting the Highlands’ chill.

As the seconds ticked by, the archangel considered giving Celica a reminder, or perhaps pulling up pictures of her new allies on light screens for her to see, but before she could her new acquaintance began to speak. With pupils shaped like inverted triangles, Sandalphon listened attentively as Celica replied, outlining her rationale and different perspectives on the matter of form versus function. She even offered a little insight into her homeworld, maybe a little too much, but before her response could be considered long-winded Celica produced an answer that the archangel hadn’t expected: that the Seekers should forego individual colors in favor of unity, both with one another and with the environment.

It took no more than an instant for Sandalphon to recognize the truth of Celica’s recommendation, her pupils flashing exclamation marks as she suddenly realized where her own thought process had fallen short. Her laser-focus on the matter of satisfying her teams’ individuality had prevented her from seeing the bigger picture, and her lack of field experience blinded her to the possibility of camouflage. It made much more sense to opt for any possible tactical advantage, and if the Seekers never found out that the parkas came in any other color to begin with, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. Plus, having everyone in uniform white (herself included) with matching red Focus Sashes promised to satisfy her inner compulsiveness.

When Celica glanced at her to gauge her response, Sandalphon nodded vigorously, her expression one of utmost solemnity. It didn’t take long for the self-conscious psycorruptor to start walking her recommendation back, but by then Sandalphon was already sorting through the parkas to find all the other white ones the team would need. “No need,” she answered Celica’s question, her voice firm. “Your advice was well considered and made complete sense. Excellent work.” For some reason, part of her (probably the nascent human part) felt compelled to explain away her shortsightedness as best she could. “Although I have many years of leadership experience, I have spent very little time in the field, so you pointed out something I had not considered. Such insight was, and will no doubt continue to be, invaluable.”

Once the two ladies collected enough pure-white parkas for the whole team, they paid a visit to Morshu at the front desk and completed the purchase, albeit barely. With only a literal handful of zenny to her name now, Sandalphon waited for Celica to don her new duds, then led her back out through the pandemoniac pawn shop. Just before she reached the door, though, the familiar voice of Geralt resonated through her angelic sigil. Sandalphon paused at the threshold to listen to the Witcher’s report. As expected of a master hunter, he’d been looking into the Seekers’ quarry, and already turned up a possible lead. “Roger that. Thank you.” Her sigil disappeared, and after a glance at Celica to confirm that the girl was ready, she stepped back out into the wintry winds.

The archangel briefly considered what Geralt had said. All things considered, it was very good news. If the Guardian craved the excitement of a real challenge and would aggressively seek out any potential sources of one, the Seekers could definitely use that against him. A magnificent display of destructive power, from as high a vantage point as possible, would probably be the team’s best bet. Her pupils became crosshairs as she scanned the horizons, searching for any possible locations. The Highlands were highly mountainous, with ranges in pretty much every direction she looked, onyx-black against a murky gray horizon. One mountain towered above them all, though, and above it a gargantuan sphere hovered higher still, eerily motionless. “Hmm…”

After a moment, Sandalphon returned her attention to her current situation. Looking up and down the Snowdin’s main street, she spotted a couple other Seekers either already returned or on their way back to where they started. Sectonia was impossible to miss, but after a second she also spotted Geralt as he crunched through the snow from Grillby’s. His call would quickly prove unnecessary, but it did remind her that she’d need to pick the brains of everyone else, who hadn’t been as forthcoming with what they’d learned. It took longer to recognize what was going on at the street’s west end, from which direction a team of golems were slowly but steadily tugging a massive stagecoach through town. Once she saw Edward and Heismay, though, the pieces fell into place. Though Kit, Ace, Roxas, Ganondorf, and Blazermate were nowhere to be found, it was worth getting started with just six people present.

Easily identifiable thanks to her glowing triple halo, Sandalphon waved the overs over. “Here,” she stated, passing out parkas to Geralt, Edward, Sectonia, and Heismay with Celica’s help. Anyone who’d planned to rely on a frost resistance ring would no doubt be especially thankful, since practically speaking, there was a world of difference between elemental ice and ambient temperature. Though simple in appearance, these clothes still conformed themselves to their wearers’ shapes, which was a rare blessing. Most everyone would still need periodic exposure to a fire or other actual heat source to recover lost heat, but for now the parkas would be enough to weather the cold climate.

Sandalphon studied the stagecoach, mentally calculating its inner dimensions. “Quite the find.”

“Indeed.” Looking snug in his little parka, with his huge ears poking out from his hood, Heismay nodded from atop the wagon. “Our only problem is moving it. Tis very heavy, and quite unable to move itself. And as helpful as Edward’s summons may be, they lack the speed to cover the leagues with haste.”

Sandalphon’s pupils became loading rings as she considered the predicament. “Noted.”

After jumping down, Heismay continued. “I inquired with some local Paripus, who I witnessed riding large, deerlike creatures. Evidently more of them can be found in the wild, and they can be tamed with artifacts known as ‘Pal Spheres’, but I know no more than that. Would that Roxas was here.”

Sandalphon looked around at the gathered Seekers. “Any other updates on expedition supplies or equipment? More vitally, have we managed to find out anything else about Baldur or his whereabouts? It would also be worth noting any significant Highlands events or locales you may have heard of.”

After reuniting with an old friend earlier this afternoon, Terry finally went back home. His steps were leisure yet certain, as he drew himself closer to another place he’d considered his home since the establishment of the World of Light. It was an enormous, multi-floored dojo nestled between other more noticeable top-tier dojos in Esaka. As he stood by its entrance, a huge, familiar neon sign welcomed his sight almost immediately, standing proudly atop the dojo’s roof. The emblem consisted of 17 letters spreading from side to side, and it said…

The King of Fighters…

Indeed. The KOF dojo was that place. It was one of the oldest, most prestigious dojos in the city after Street Fighter, Mortal Kombat, and Tekken. Like other top-tier dojos, it gave birth to some of the world’s most exceptional fighters, and Terry was one of them. Sure, he might not be their champion/poster boy anymore, but he was still considered to be—at the very least—their top 10.

As he pushed the front door open, Terry would be welcomed by another familiar sight. It was the spacious hall where the training sessions usually took place. The walls were decked with various decorations, most notably the flags of Japan and the United States, as well as tournament posters and traditional Japanese paintings. In addition, there was a hanged punching bag supported by a stand, perching by the farther corner of the hall. Next to him were the stairs connecting the hall to the second floor where the members of the dojo rested in their respective rooms. The interior was designed after that of the dojo’s predecessor—the Kyokugen Dojo run by the Sakazaki family.

The hall was empty upon Terry’s arrival with only one more person staying to train. He was a younger fighter with curtain-styled brown hair sporting a white headband and a pair of black gloves decked with golden stripes and sun crest emblems. The said fighter was none other than the famed Kyo Kusanagi, an Esaka native and one of the dojo’s golden children.

“Hey, Kyo!” Terry called, a smile on his face. “Man, oh, man… It’s not every day I get to see you training like this. Got motivated to grind or something?”

Kyo paused, but not before landing a smooth jab against the punching bag. “Yeah,” he told Terry, nodding. “My old man forced me to do it. A new tournament is coming in a week, y’know?” He then gave the fellow champion a sidelong gaze, his knuckles still pummeling the bag absentmindedly. “I’m just getting tired of hearing him yapping all day. What about you? Fought another low-tier loser?”

Terry hesitantly nodded, taking a seat on the bench across the punching bag. To call his prior opponent a ‘loser’ felt like an understatement. “Yeah, well… he was a hidden talent, actually. For somebody who came from a smaller dojo, he sure got some power moves to show,” he answered, watching as Kyo continued to deliver blow after blow against the punching bag. He might not be close friends with Kyo, but he did respect him for his talents. “So, you’re training for the next tournament, huh?” he asked back, dropping his duffle bag next to his seat. “Is it the new KOF tournament everybody was talking about?”

“Yeah, what else?” Kyo asked back. A loud knocking noise was created every time his knuckles grazed against the punching bag’s fluffy frame. “Heard it just now, Terry?”

Terry nodded. “An old pal of mine told me,” he elaborated. “Plus, I heard it from some peeps I got to pass by on the way back home.”

“Ah… So, that’s what,” Kyo said, eyes still glued to the punching bag ahead as he delivered a string of fists and kicks. Thinking of spicing things up, the six-time KOF champion spread open one of his clenched fists, a small spark of fire emerging from beneath its gloved palm. Something was triggered—the Advance Mode or sorts—and his entire frame proceeded to be covered in a flashing light. With his hand still holding the fire, Kyo spun around, then delivered a fiery hook against the punching bag.

POW!

“KURAEEE—!!”

A loud hitting noise emerged upon the collision between the fire-laced knuckles and the bag’s fluffy frame. 115 Shiki Dokugami was executed. It was quite a firm strike, but he wasn’t satisfied yet. Subsequently, Kyo swung the alternating fist against the punching bag, a smaller spark of fire erupting.

POW!

Once connected, he quickly followed it up by slamming his back against the punching bag.

SMACK!

Both 401 Shiki Tsumi Yomi and 402 Shiki Batsu Yomi were executed. As a finishing touch, Kyo took a spinning leap, spreading his arm out to deliver a backhanded blow. A trail of fire followed the flailing fist along.

“DORYA!!”

THUMP!

Finally, 100 Shiki Oniyaki was executed. And just like that, Kyo managed to swing the hanging punching bag out of its stand, his feet reaching the floor alongside the toppling bag. Amazed by the showcase of talent and strength, Terry gave Kyo a loud clap, complimenting him.

“Yo, that’s rad!” he exclaimed. “Looks like the fire of Kusanagi’s still burning hot!”

Kyo smirked at the compliment, igniting a small tendril of fire out of his fingertip. “Yeah, I know,” he said confidently, then blew the fire. He snickered. “Moetaro?”

Terry’s smirk spread from ear to ear. That was such a cool sight, he thought. Kyo’s confidence never ceased to amaze him. “You sure did! Bet the training’s been burnin’ you out, alright.” As Terry’s hand reached his duffle bag, he unwrapped its straps, pulling out a can of soda. He tossed the can in Kyo’s direction, with the latter catching it right away. “Here, take a sip!” he told the six-time KOF champion. “You’re gonna need it.”

Kyo rolled his eyes, grinning. He twisted the tab, then opened the soda can. “Yeah, right…” He brought the tip of the can close to his lips, taking a couple of sips just as Terry suggested. “Appreciate that,” he thanked the hat-wearing bruiser, pointing at him.

“No prob!” Terry reciprocated, giving Kyo a two-finger salute. He then pulled his own can of soda out of the duffle bag, twisting the tab open in a loud click. He took a sizable sip, then swallowed, wiping his lips with his wrist. A sigh left. “Better?”

“Better…” Kyo nodded, then leaned his back against the wall next to him, relaxing his muscles. He took another sip, his eyes glancing sidelong at the three-time KOF champion. “So, what’re you up to now, Terry?”

“I dunno…” Terry shrugged, then settled his can of soda next to him. “Think I’m just gonna take a break.” He then grabbed his Neo Geo Pocket Color out of his duffle bag, turning the portable console on. “Wanna play some games, Kyo?” he offered, gesturing at the console in his grasp.

Kyo lightly shook his head. “Nah… Not today. It’s been exhausting,” he answered, then shifted his glance towards the punching bag he’d pushed out of the stand. As it turned out, he’d left its fluffy frame with a lengthy burn mark.

“Ah… okay.” Nodding, Terry shifted his attention back across the console’s screen, his thumbs dancing from one button to another on both sides of the console. Pixelated noises began to fill the hall, as he played Fatal Fury: First Contact vigorously. “Sooo… ready for the tournament?”

Kyo nodded, finishing his can of soda. He squeezed it tightly, the residual liquid bursting out of the opening area. “More than ever,” he answered. “Won’t be me if I’m not ready. What about you, Terry? Are you gonna be there?”

Terry nodded, rocking his Neo Geo Pocket Color left and right as he advanced to the next round. One of his thumbs was quick to hammer the A and B button alternately, as though they were flailing two actual opponents at once. “You bet!” he answered enthusiastically. “Won’t be me if I’m not in, either.”

Kyo snickered, then shook his head, crossing his arms. “I knew you would,” he told Terry. “You never stopped to impress me, Terry. After getting reduced to a sideshow year after year, here you are, still competing like you’re gonna win. If I were you, I would’ve just quit before I started embarrassing myself.”

Those sharp, sarcastic words. They were more than enough to strike Terry right to the core. He couldn’t deny that he’d been putting over a lot of promising upstart talents both inside and outside of the KOF dojo, but to call him a sideshow and an embarrassment? That was a tremendous understatement.

Terry could feel his hands trembling, the console in his hands faltering. Normally, he wouldn’t be so upset about it, but he hadn’t been in the best mood in recent weeks. As he pushed the option button, Terry lowered his Neo Geo Pocket Color, his glaring eyes staring up at Kyo.

“Oh, I’m sorry?” he asked with a frown, his face wry.

“No offense, Terry, but when was the last time you ever won a major tournament?” Kyo asked. He uncrossed his arms and drew his back out of the wall, turning to face the fellow KOF champion. “Just face it, the legend’s long been dead since KOF ’94. All I keep seeing is you and your team jobbing to some newcomers, while only making the cut to the semifinals every once in a blue moon. Makes me wonder why you were always the one they chose to represent the dojo in a lot of collabs when you’re just a washed-up has-been.”

The words that came after only struck Terry even harder. For years, he’d already been used to a great number of people looking down on him, underestimating his strength and talents just because he didn’t always come on top, but this? This had gone a little too far. It wasn’t even to mention that this wasn’t the only time he was scoffed at by the six-time KOF champion. Each day, he’d only felt like he was pushed to the edge. The urge to snap had only grown.

“Oh, wow! That’s a damn fine speech, champ. Thanks for reminding me,” Terry thanked sarcastically, wryly smirking. “I do wish I could go back to being the big deal that I was when I bet the living crap outta Geese and Krauser, but, oh, well… Here I am.” He shrugged, his hands spreading open. “’Least I’ve tried. Not everybody is a chosen one like you, y’know that.”

Kyo snorted, looking away. He placed both of his hands over his hips. “I didn’t win all the time, either, but I sure as hell won more tournaments than almost anybody in the locker room. And that includes you, Terry,” he boasted. “There’s a reason why they called me ‘Mr. KOF.’ I am the face of this dojo. Should’ve been me representing the dojo in all of those collabs, just saying.”

Terry had had enough. His fists clenched and trembled, the Neo Geo Pocket Color that was once in his grasp now dropping across the floor. Although wry, he tried to maintain his smirk, sharply glaring at Kyo. “Fair enough,” he admitted, nodding, “but do you remember where the first KOF tournament took place?”

“What? South Town?” Kyo asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Exactly,” Terry answered, “and who do you think they called ‘South Town Hero,’ huh? Just a clue, he’s one of the original champs.”

“Who, you?” Kyo asked back.

Terry nodded. “Exactly.”

CRASH!

Abruptly, Terry shoved Kyo towards the wall behind him with the latter’s back grazing against the picture of the dojo’s first anniversary ceremony that’d been clinging there for years. He pushed him so firmly against the said decoration that the glass frame containing the picture fractured upon impact. He gripped Kyo by his collar and pinned him against the wall, his fingers squeezing the dark fabric of his jacket tightly. Kyo groaned, visibly startled and puzzled. He squirmed and held onto Terry’s wrist, close to retaliating.

“Y’see, Kyo boy, this is why the KOF dojo is always far behind the big three. Mentality like this is why we’ll never be the number one dojo,” he reprimanded, his voice unusually stern. “Ego runs this place! I swear to God, if I hear anybody says that shit one last time—”

The noise of cracking glass and Terry’s loud, furious voice were enough to summon the entire dojo to the hall. Rushing downstairs, they quickly circled around Terry and Kyo, witnessing how the former had just pinned the latter across the wall. Some remained silent, while some were quick to side with Kyo without knowing who the real culprit was. Insults were thrown, and almost all of them were directed at Terry.

“Hey, Terry! Keep your hands outta Kyo, will ya!?”

“You’re just jealous that you never got the push that Kyo gets, aren’t you?”

“Overrated waste of slot! You’re mid, and all your fights are predictable. A sloppy gaijin like you shouldn’t have been in the high-tier at all.”

“All you have is just catchphrases and some funny accent. What makes you so special in the ring, Terry?”

“You’re just Ken with a hat, Terry. Some lazy copycat. Be original!”

“Sick of seeing you everywhere. Get your ass outta here, Terry!”

It’d always been the same noise—the same insults—since the dojo decided to send him to a couple of collaborations with other dojos in recent times. Terry’s eyes wandered the crowded hall, flabbergasted by the sight but not too surprised. Ever since he was separated from the people who truly knew him, he knew that nearly the entire dojo had always rallied behind Kyo, considering he was the person the dojo chose to be their poster boy. It’d always been his locker room, and Terry had barely any control nor influence over the other fighters. He was just another one of those casual-looking guys that the dojo was known for.

In the midst of scuffling, however, another member came to try and separate both men. He was a blonde-haired man sporting a striking orange karate uniform—torn sleeves and a black undershirt showing underneath the orange gi. The said member was none other than the first KOF champion himself, Ryo Sakazaki, the Invincible Dragon and the second Mr. Karate. As he stood right between Terry and Kyo, Ryo spread his arms, trying to push away the former from the latter before the worst was to happen.

“C’mon, Terry,” he urged, “let the kid go!”

Compared to the other stylish members, Ryo was one of the few traditionalists within the KOF dojo. The oldest successor of the great Takuma Sakazaki, he spent most of his time training outside of the dojo, perfecting the techniques learned from the now defunct Kyokugen Dojo to keep his family’s legacy alive. He might not be around all the time due to his tight training schedule, but when he did, he’d always been the sage that kept the locker room tranquil and sound. Moreover, besides the oldheads, Ryo
was one of the few who always insisted on maintaining a pleasant and serene environment for every fighter involved within the dojo, which means that unnecessary altercations such as this weren’t tolerated. If he had to discipline anybody for this behaviour, he would, without a shadow of a doubt.

As he placed his hands over Terry’s shoulder, Ryo urged him one final time. “Terry, I told you, let the kid go!” he said, his voice raised yet composed. “There’s no use in doing this, my friend.”

After being told by Ryo twice, Terry finally softened, loosening his grip around Kyo’s jacket. Ryo was right, after all. He didn’t gain anything from snapping out in fury. He knew he could’ve been more levelheaded than this, like he normally could. The hat-wearing bruiser took a deep breath. He released his grip, finally leaving Kyo alone but not before giving him a sharp, threatening glare. “Watch your mouth,” he quietly warned, “asshole…”

As he shifted in Terry’s direction, Ryo gave the fellow original champion a sidelong look, perplexed and concerned. Never had he thought in a million years that Terry could ever be so offended by a silly smack talk that he decided to retort violently. “Just calm down and take a deep breath,” he told Terry, patting the latter’s back a little firmly. “Let’s just talk outside, alright?”

Terry didn’t say a thing. He just nodded. Even he was left dumbfounded by his own fury. He’d never been this angry since the first time he confronted Geese. As Ryo suggested, the hat-wearing bruiser let him be his guide, as they walked past the sea of stylish fighters grouping around the hall. Many of them began to boo Terry out of the dojo, as if they were watching a wrestling segment where he assumed the role of a heel.

“Kyo-san—!!”

Then, from upstairs, a squeak caught everybody’s attention. They seemed to recognize the voice, knowing where this was going. The squeak, in fact, came from a highschooler who dressed just like Kyo, albeit with slight modification. Obviously, he was Shingo Yabuki, Kyo’s biggest fanboy.

Rushing down the stairs, Shingo approached Kyo, gently placing his gloved hand over his idol’s shoulder. “Oh my God, Kyo-san! I can’t believe Terry-san just did that to you. Are you okay?” he asked, visibly concerned.

Kyo nodded, barely gnashing his teeth. He rubbed the back of his neck, then steadied himself, his back drawing away from the fractured glass. “Yeah, I’m okay, Shingo. Don’t worry,” he reassured. “That was nothing.”

Not long after, two of Kyo’s steadfast comrades came to the scene. One was a flamboyant man with an exaggerated blonde high flat top, while the other was a gigantic man with miniscule eyes and a hachimaki across his forehead. They were Benimaru Nikaido and Goro Daimon respectively.

“Ohoho… Did he really just do that?” Benimaru joked, trying so hard to stifle his laughter. “Looks like our ‘Mr. KOF’ has just been humbled by some washed-up has-been.”

“Oh, shut up!” Kyo retorted, nearly elbowing Benimaru on the nose. Thankfully, Daimon was fast to step between the two, catching his elbow. “C’mon, you two, this is not funny!” Daimon reprimanded, lowering Kyo’s arm. He sighed, then grunted, crossing his arms together. “Don’t you guys understand? You’re only embarrassing our team with this behavior. Let’s just head back to our room now, should we?”

While the crowd started to resolve from within the dojo’s building, Terry and Ryo were still outside. They sat by the bench near the entrance of the dojo, talking about a lot of stuff revolving around the prior scuffle.

“Is everything alright, Terry?” Ryo asked, turning his face to give Terry a glance. “I’ve started to notice that you’ve kinda changed lately. It’s not like you to be so angry about it. What happened?”

Terry sighed, then lowered his head, his hands firmly clutching the edge of the bench. “I dunno, man…” he answered, shaking his head. “I know that I haven’t been feeling like myself these past few weeks. Like something’s missing, but I dunno what. Or, maybe…” he paused, pensively gazing ahead. “Maybe I’m just tired of both of us being looked down at by a lotta peeps. Just a couple of losses and misfortunes, and they quickly made assumptions about us. Never mind the fact that our teams were the ones who built the house and brought everyone together like glue.”

Ryo sighed and nodded, pensively glancing away. Something about what Terry said hit him right in the feels, as he shared the same sentiment and experiences. If there was anybody in the locker room who could understand what Terry experienced, it was him. “Yeah, I understand you,” he reciprocated, his head raising. “They’ve been treating my team like a laughing stock, especially after my family’s dojo went out of business. They kept telling me that I was just another Shotoclone trying and failing to imitate Ryu. The fact is, I’m not. I am my own thing. Just because somebody practices karate doesn’t mean they’re cheap imitations of Ryu or Ken.”

“Yeah, it’s so unfair that they did you so dirty like that. Did they even know that you were the first guy to win a KOF tournament?” Terry asked, finally looking sideways at Ryo. His clutch across the edge of the bench loosened.

“Not like they even care,” Ryo answered, lowering his head. It didn’t take him long to reciprocate Terry’s gaze, his face wry and darkening.

“Oh, man…” Hearing his response, Terry paused, his eyes pensively moving back ahead. He glued his palms together, then exhaled, closing his eyes. To him, Ryo wasn’t just his main rival—he was the closest he could get to an actual friend in the dojo. But perhaps, it had more to do with them coming from the same city and sharing the same struggles since the World of Light was formed. “Sometimes, I wonder, is it really so hard for them to put a lil’ respect on our names?” he asked, opening his eyes to look at Ryo again. “Like… are we really so bad? Are we really so undeserving to be part of the KOF family?”

“At least, most people outside of the dojo still acknowledge you, my friend,” Ryo answered. “As for myself… What am I? I’m just a mere imitation to those people. A failed product, if you will. Nothing more and nothing less.”

Hearing Ryo’s words, Terry couldn’t help but feel a sense of sympathy. Having fought the original champion throughout the years, he knew that Ryo was worth more than just another Ryu wannabe. After all, we’re talking about the man who defeated the future KOF champion in KOF XIV, and Terry was there to witness the triumph. “Nah, dude… You’re not just some copycat, y’know that. None of us are. We’re unique in our own ways,” he encouraged, patting Ryo by his back. A smile finally spread after the tension. “Heard the new KOF’s around the corner, right? This should be the chance for us to prove ourselves.”

Ryo nodded, feeling uplifted. He reciprocated Terry’s gaze, a smile faintly forming. “Right, this is our chance,” he agreed. “It has to be my team or your team for the gold.”

Terry raised his eyebrows, his face puzzled. “Wait a minute, I thought it was goin’ back to the one-on-one format,” he commented.

Ryo shook his head. “No, my friend. The rules remain the same, and I believe Rugal will be hosting the tournament if the rumors are true,” he elaborated. “Have you formed your team yet?”

“Andy and Joe are gone, don’t y’know that?” Terry answered, his smile faltering. “So, nope. I don’t even know who I should team up with anymore. None of my guys are even around.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ryo said, his voice a hint of sympathy. He paused for a moment. “Well, then. Maybe I should check if there’s still a spot for you to join my team soon. If you need a training partner, you know who to call.” He gently nudged Terry’s shoulder with his knuckles. “I’ll be at the temple near the KOF dojo every morning. Just catch me up there. I’ll be awaiting you, my friend.”

Terry snickered, slightly drawing away in reaction to the nudge. “Yeah, I know. I’ve always had a blast fighting you, y’know that,” he told Ryo, “and… thanks a bunch, though. You’re the man, Ryo.”

“Yosh! A pleasure.”

And so, the two shook hands and returned to the dojo.




The next day…

It was Wednesday morning. Terry had already woken up way earlier than he normally would. Usually, he’d just wake up later during the afternoon, but not today. Today, he felt motivated to start his activities earlier.

As it was any day in a week, the hat-wearing bruiser wandered the streets with a duffle bag over his shoulder, a small bandage spreading over his bruised nose. He scanned his vicinity, keeping himself notified if there were mentions of KOF being made by passing pedestrians. Even after gaining information from two fellow champions, he still felt the need to dig more information surrounding this new KOF tournament he was about to enter, especially in regards to its sponsor. If nothing fruited anything, well… at least he had Richard to go by. He’d always wanted to go to Pao Pao Café 7 again, like the good ol’ days.

The streets were lukewarm at best. Not so crowded, but not actually that quiet. There were still a bunch of people walking left and right past Terry—some asking him for an autograph, while the others minded their own businesses. He could hear a few pedestrians chattering, but none of them actually mentioned the new KOF.

The view remained the same until Terry was close to the northern side of Esaka. There, the streets were more crowded. He could hear a lot more people chattering with one another, but while he strolled past each and everyone of them, the conversations remained the same. Some were talking about trivial everyday stuff, while others were talking about a commotion that took place somewhere nearby Esaka. The latter did spark his interest a bit, but it wasn’t something he was looking for.

After moments had passed without a single mention of the new KOF, Terry finally reached Pao Pao Café 7. He pushed the front door open—once again, stepping into the bronze-hued interior decked with a humongous dragon statue and a concoction of South American and East Asian decorations. The café remained the same as it was yesterday—just a little more crowded with new visitors. The scent of club sandwiches and alcoholic beverages still filled his nostrils, and a music performance was heard playing ‘Haremar Faith Capoeira School’ in the background. The atmosphere was cozy as always, making Terry feel more at home than he was in the KOF dojo.

The hat-wearing bruiser took the same sitting spot that he took yesterday, dropping his duffle bag next to his feet. He took his cap off, his fingers lingering on its red fabric. From across the counter was Richard welcoming him again, shifting in his direction.

“Morning, Terry. I knew you’d be back,” the café owner greeted, a slight smile below his mustache. “How’s your day?”

“Not so bad, actually,” Terry answered, then sighed, the tension from yesterday’s altercation still present, albeit lightly. He gave a half smile in reciprocation. “What about you? Looks like the new outlet’s gaining more attention overnight, huh?”

Richard snickered. “You can say that again, son.” While talking with Terry, he noticed that same gesture he made when they reunited yesterday. He’d been looking a bit burdened and uneasy for the last two days, and he couldn’t help but wonder why. He raised his eyebrows. “Why, it’s not like you to look so unhappy for days,” he added. “Have you eaten anything the whole morning, Terry?”

Terry shook his head lightly, trying to maintain the smile on his face. “Nah, I haven’t, which is why I came straight to your place,” he answered, snickering. Then, a yawn left his mouth. “Think you got a hot dog and a cup of java for breakfast?”

“I can make you some. Just wait.” Turning against his regular customer, Richard prepared the ingredients needed to make a hotdog and a Javanese coffee bean powder to make the beverage Terry had just ordered. He started by preparing the coffee, as it didn’t take a while to make. All he needed to do was pour the dark brownish powder into a small cup and fill the cup with hot water. “Here’s your drink,” he said, placing the cup right in front of Terry.

Terry nodded, then took the cup Richard placed across the counter. It felt warm underneath his fingers. “Well, thanks, Richard,” he said before taking a sip.

“Don’t mention it,” Richard said, as he grilled the sausage needed to make a hotdog. “So, found anything regarding the new KOF I told you about?”

Terry nodded, lowering his cup. “Well, yeah, actually. Some of my pals from the dojo have given me enough info. Now, all I need to know is who the real sponsor should be. Ryo told me it’s gonna be Rugal, instead of Geese.”

“So, it’s Rugal, huh?” Richard asked, slightly glancing at Terry past his shoulder. “Makes more sense, actually. It’s not like Geese has sponsored any KOF since the ones in South Town. Besides, he hasn’t been the highest in the hierarchy for a long time.” He shrugged, finishing the grilling process.

Terry watched, as Richard took the sausage out of the grill and placed it between the sliced bun. He could feel his mouth almost watering at the tasty sight, especially when the mustard and ketchup was poured. His stomach growled a bit harder. “I guess you’re right. Rugal’s one of the Four Kings, anyway,” he agreed.

Richard nodded, then placed a plate of hotdog in front of Terry—just next to where he settled his cup. “Indeed,” he responded, now fully facing his regular customer. He pressed his palms against the edge of the counter, watching as Terry gave the hotdog a bite. The way he looked at him, it was clear that Richard still worried about him. “You sure everything’s been well, Terry?” he asked.

Terry hesitantly nodded, refusing to tell Richard about the altercation he had in the dojo. “Yeah, I’m okay, really,” he reassured, his voice muffled by the chewed hotdog under his mouth.

Richard raised an eyebrow, still unconvinced. “You know you can tell me everything, don’t you? We’ve been friends for years, Terry.”

Terry swallowed. It seemed that Richard might know something was up with him. His own gesture didn’t lie. Clearing his throat, he pensively lowered his gaze, his blue eyes meeting the bitten hotdog in his grip. “Actually, I just got involved in a heated brawl,” he elaborated, his voice lowering. “And before you ask, nope, it’s not what you think it is. It ain’t some random street fights or ranked matches. It actually happened in the KOF dojo during our downtime.”

“Oh?” Richard widened his eyes, his face quizzical. He thought it wasn’t like Terry to be involved in an altercation. The Terry that he knew was a social butterfly. He was the easiest person to get along with just about anybody. How anybody in the world—especially in places like the KOF dojo—had a problem with such a likeable figure was beyond him. “What happened?”

Before he revealed, Terry took another sip of his coffee. He sighed again. “Somebody pissed me off, and I got worked up. I swear to God, I was about to kick his ass right there and then till it caught the entire locker room’s attention.”

Richard gently nodded, attentively giving ear to the whole story. “Well, that doesn’t sound so good. And who might this person be?”

“Welp, I hope you’re not surprised,” Terry revealed. “It’s Kyo. He said something that actually pissed me off while I wasn’t in the best mood.”

“Ah…” Somehow, Richard didn’t seem so surprised the way that Terry had anticipated. The café owner drew his head back, arms crossing and eyebrows arching. “Well, I mean, he could act like a spoiled brat at times. Just don’t mind what he said. He’ll eventually change when he’s older.”

“Yeah, I know. There’s no hard feelings anymore, but…” Terry paused, slightly squeezing the hot dog in his grip. “Damn… I wish I could’ve humbled the guy a lot better. That wasn’t even the first time he mocked me. A part of me was ready to fight him, and I could say the same about Kyo the way he looked at me.” He loosened the grip, gradually calming himself. “Yet somehow, it didn’t happen. We’d gotten separated already.”

“Hmm… I see.” Richard pensively nodded, rubbing his mandible. Having known Kyo’s smack-talking antics, he seemed to understand where Terry came from. Still, it surprised him how his regular customer handled the situation, considering he was usually the last person to ever get offended over anything. “Y’know, at first, it was funny hearing from you just now that a person as positive as yourself could get so worked up. Never thought I’d see the day when the happy-go-lucky Terry Bogard loses patience,” he remarked, then snickered, his voice calming.

Terry wryly grinned. “I don’t even know what’s up with me, either,” he admitted, shrugging. “But then again, what’d you do if you were in my position, Richard? Just listening like an idiot while somebody told you just how worthless you were?”

“If that’s what he really told you, then I can see why you should’ve gotten so worked up. Surely, he might’ve won more tournaments, but we’re talking about the man who’s won KOF thrice. That’s an incredible feat, still,” Richard answered, gesturing at Terry. “So, yes, if I was in your position, I would’ve humbled him, too. Maybe not as harsh as you did.”

“Right?” Terry asked back, his eyebrows arching. “Even you would’ve been so pissed, too, Richard. And that said, I feel like I need something to channel my fury.” Playfully smirking, he bumped his fist against his palm, dropping the partly eaten hotdog in his grasp. “Think you got anybody I can fight on that stage?” he asked, his blue eyes gesturing at the broad stage next to the dragon statue. “Or maybe you, yourself, are in a mood for some fightin’, my pal?”

Richard chuckled, glad to have seen Terry’s mood lightening. “I would, but I’ve been getting older and older. It’s been long since I’ve ever performed on a high level. I wouldn't want to disappoint my opponent,” he admitted. Then, an idea crossed his mind. “Frankly, if you’re looking for some fight, I have a recommendation.”

“Oh? What’s that?” Terry asked, his interest piqued.

“I heard there’s been a commotion going around nearby. It’s in the neighboring city, roughly about twenty minutes from this side of Esaka,” Richard elaborated, his thumb gesturing to his side. “Some of the locals are involved. They’re brawling against a bunch of rioting yokais in case you’re wondering.”

“Yokels? Erm… I mean, yokais?” Just hearing that name gave Terry a sense of familiarity. Like any other residents, Terry was no stranger to yokais. Initially, he didn’t take the tales surrounding those creatures too seriously, believing they were nothing more than a local myth. However, his mind changed when he sighted one himself on one occasion while heading back to the dojo late at night. “So, it is true that there’s been a commotion,” he muttered, gently nodding. “You said some of the locals were involved, right? You know the names?”

Richard shook his head. “Unfortunately, I have no clue who, but what I know is that they used to be regular participants competing in the World Warrior tournaments. Does that ring a bell?”

“World Warrior?” Terry asked back, his pensive eyes wandering above. “That means… it could be related to the Street Fighter dojo, ain’t it?” He shot a gaze back at Richard. Having competed in a World Warrior tournament before, Terry actually knew and befriended a lengthy list of names that came up pretty often when the competition took place. Who knows if he’d meet somebody he knew along the way? “Oh, man… This should be interesting,” he remarked, then quickly finished the hotdog he dropped on the plate. “You said it’s near here, right? Y’know what, I think I’m down for the challenge.”

“Oh, of course, you are, Terry boy,” Richard joked, smirking. “But be careful, I heard dealing with those yokais could be trickier than it looks. They tend to ramble nonstop and distract their opponents. Just a heads-up before you go ahead.”

“Ah, don’t worry about that,” Terry reassured, then took the final sip of his coffee. He settled the cup down, his wrist wiping his lips. “It’s not like I can’t quip back. The smaller types could be a piece of cake if handled right.”

“That, I can’t disagree,” Richard responded, pointing at Terry. “Well, I wish you all the best in your effort, son. Hope it can help you channel those frustrations.”

“Just knowing there’s something to punch already makes me feel better,” Terry answered with a smile, standing out of his seat and bringing his duffle bag over his shoulder. He then reached his pocket with his hand, pulling out a couple of notes. “And thanks for the breakfast,” he told Richard, handing him the right amount of money. “It’s tasty like always.”

“Your welcome,” Richard responded, receiving the notes. “Take care!”

Terry nodded. “Yeah, you too, bud,” he said, pointing a finger gun at Richard as he shifted against him.

While Richard counted each note, Terry drew his steps close to the front door, pushing its glass panel open. His fighting spirit might’ve started to fade, but the will to continue was still there. It was clear that he was still passionate about competing and kicking asses. Knowing yokais, they might not be that much of an obstacle to tackle, especially the smaller ones. Unless the bigger types were involved, this could’ve been a fast, easy fight, especially when done with a group of combatants.

The northern side of Esaka was even more crowded after Terry parted ways with his regular hangout spot. Once again, he eavesdropped on the conversations that took place between pedestrians, his sharp blue eyes observing each and every fellow resident walking closely in his path. From the looks of it, the focus of the conversations had shifted. The commotion wasn’t talked about that much any longer. Instead, they conversed about potential guests heading to Esaka that morning.

“There’s a guest?”

“Yeah, a lot of ’em. I heard they were the ones who fought the yokais nearby. Kicked their candy asses so hard they sent those lil’ demons back to their place. Looks like some of them could be locals.”

“Locals? Some of them ain’t guests, then. They’re just one of us!”

“Oh, yeah? Where are they?”

“Somebody told me they’re coming in this direction. We’ll see…”

Just vaguely giving ear to the conversations left Terry intrigued. If it was true that many of them were fellow residents, he thought he might’ve recognized them—moreover, if it was true that they were the World Warrior alumni Richard told him. Maybe he could’ve been the first resident fortunate enough to welcome them to the Tiered City, aiding them in their battle if the yokais still troubled them. As it turned out, though, he wasn’t actually the first one they came across. As the guests were near, he later discovered that Azuma had welcomed and introduced them to Esaka already.

I got a feeling those guys could be them. Should I check ’em out?

Hesitating briefly, Terry finally made up his mind and approached both the investigator and a group of heroes on his side, still deciding to give them a warm welcome. He cleared his throat, then gave them a big wave. “Yo!” he greeted, his voice loud and enthused. “New visitors?” As he stood close to them, he managed to give the roster of guests an up-close look. His blue eyes wandered from one person to another, seemingly recognizing a few faces—most notably, Captain Falcon, Pit, Sakura, and Juri.

Richard was right. ’Least two of them are World Warriors. I’ve seen those girls somewhere before…

“Hmm…” Terry narrowed his eyes, his fingers lingering pensively below his face. He gave his mandible a gentle rub, gauging the facial expressions the crew would be making as they met. “Welp, looks like you guys ain’t really unfamiliar, after all. Do we know each other?”

FIN.

Edward managed to get even more that he bargained for from Clark and Stanley. He’d assumed that there’d be a haggling stage once they’d found/worked out exactly what they were willing to part with, but in that he’d been very much mistaken. Instead he ended up weighed down by pillows, bedding, towels and little soaps while his pockets didn’t end up even an iota lighter.

Add to that light, a pleasant little trinket, and most importantly as far as Edward was concerned, a way of producing hot food on the go, and they might as well have robbed the place.

”We’d best find some way to fill it” he commented, regarding the pot, reminded by it that they weren't exactly loaded down with rations. Foragable plants and huntable game wouldn’t exactly be common out in the snow, and that was before you got to how things went poof in Galeem’s world.

He really did wonder how the sausage, so to speak, got made.

That would wait for later however, as first they had to renovate their ride using all the gifts they had received.

Lamps were affixed, pot stashed at the back of the wagon where some of the windows on either side could be opened to let the smoke and steam out, and the windchime set by this window so that both driver and passengers could enjoy it.

Their pot wasn’t exactly the most pleasant looking thing, it had to be said, but the warm, pleasant smell, and promise of a hearty meal would likely outweigh the slight discomfort having a demonic face on it would cause.

Pillows and a few blankets were strewn across the benches (away from the pot to prevent any fire hazards), making for much more comfortably padded seating than bare wood. The spare blankets were chained up above to be taken down at the passenger’s leisure for the purpose of snuggling up under.

And two for the driver. Whoever would end up stuck in the cold outside (and he suspected might be him) would need extra protection against the elements after all.

After that he stashed the various toiletries (bog roll included) up above and out of the way, which took up the rest of the time till a few of the seekers found their way back to the center of town.

With his inferno hound squad padding along after him, Edward moved to join them, and was happy to find that winter clothing had indeed been procured, and a set that was baggy enough to fit over his armor too to boot. Naturally, it was going to be rather, well, vulnerable out there outside his armor, but better it being damaged than it and him together. Cold seeping in via gashes in cloth killed more slowly than blood seeping out of gashes in flesh after all.

A hole patching kit would not go amiss as a result, and he mentioned as such as they were all getting dressed.

He also reported that ”The two fellows running the 'Snotel' have kindly provided us with bedding and bathing materials free of charge, as well as an… eccentrically styled stewpot and stand with which we can prepare food” and then suggested that ”Speaking of, if we have not already, we may wish to pool funds and buy more food than we think we need, and fuel to cook it. An army marches on its stomachs after all, and in climates like this, those can quickly run empty”

Once he was done reporting, Edward set about setting up the carriage for (slow) travel.

He dismissed the inferno hound squads, and in their place forged a pair of bronze golem squads, an inferno steed, and an observer drone squad.

The pairs of towering constructs were then lashed to the front of the carriage via the pair of chains, two per chain, their halberd shafts being pushed between the links. They’d be utterly worthless in a fight as a result, but they could tirelessly pull their transport to the ends of the world.

Very. Very. Slowly.

The dislocated nature of the golem’s structure meant that they weren't the best pushers or pullers, even if they did somewhat make up for it with their prodigious size.

”We’re going to need some actual harnesses for these ‘Reindrix‘ beasts should we manage to acquire some. Or rather materials to make them out of, given we’d need them custom set most likely. I’d rather not have to use our bedding as crafting materials” He said as he finished up their temporary setup.

After that he finally divested himself of the two guns he’d been hauling around, neatly slotting the Mag Launcher and Plasma Cutter into holsters on either side of the inferno steed’s rear mounted satchels. The non ammo dependent Smiting Bishop was kept by his side, intended as it was to be used as a mainstay rather than a situation specific weapon.

Finally, the pair of observer drones were set up to hover a bit ahead of the golems, where he’d use their discerning eyes’ to check the terrain before they passed over it. The last thing they wanted was to have the carriage get re-buried in snow after all.

”Transport is prepared” he reported ”I can direct the golems remotely, so we won’t need a driver just yet. When we do, I will see if I can manage. Till then I’ll ride alongside”

He didn’t mount up immediately however, and instead had the inferno steed pad along after him as he had had the pair of hounds. They still had to get everyone together, and to purchase all the little things that they needed to make the trip in (moderate) comfort, after all.

Seeing the other seekers gathering in the middle of town, Sectonia used this as an opportunity to say goodbye and thank Papyrus for his help, pointing out the others she had to talk to. She then made her way over to the other seekers, putting on a different air as she didn't need to gather intel anymore, or well, put on her usual air, as she heard what the others were saying. "Areas of interest you say? I've been asking around town myself and while I gained little information about the guardian, I did gain a lot of info about nearby places of interest, including one which Vulgrim mentioned with an item of great power." Sectonia then explained what she learned from her two major interactions and all the areas nearby town and far away from town. She also mentioned that this area hasn't seen sunlight in quite a long time, although the reason why was unknown. "While the mountain I heard from both my sources and Vulgrim is probably our best bet, I wouldn't be adverse to other points of interest along the way. With how jumbled this world seems to be, you never know when some insanely powerful artifact is just sitting in the middle of nowhere."

When Edward came around to make his report on what he had found, and his recommendations, Sectonia said. "My fire antlers can handle the cooking fuel. They have mastery over fire magic and I can summon as many of them as we need." Speaking of, since Cecila and Sandy had come back with warm parkas, one of which did fit Sectonia pretty well, she gave Edward his Ring of Frost Resistance back as this would be suitable to keeping her warm alongside her red antlers and her own flame breath. She would've preferred to keep it but, a deal was a deal. She wouldn't be adverse to the food though, although knowing what a military man like Edward might consider food, she wasn't looking forward to what he brought.

Blazermate meanwhile was healing Ramattra, watching what he did to all of these zombie robots. He seemed to be a brawler form the looks of things, which suited Blazermate just fine as he took and had his overheal healed up over and over, giving her charge and her projectile shield, the latter which she used once she got it. Using a combo move of her Disseminate and flying down to slam the wide energy shield into the zombie robots. As the robots got touched by the intense energy shield, they began to slow down and spark as the shield did its work with the Disseminate target dealing bonus damage to those around it. With all the damage going out, the bots eventually disintegrated from the shield when their hp ran out, no way of them putting themselves back together once this happens! With the wide coverage of the shield, Blazermate was able to disintegrate or damage a vast majority of these things until the shield went down. All she had to do now was watch Ramattra take out the stragglers. Those outside the mansion could see the bright electric blue of blazermate's shield as it disintegrated some of the zombie robots if they were looking in that direction.

Amaterasu casually cut her way through the lesser Yokai, while keeping an eye on the bigger fights to see if she needed to intervene. As it turned out though, these seekers could more than handle their own, it seemed, and so her only involvement with them was using her brush to repair damage done to the village. The damaged post was mended right back up, the damage to the road that the Rhinoggin caused while shoveling up dirt to cast rockslides was patch up, and so on.

To an extent, her main contribution to the whole event was afterwards, as she kept painting away, fixing things up. It was a mostly unseen kind of aid, and rather hard to spot even after the bombastic action was all over, and so she was a little more deliberate with her last act. Said act was to pad over the smashed up cart when its owner came to see what could be salvaged of it, physically shove it back onto its wheels, before giving it a restorative paint job so that by the time it was upright it was right as rain once again.

If there were going to be other people helping out around, then she’d need to do better at being visibly the cause of her own aid. That certainly worked this time, as the cart owner gave her a bow of thanks, and she gladly accepted the accompanying praise.

Compare and contrast this with the generally unhelpful koopa kids, who hopped down from the porch they’d been sitting on only after all the fighting was done, leaving the wasted pokeball laying in the dirt for someone else to tidy up.

”Eh, don’t worry, we made those other ones. Plus those guys were lame anyway. What you want is like, more robots n cyborgs to go with your drones n whale away” Jr was telling his in a huff sister, before he raised up his staff and cast ”Medica!”, causing a circular burst of holy healing light to sweep across all of the seekers who’d been fighting, patching up any and all wounds they’d received.

”I guess. But it's not like those are just, like, walking round in fields like pokemon and stuff are” she complained

”Didn’t Blazermate say people used medabots to fight for em? Maybe that’d work” jr suggested, but it wasn’t really much of a solution given they’d no idea where they’d ever find any more like her.

They talked about it on and off for the twenty minute walk to their destination, while occasionally glancing at the wolf that had taken it upon herself to make sure they didn’t cause any more trouble till they reached town (something both found very annoying).

Still, as they got closer, all of their focus moved away from each other, and towards taking in their destination.

”Kinda top heavy with all the tall stuff up top. I guess they don’t want anyone on a lower floor peeking in?” Jr guessed, while Rika suggested that ”I could just wall hop us up probably” which was an idea Jr gave her props for for sure.

Amaterasu meanwhile rolled her eyes. There was simply no way they didn’t have ways to keep track of who should be where, be it Yokai making a fuss, or the actual authorities. The first sign of the city’s way of policing the piles of fighters in it certainly made an impression that they did indeed have a way to enforce things, as it consisted of the two titanic cudgel wielding constructs.

Any notion that they might put an end to the kid’s scheming about how to subvert the rules was quickly squashed as they started muttering about machines used by ‘Those Who Slither in the Dark’ to which these guardians supposedly paled in comparison, and how they could totally take them.

Possibly the only one able to pick up on this thanks to her canine senses, she decided to bluntly interject by padding close and giving them two barks.

”Hey, what is your problem Snowball?” Jr barked back, having been armed with the perfect mocking nickname for the irritating intervening goddess, while his sister remembered the rules of communication Pit had brought up, and asked ”No what?”

The divine wolf simply turned away, and pad towards the entrance while the kids proceeded to complain about her behind her back. Which was fine. It meant they were not running the risk of being overheard scheming by someone who’d bite rather than bark upon hearing it.

Such as, say, the automatons themselves, who proved themselves to be entirely capable of thinking, even if their comments made them clear to be pretty close minded in her opinion. Were they intending to simply bludgeon someone who broke the city’s unspoken rules? That didn’t bode well.

They could at least post a poster with expected etiquette outside.

She, at least, passed whatever criteria they had for the moment, or maybe they didn’t even analyze her given they couldn't see what she truly was, and promptly padded past them and into the city.

She spared the red hatted muscle bound man who greeted them a glance, but when it was clear he was focusing rather clearly on a specific subset she left him and then took it, and instead took in the city.

It certainly seemed to be a lot more mercantile than any she’d been in. Stores and stores galore. Then again with ghosts tossing money around to good fighters, then there was presumably a lot of money to be made by merchants, hence why their milkmaid had rode her way all the way here.

Not everyone was so fortunate however, because in a competitive environment, there were going to be losers as well as winners, and unfortunately a love of the game didn’t fill a stomach.

For the for D-listers and below, there was Homie Stock, which was a charity that ran soup kitchens for the needy. This being a city of fighters however, the needy weren't exactly meek, and so the line for soup played host to monsters like animated taffy and a burly snowman as well as menacing exacutioners, criminals and psycho clowns.

Self declared girl genius and unicycle footed metal head weren't exactly bringing up the respectability levels, even if they were mostly just rebellious rather than straight up monstrous.

Holding down the fort of civility then where a russian noble turned acrobat, a japanese college student in traditional dress college student and a regular human man

Them, and, of course, the legendary fighter Jun Kazama (who’s reputation preceded her via the whispers of several starry eyed yokai hanging around) who was currently serving soup. The sight of her bopping a trouble-causing killer clown on the head with a ladle in a perfectly smooth and fluid motion that harmlessly knocked him out in a single blow then promptly confirmed it.

Amaterasu had paused to take in this sight, and had been considering intervening for all of a heartbeat before the woman had perfectly resolved the situation without bloodshed even with the malus of Galeem’s influence making all fights fight to the finish. Needless to say, she was impressed.

Behind her, the watching Yokai cheered or groaned, before a spiritual currency called ergo exchanged hands, some of the watchers having apparently been betting in between themselves on the outcome of the ‘fight’. Not if any of the D-listers could take down Jun, mind, but instead which would be foolish enough to earn her ire today.

They were naturally next to earn it because of this, though the top fighter kept her next blow aimed squarely at embarrassing them as she called over “If you have money to spare, we’re always taking donations” even as she got back to work on her soup serving.

Amaterasu cocked her head at this, and then glanced over at the attached store, which as it turned out was a charity shop that was currently accepting donations in the form both of actual cash as well as items to sell. The wares on display weren't exactly the kind flying off the shelves, and were more the result of people using the store as a dumping ground for unwanted goods that they'd have otherwise thrown away.

Which just would not do.

The divine wolf had intended to sell the treasures she’d acquired from the mansion, but this was a far more practical way of doing the charity she’d intended to do with the earnings of those. As such, she strolled to the side of the soup kitchen, and then raised up on her hind legs and front paw pushed down the handle of the shop’s front door to let herself inside.

Unfortunately for her, a wolf/dog letting itself into an establishment wasn’t exactly normal.

A balled and mustached mii fighter behind the counter called Matt going by his name tag gave a careful “hello?” of greeting, and then frowned as she looked up at him but did not respond (because, of course, she could not do so).

“Hmm, where’s your owner then?” he asked, assuming that she wasn’t a person based on her lack of response, before noting her bristling in response to this, and then glancing up at the snickering Yokai (who could see what she was unlike Matt) following the wolf into the store. Making an incorrect judgment, he told them “No funny business, you hear? I don’t care how you got this wolf in here, take it away or I’ll make it leave” while casually reaching for a training sword set behind the counter.

The divine wolf glanced back at the floating yokai, growling at them, which didn’t exactly help her cause, but fortunately someone who did was Jun Kazama, who stepped inside a moment later.

All eyes fell on her, as her own fell on Amataratsu, and she noted in an instant that “You're no normal wolf, are you?” and then instantly cottoned onto the answer of ‘no’ that was evident in the divine wolf’s body language.

“Well then, what can we help you with, ms. wolf?” she asked, to which the wolf responded that she wished to help her instead, before finding a somewhat empty space in the charity shop, and depositing an entire grandfather clock, a black-and-gold vase and an artful painting of a blue skull onto it.

“Oh. For us? Are you donating these?”Jun asked, and when the wolf’s stance on the matter was agreed, double checked “are you quite sure?” as “Those look quite expensive” to which the wolf once again indicated her agreement

“Then you have my refund thanks for your generosity” She said with a hand clasped bow, before adding “if there is any small way I can help you, please, just let me know”

“Yeah, thank you, and sorry for misjudging you, Ms. Wolf” Matt added on to the end of this, having put his sword away as soon as Jun took over the situation, before saying to her “and sorry I almost let that get out of hand, Ms. Kazama”.

“Quite alright. Most people are not as in-tune with nature as I am as to be able to recognize that Ms. Wolf is not as she seems” she replied, before thinking for a moment and striding over to the counter. There she took a pen and a piece of paper, before quickly writing something down and then presenting it to Amatarasu.

“A letter of recommendation. My name won’t take you everywhere, but it should go far enough down here” she said, before apologizing that “I’m sorry that I couldn’t add your name to it, I imagine it must be frustrating to not be able to give it, but I’ve left a big space if you would like to try adding it yourself?”

The divine wolf blinked in surprise once, and then carefully took the letter in her jaw, being careful to avoid slobbering on it. She did so while twisting her head, such that when she tilted it upright again the letter was facing Jun. Then the world pause, her brush danced, and her name was signed in the space that she had been left to fill

“Amaterasu?” Jun said with a gasp, even as the paper vanished into the divine wolf’s inventory.

Assuming that it was simply amazement at the way she’d written her name down in a flash, Amaterasu simply expressed her gratitude for this gift, and then moved to leave, intending to seek out a dojo and to use her newfound person-hood proving papers to gain entry much more easily.

It was only after she’d gone, and Matt was expressing bewilderment at the whole affair, that Jun quietly informed him that “I believe we may just have just received a gift from a goddess”

---

Compared to the charitable Amatarasu, the pair of koopa kids spared not a second thought for the needy, and were instead too busy looking at all the neat stores in town, meandering their way through the crowds, looking at this and that.

As they where doing so Rika briefly slowed in her steps as they went, staring in confusion at a flotilla of Shipshape Sailors yokai who where trailing in the wake of a pair of flashy looking Admirable Admiral who they were begging for betting tips.

The boat boys in turn noticed her after a few moments, and the boat girl was not ready for them to start excitedly commenting about her by saying things like “Wow. Look at that new fighter! She’s got style!” “10/10 design!” “Finally, someone gets what the fans really want” nor one of them shouting “Hey miss, when’s your first match!” or another to add “I’ll put all my ergo on you winning!” over at her.

Feeling incredibly uncomfortable about this, Rika yelled ”Never! Sorry! Going!” back before hurrying to catch up with her brother, leaving sounds of disappointment and calls of “but you gotta!” in her wake.

Said calls were silenced as the pair of admirals put their feet down and started barking admonishments at them, only to then get into a shouting match of their own as their angles of berating, namely “Your scaring off the new talent you witless hullscrapers! That’s where the biggest winnings are to be made” and “Shut it you bunch of loyalty-less trend chasers! Stick to your guns if you want to win bets!” came at things from completely different angles.

”You got fans already?” Jr commented with clear envy when his sister caught up, envy which she did not at all get.

”that was so weird” she told him, before then realizing ”wait if we did fight there’d be more of that?”

”Huh? Oh yeah, loads. Crowds screaming your name and cheering you on, wanting you to write your name on their stuff, showering you with money, that kinda thing”

”Oh” Rika replied, before pausing for a moment and then saying that ”Then I’m glad we’re going to Shinjuku instead”

”I mean yeah. But then we’re coming back” Jr pointed out, and then after seeing his sisters reaction to this adding ”Buuut fine, yeah, we can skip the tournament stuff and just piggyback off of Sakura or whoever’s big wins” a little reluctantly, the little prince not really getting her aversion to all that attention.

”But let’s check this place out a bit first, yeah? Especially that” he said, pointing over at a store named ‘Clean Hits’ and saying that ”Bet if anywhere knows about the tape scene over in Shinjuku it’ll be them”

”Why’s that?”

”Coz you can use tapes to play music?”

”Wait really?” Rika replied, surprised because this had somehow never come up before, before thinking for a moment and saying ”we should get some” to which her brother shrugged and then tacitly agreed before they headed off.

On their way there however, they got distracted by a shop called the Blast Zone, and specifically by a diorama of four action figures set up in the window of that toy store. As they watched a shirtless scarred brawler performed a taunt dance to ward off a scythe totting dark knight, who then turned and stomp walked across the windowsill. On his way to the other side he walked under a flash kicking fighter with an absurd flat top hairdo (who then bounced off of the first fighter who'd done a synced up jet uppercut), before being turned back back around by a short slash delivered by a red coated and strange chunky sword wielding warrior and stomping right back.

”Soooo cooooool” Jr, face pressed to the glass, said as he marveled at the tiny figures, before groaning loudly upon seeing the extortionate price tags.

Rika mainly thought these were ”neat” while also wondering if they made little fighting robots that she could use to beat up pokemon with.

After Jr dragged himself away from the display, they reached the music store, and pushed their way inside.

They’d seen a few Mokujin running the stores in town as they passed them by, and this one seemed to be operating under mostly the same deal, though the figure behind the counter did seem to be a bit closer to a wooden man than the other training dummies.

“Welcome to Clean Hits” the man of wood greeted them in a very synthetic sounding voice, before asking “Can I interest you in some high quality rips?”

Jr responded to this by marching up to the counter (that he was too short to see over) and demanding ”I wanna know what you know about Shinjuku. And tapes. And using tapes to turn into monsters!” while his sister meanwhile headed over more slowly as she looked around the room, before replying ”Are ‘rips’ tapes? If so yes”

@Lugubrious @Yankee @Terry Bogard

Harry Dubois

𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝒦𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾

Word Count: 1562
Level: Lv: 6 EXP: (3/60)
Location: Forbidden Kingdom - Fields of Gold

Harry wildly swung his prybar, hoping to hit one of the yokai. Even though he thought he wouldn’t deal much damage, he could cause some damage. Each time he raised the prybar over his head, his hands shook violently. It seemed the withdrawal was starting to set in. But his aim was true as he swung it down on the caterpillar. The tool was swung into the creature's flesh, helping Pit grab it. “Nice one kid.” There wasn't much he could do but watch Pit trash the rude little punk. Cheering him on as he seemed to have gotten the upper hand against it.

Harry looked in disgust as the centipede countered attack with a toxic spit. He was reminded of his many drunken nights and what would happen if he had too many drinks. Although he thought something like that could be helpful in combat. And his “spit” would probably be more toxic than the centipede’s. He turned his attention to the others who seemed to be gathering around them. Now things were going to get very interesting. The detective turned to face them with a big smile on his face. His hand tightened the grip on his prybar.

“RIP AND TEAR UNTIL IT IS DONE!” His Physical Instrument said. Harry could feel the adrenaline pumping. His heart was racing so quickly that he was afraid it would pop. No matter that Harry was now ready for a fight. Most of them seemed hesitant to fight. But Harry wanted to shed some blood. He stepped forward with a menacing look on his face. A yokai approached him. It was some sort of umbrella with arms, a single leg, a singular eye, and a large maw.

“Bring it on.” Harry muttered with a grin on his face. Avoiding the Kasa-obake, who was trying to kick him. Harry took the kick to the stomach, making him reel back and drop his things.“Tsk, that's all you got? My grandmother could hit better.” This taunt enraged the Kasa-obake, who was charging towards him. Harry charged as well, not being afraid of the creature. He dodged one of its punches but did not see the other fist coming at him. The punch connected with Harry's jaw and cheek, making him groan in pain. “Heh my turn.” He said with a grin, wiping some blood from the side of his mouth. In retaliation, Harry stomped on its foot as hard as possible and poked its eye with two fingers. Following up on this attack by punching it as hard as he could. Sending the yokai flying backwards and would be out for the count.

Harry raised his arms out, feeling victorious. “You have the right to remain silent!” Harry blurted out before doing a victory dance.. However, the time for celebration was premature as a Kappa was trying to attack him from behind.

“Look out, behind you.” His Inland Empire said as Harry turned around on the ball of his heel. However, he was not quick enough as the front of his clothes were torn from the surprise attack. Harry retorted by giving the Kappa a swift kick to the stomach before grabbing him and taking him to suplex city. Delivering the devastating move to the creature, which would put it out of the fight.

Harry picked up his things and wiped some sweat from his sleeved jacket. “Man I’m beat.” He said while breathing heavily. Harry picked up his prybar and plastic bag. He hoped he could buy a backpack of some kind so his hands would be free. And perhaps he could get a good, stiff drink.

His eyes noticed the anthropomorphic alligator approaching them. The first thing he thought was how cool the gator’s clothes were. “Hello. I am Detective Harry Duboi with the RCM. It’s always nice to meet another detective.” The man smiled, extending his hand for the gator to shake. And after his hand was shaken, Harry rested his arm to the side. Following the others into the city, taking in the pleasures of the sight of the city. Being reminded of Revachol, and like his old city, he would have to be on his toes. There could be other ruffians around wanting to fight the seekers.

While walking with the others, he was stumbling a little, feeling extremely tired from the fight before. “So, Azuma, do you know if this place has a bar? I got a mighty strong thirst. And is there a general store or something, i need to buy some supplies.” A sudden cold breeze hit his body. The feeling was bone chilling, even though the weather was mild. It was another symptom of alcohol withdrawal. But he was focused on the new person who had come over to introduce themself. This one was a man with long blonde hair tied into a ponytail. He was quite buff, and Harry frowned, jealous of this man’s muscular physique. Harry assumed he was some sort of lone wolf of some kind. And if that were the cause, he would feel some kinship with him.

But he seemed distracted, seeing someone walking towards them. Harry squinted his eyes, feeling like he had seen this person before. Racking his brain, wondering where he had seen this man. And then it hit him. He ran over toward the man, getting a better look at him. The man was a bit shorter than him, with a lanky build, an orange bomber jacket, and oval-shaped glasses. The man was of asian descent and had a cigarette in his mouth. “KIM!!!” Harry yelled, getting the man's attention, who looked up at him confused. The man stood there wondering why an alcoholic hobo was running towards him. And how they knew his name. But he got a better view of Harry's ugly tie around his neck, and something seemed to click in his head.

“Harry?” The spectacled man said, confused, wondering if he had been dreaming ever since he arrived in the city. In the few weeks he had been here, he solved various cases with Azuma. Slowly trying to figure out why he was here and if he was the only one in Revachol alive. Now it seemed to him that his partner had miraculously survived. Kim was shaken seeing Harry but being hugged by the smelly detective. The cigarette fell out of his mouth, and he felt embarrassed, as he was being hugged in public.

“I’m glad you're alive. I thought I lost ya.” Harry said before letting go of Harry. Kim coughed loudly while adjusting his glasses. His face was bright red from embarrassment.

“It is nice to see you as well, detective. I thought that mercenary had killed me, and this place was some sort of hallucination as I bled out. But I have a feeling that is not the case. So, can you tell me what is going on?” He said before craning his head to the side, noticing his current partner speaking to some new faces.

“Mmm, I know a little bit of what’s happening, but Band can give you the lowdown on what’s happening.” Harry said and led Kim to the others. “Hi, sorry about wandering off, but I just found my partner. This is Kim Kitsuragi, one of the best detectives in the RCM.” Harry said, making a big show of waving his arms and hands near Kim. Who was quite embarrassed by his partner’s little show.

“It is very nice to meet you.” Kim said softly while again adjusting his glasses. “Before I forget, you forgot something, and I wanted to return it to you.” Kim turned to Harry and handed him a dirty looking ledge and a green pen with an ape holding onto the top of it. Harry thanked him before putting the items away. Kim spoke again, addressing Band. “My partner told me you would be able to give me the "lowdown" on why I am here.”

Taking a parka from Sandalphon, Geralt thanked the archangel with a wordless nod, he stepped back to let the others add their pieces. The white overcoat fit snugly, and kept him a good bit warmer than his armor did, thankfully. Having them all wear color-appropriate coats for the weather was also a good idea, though Geralt was blissfully unaware that it hadn’t been Sandalphon’s.

The matter of the wagon would be a bit more of a pain, though Geralt was none too surprised when he went unmentioned when it came to taming critters from strange worlds. Pulling out Tirn’s great ball, he offered a look of it to Heismay. “Roxas would know better, but if it’s anything like this, I have a few of my own. Though, now that you mention it…Sandalphon, didn’t Zenkichi buy an overly-furry fox with one of those things in the Everdream Valley? Could swear I overhead him and his daughter talking about it once. She tried to let it out in the cafeteria and Bracket came running over yelling so much I almost felt bad for the kid.”

Letting out a huff of laughter at the memory, he turned his attention back to Heismay. “If these won’t work, suppose we can look around to find a few Pal Spheres. Generic enough name like Poke Ball, though, might need to find somebody with experience so they don’t misunderstand us.”

Edward’s haul was much appreciated, and though Geralt lacked a sewing kit, if push came to shove he had experience in patching clothes and blankets from Kaer Morhen that he could use if they acquired one. “Awfully generous of them.” He muttered, a little suspiciously. Though, in a town in a harsh environment like this, they simply might’ve wanted to avoid seeing travellers freeze to death in the snow.

“As for food, I’m inclined to agree. Better to be weighed down by extra than to be without and starve.” He’d done enough of that for even his unnaturally-long lifespan on the Maw, thank you.

After Sectonia gave her report, Geralt added his own for the others to hear. “Already gave Sandalphon a heads-up, but apparently Baldur is obsessed with finding a ‘worthy challenge’ and will attack anybody who he feels will put up a good enough fight. All we have to do is make enough of a scene for him to see, preferably as big and bright as possible, and he’ll come to us. We can afford to choose our own arena this time, it seems, so we’ll need to think carefully on where we want that to be.”

Finished with his report, Geralt approached the massive carriage that Edward and Heismay had brought back, looking it over. “Hell of a haul you managed to pull.” He said, regarding the pair. “The golems do the heavy lifting, I assume?” He had to admit to a bit of curiosity about Edward’s magic, perhaps moreso about the similarities and differences it would have from what the wizards of his world could do.

Seeing the 'guardians' at the entrance to Eseka as he got in reminded Roland of a much less extreme version of what he was used to, something he has been trying to get used to. Much like before, as it seemed some of the seekers were noticed as 'fighters' in this city by some of its citizens, Roland decided to go and grab some information to learn how this city worked and how they'd go about finding the Guardian.

Being inside the city itself, things were easier to find here. Much like he thought, fighting was the way to go up in the social standing here. Although HOW people went up the standing was a bit more nuanced than he thought it'd be. While winning a tournament was the best way to go up the tiers, as long as you made the top 24 of a tournament you'd have some upward mobility with top 8 being a bigger jump after that, and winning being a huge bump.

Then there were tournaments sponsored by the four kings of the city, those being Bison, Rugal, Shao Khan, and Heihachi. Some had slightly different rules than the standard tournament, with Shao Khan's being the most popular, but the lowest fighter participation tournament type. Speaking of fighting and tournaments, it seems the matches would end when someone was in a critical state instead of being fully defeated. However there were the occasional deaths, with the winner owning the losers spirit. In the case of any tournament run by Shao Khan though, all matches were supposed to be to the death with massive penalties for showing mercy. Although his tournaments gave massive rewards to compensate for such a risk.

Although one couldn't make a living in this city as a fighter alone unless they constantly placed well enough to be in the top tier of the city and could run their own dojo and many of the lower tiered fighters had to work day jobs from what Roland could see. Even so, the amenities here were better than what midgar had for the lower tiers, but worse than the tip top of midgar. Things were a lore more... close together in the class divide which made sense since there was always upward motion available.

When looking at the dojos, he saw some names that seemed to be big such as Zangief, Leos, Ermac, Annie, girl of the stars, and a few others. While not directly owning a dojo, Zengief and Ken seemingly co owning a dojo alongside a few others named the World Warriors with other dojos having names such as NMO, Guilty Gear, Shaolin, and the like. All together this place gave Roland the feeling that this place was run by the Middle, a bunch of martial artists beating people up, something he was all too familiar dealing with. But some fighters also specialize in weaponry, which was something Roland was hoping he'd see as he wasn't an unarmed fighter like some of the others. Granted a hat that turned into a buzzsaw that you threw or a mop were kind of impractical.

After gathering his info, Roland made his way back to the seekers who hadn't split up to explore the town yet and informed them on all of this. "Seems to be a varied mix of fighters. From creatures to ninjas to buff men to idols. Honestly that last one confuses me unless they have K corp like healing facilities here. All fighting styles seem to be allowed, just be wary of any tournaments sponsored by Shao Khan unless your really confident as only fighters confident enough to risk their lives for glory are going to be there."

Ace didn't know how 'populated' the manor Kit mentioned was, but as it turned out the population of this one was dwindling pretty quickly. When they'd pushed open the door and were greeted with the harsh noises of smashing, scraping, screeching, and metal on metal, the Cadet was quick to go deeper in and see what was going on. It didn't sound like machinery operating, but instead like a battle was going on. A battle that involved a whole lot of metallic somethings. When the familiar blue light of Blazermate's shield abilities shined through holes in the walls, a fight was all but confirmed.

The hunter expected the sounds to get louder as he got closer, but they actually grew fewer at a steady rate until he came upon the source: Blazermate of course, and another person, along with a handful of hostile robots... and a few of the pieces of the defeated, which were still intent on attacking them. Though Ace had no idea what had triggered this fight, he didn't hesitate to jump in to lend a hand. With a thought to seek out a nice impact type weapon for that good blunt damage in the future, the Cadet drew his sword and shield and made a beeline for the nearest zombot. En masse the robots might have been a problem, but since most of them had already been made into scrap metal the remaining few had no chance, especially now that reinforcements had arrived. Ace slammed his shield into a steel cranium, sending the robot's head spinning as he searched it for a weak spot. Since they could still move when decapitated and de-limbed, they had to have some kind of power source that had to be targeted instead - or, as Blazermate was doing, grinding them into small chunks worked. The Cadet couldn't quite do that with just the Master Bang though, so targeting the power source it was.

The glowing circles on their chests were pretty likely to be it, so Ace drove his blade into it. The zombot twitched and stuttered before dropping, and though its limbs continued to make minute movements akin to the final firing of nerves, it was no where close to the severed arms clawing their way over the ground. While the others took down the final zombots, the Cadet made sure those that had already fallen definitely wouldn't be getting back up by smashing their cores.

It hadn't ended up taking very long at all.

"Wow," the Cadet started once it was over, stowing his weapon and looking around at the mess of metal and busted up fixtures in the rundown manor. "Everything from the house to the residents have been decommissioned, huh?"

He grinned at Blazermate after the lame attempt at a joke. Then he looked at the stranger they'd been fighting together with. He was humanoid, but also very obviously a robot too. Ace wondered if he'd been here whenever Blazermate had arrived - maybe this manor was actually some kind of science lab...? And speaking of the manor, it might have made a decent base of operations if a lot of the floors and walls hadn't been ripped to shreds. The house still had decent bones despite the heavy draft, so maybe it was usable? It certainly wasn't fit for royalty or anything, but it was better than the abandoned mine. Actually, maybe we should look into that hotel after all...

Shaking the thought from his head, Ace approached the two robots still standing. "Another new friend?" he asked of Blazermate while holding a hand out towards the taller of the two for a handshake if they accepted.

"I'm Ace," he said simply as an introduction, followed by, "uh, sorry your place got wrecked, if it is your place."

To be fair though, it had definitely already been pretty rough looking.

Ace then looked back to Blazermate, pulling at the straps of his square pack. "Kit and I got a bunch of stuff for all of us, we were gonna check out this area before heading back but since you got to it first - what do you think? ...minus the robots rusting in peace."

As in, would it fly for a temporary base of operations, and especially if her new acquaintance already claimed it would he be willing to let them use it if so?

"Uh... I guess... I mean I haven't checked out the mansion itself since we got attacked by the robots. So I don't know if its a good spot or not? But maybe the others could take a look? It's a mansion so maybe the more picky members will like it?"

Fair enough. Ace nodded, then motioned with his head back towards the door. "Let's go meet up with them and let 'em know then."

The Cadet threw a friendly enough smile at the omnic, clearly not excluding him. He led the way back out of the manor back into the crisp cold outdoors. Since Snowdin wasn't all that far away, the lights and the tall tree at the center of town could easily be seen from up on the hill as they were. They could also see a massive carriage made of dark steel parked there too, as tall as some of the buildings if not taller. It definitely hadn't been there when the Seekers had first arrived. Ace pointed it out and then set a brisk pace back - either there were more newcomers to town that had shown up right after them, or the others had already found their mode of transport around the region!

Descending the dead pine hill and making their way back to the rest of the White Team didn't take long all things considered. When they did reunite with the others, the Ace Cadet was glad to see that the stagecoach ended up being the second option. It was truly huge, probably big enough to fit the whole team into, so it was a nice find. Now they only had to find something powerful enough to pull it. Even though it was on wheels, the fact it was made of metal made it look really, really heavy - and it'd also have the whole crew and all their equipment inside too. Forget a popo, they'd probably need a gammoth. Or a whole team of draft animals.

As Sandalphon, Edward, Geralt and Sectonia repeated their findings and filled the recently arrived Seekers in on what they'd learned, the Cadet committed the information to memory. And took a parka when offered to him, finding it kind of funny that it just covered up the big coat he was already wearing, basically turning it from dark material to white. Ultimately he chose to forego the white, since the stagecoach wasn't exactly stealthy in the first place. If a fight came up, might as well leave the camouflage to others and draw danger away from them. When the issue of moving said stagecoach came back up, Ace blinked in mild surprise.

"I actually got some of those. The pal spheres," he said. He flipped his bag around and dug through it before producing one of the blue crystal balls. "Talk about a lucky coincidence, I almost didn't bother buying them."

He also let them know what the mysterious marketeer had said, that they were made from energy crystals. Now that the Cadet got an even closer look at them, their design seemed... fairly simple. If they found an energy source similar enough to paldium, he or any other crafty Seeker could probably make more basic pal spheres if they ended up needing them.

"We also got a lot of equipment, hopefully covered everything we need. Torches, lanterns, tents, tarps, sleeping bags and pads, a bunch of dried rations, hunting traps, cooking spits, water filters, pretty much whatever we could think of. Still looking for mistletoe though."

Thankfully since Geralt was familiar with it already and had described it, they'd at least be able to spot it in the wild. As for everything else Ace would pass out the equipment to whoever wanted some before they got moving, or else stow it in the carriage so it wouldn't take up space in his bag. It already held way more than it logically should, but the space inside was still finite.

He'd let Blazermate or someone else give the report on the manor, after that it was up to the group if they wanted to try and bunk down there or move on from Snowdin and find another place. Before that though, there was one other thing that Ace had to bring up. He cleared his throat to get the attention back on him, and with a more serious tone he laid out his final finding.

"So we were talking with one of the locals, and she told us something really... incredible," he began, not sure if that was even the right word to use. "Apparently there's some Holy Order here in the Highlands that know how to make things die for real."

He didn't pause for long before he tried explaining more, a mix of eagerness and slight apprehension on his face. "Like, normally, leaving a body behind. No turning into ashes, and I'd guess no spirit either but... anyway, I think we should try and find them."

On that the Cadet sounded firm in his suggestion. "If we can learn how they do it, it'd solve some of the food problems for us and for the Lost Numbers. And if it means that no spirit gets left behind, then... I mean, maybe we could even try using it on Guardian."

Ace glanced at Geralt briefly. There were three Seekers present that had fused with Guardians, some of them pretty nasty pieces of work, but only the Witcher had mentioned a drawback as serious as potentially losing himself in a rage. If an option like this was available, and they could destroy a Guardian without needing to risk fusion with it, they should at least consider it.

Kit could chime in with his unique circumstances and the prospect of gaining Humanity too if he wanted, as it wasn't Ace's business to tell. Regardless, the hunter added after a moment, "unfortunately the Order travels around the region though, so finding them might be easier said than done."

Still, he knew it would be worth seeking them out.

It didn't look like anyone had much trouble with the yokai they'd chosen to take on, and the ones that had hung back to watch the fights weren't about to jump in the avenge their kin's losses. The spirit creatures chattered excitedly, some still upset and some hyped up, as they discussed the mysterious new group of fighters. The Seekers should probably give up on any plans of going incognito at this point, Pit thought, because if news of their actions and descriptions got back to the wrong people then their presence in Esaka would be discovered pretty quickly... but maybe anyone that didn't plan to make a public spectacle of themselves in the tournaments anyway could still keep their cover.

The angel regrouped with the rest of the Seekers, grinning at Big Band and Harry and flashing them a peace sign as he did. "We took care of that pretty fast."

Which meant they could get back on the road all the sooner. Their destination was so close that it made Pit all the more eager to get there. Before they took off, Amaterasu took the (very little) time to repair the parts of the village that had taken damage. Since she could fix broken things... it was going to make going all out in a fight a lot easier, since they wouldn't have to worry about collateral damage too much! Not having to worry about that was going to be great!

Still full of energy, Pit let out a "Come on, let's keep going!" even while some of the villagers tried offering words of thanks to the newcomers for putting an early stop to the Seethe. He led the way back out to the main road to find those who'd not fought waiting for them.

Malon and her carriage had moved on, Primrose having told her not to bother lingering when she had perishable goods to sell in the city. The rest of the walk wouldn't take very long anyway. And, if the milkmaid was was down a few bottles than she'd thought was when she did inventory thanks to a certain Seeker of Light, she would probably assume she counted wrong when she disposed of the broken ones.

As the group closed in on Esaka, Primrose occasionally glanced at the divine wolf while it kept an eye on the kids. When she'd briefly gone to see the commotion, she'd caught a glimpse of Amaterasu wielding a familiar weapon - one that she herself used from time to time. It piqued the dancer's curiosity, but not enough to bring it up. After all, Amaterasu couldn't talk, so there wouldn't be much of a discussion beyond playing twenty questions... and it wasn't like Primrose planned on giving up the useful Devout Beads anyway.

Once they were in the shadow of the massive tiered city, some of Therion's earlier tension bled away. He'd done a good job concealing it, and though logically infiltrating Esaka - the city of constant combat - would probably still prove to be dangerous, it was a danger easier to grasp versus the ghost-like nature of what he felt earlier. As the Seekers stood before the gatekeepers, Therion craned his neck up to take in as much of the city as he could from there. Actually, since there were tournaments and fights supposedly going on all the time here (which he didn't believe for a moment were all non-lethal), maybe Esaka was safer from random destruction by Consuls than most other places.

Greeted at the threshold by an alligator by the name of Azuma (with Pit not bothering to stifle his laugh at the pun Ms. Fortune pointed out), the group was swept inside past Esaka's apparent watch with ease. Before the tour really kicked off, a man who appeared to be a very friendly local greeted the group.

He was completely unfamiliar to Therion, and to Primrose he had only a vague familiarity as though she'd seen him in passing a few times. For Pit though, he recognized the muscular blonde almost right away.

"Oh! Terry!"

They'd lived in Smash City Alcamoth together with a ton of others, and Pit recalled that the man was super strong! Pit himself didn't look the same as he had back then -he was a few inches taller, his hair featured blonde and white patches at the tips of his locks, his blue eyes had gained brightly colored neon green and gold, and even his outfit was different- but his silhouette was still easily recognizable, especially when considering his wings and laurel wreath.

At first Pit thought that Terry must have survived the assault on the city. They'd been told that the number of survivors had been... well, low, to put it nicely. But Pit knew that with so many powerful people gathered there, there had to have been more that escaped and just hadn't been found yet. However, just a look at Terry's face told the angel that this was not exactly the Terry he knew. The Legendary Wolf seemed to recognize a few of the Seekers' faces, sort of, but he didn't really know them. And, of course, he wasn't "free" anymore.

"You came back- I mean, you ended up here? Er... okay, starting over, yeah, we used to know each other!" Pit stumbled over his words, excited to see the man and potential returning ally again, but unsure how to bridge the whole 'you might have just respawned and forgotten entirely about your past life' thing.

And with Terry's appearance the splitting up coincidentally began. Therion had already passed the gate, intending to find his own way around hopefully without being lumped in with the large group beforehand, though he turned to look at Primrose expectantly when she wasn't as quick to follow. Moving around Esaka and the Forbidden Kingdom as a whole without an easy means of communication would be troublesome in more ways than one - getting separated had led to trouble almost every time before, after all. Luckily while back in the Under, Primrose and Therion had acquired the means to circumvent being stuck without being able to contact their allies. Five of the Gold Team members were already connected by rosy pink pearl earrings (if they hadn't removed and lost them of course), but in the interest of making sure everyone had a way to speak without using Sandalphon as a middle man...

Primrose withdrew a device that resembled a clam shell from her bag. It didn't take long to fiddle with it and change its indicator color. Shimmery gold linkpearls began to form soon after.

"Captain Pit," she said, having already observed the angel liked being called as such. Pit turned, and when he saw Primrose waving him over he glanced back to Terry and said a quick, "Sorry, one sec!" before flitted over to the dancer.

She gestured for him to hold out his hands, which he did with a tilt of his head and curious look on his face but without question. Primrose poured the pearls into his cupped palms. There was enough for all of the Gold Team and then some, even after she delicately retrieved two of them from the pile.

"Linkpearls. Affix them to your ear and they allow the wearers to speak to each other over great distances," she explained. Then, with a slightly teasing tone she said, "I figured you would want an easy way to keep in touch with your team."

Before she'd filled him in on what exactly they were, Pit had stared wide eyed at the linkpearls, assuming they were just pure golden spheres and she'd just handed him a small fortune. There was, perhaps, just a little disappointment when he learned their true nature, but they were still valuable - just in a different way. Pit nodded vigorously, looking up at Primrose with a smile.

"Yeah, good idea! Thanks!" So he'd just have to pass them out to everyone--

Ah. Looking back at the group as a whole now Pit could see that some Seekers had already taken to exploring on their own without waiting for a grand tour. In any other circumstance Pit wouldn't really have blamed them, but now he had to find them. The angel let out a groan. They couldn't have gone that far though, right? They should all still be around the Low Tier. I'm sure I can find them! ...wait, is Juri still invisible? I haven't seen her for a while... ugh!

Juri would have been the first he forced a pearl onto if only he could find her. For all he knew she might still be with them right now, just unseen, but with all of the new sights, smells, sounds, and even auras he probably wouldn't be able to spot her even if she was. Alright, so finding everyone might be a bit of a pain, but he'd do it!

Pit got started right away, zipping over to everyone that was still gathered together and pressing a gold pearl into their hands, along with an even more abridged explanation than Primrose had given him. When Roland (who had been one of the people that left the group) returned, Pit said a quick "Got it," to him without even really listening to the report, and of course giving him a pearl and the same hurried explanation. He did the same with Harry (and Kim, since he was apparently Harry's friend? Pit was sort of rushing now), and then finally made his way back to Terry - presenting the earring to the fighter.

"To talk with us," he told the man. And then, to the Seekers he'd just gone all around to he said, "I'll be back soon!"

Pit took off, hopping up high onto the roof of a veranda for some higher ground before disappeared into the city. He had some comrades to find and make sure they got a nifty walkie-talkie earring before anyone could get really lost!

Primrose had watched the whole thing with amusement. She'd put the new gold earring into the ear opposite the rose colored one, noting that together the pair were similar to the focus band colors. Fitting, she thought. Technically she could have just have had the linkshell make more of the pink pearls, but maybe it would be better to have separate frequencies. Well, even if not, what's done was done. The dancer slipped away from the Seekers afterward, meeting up with Therion so the two could get started on their own intelligence gathering. She handed the thief the new earring, and he fit it next to the other without complaint.

After a moment, as they steadily got farther from the others, Therion pressed a hand to the original linkpearl. He knew it still worked since he'd been able to call Ms. Fortune with it the day before, so this time he tried Junior and Rika. It seemed to connect just fine.

"Hey, prince and princess," he said, "team captain's got something for you, keep an eye out for him."

His tone had briefly turned facetious when he mentioned the team captain, but the heads up worked even so. Assuming the Koopas actually played nice and didn't use the call as a warning to avoid said captain or something, that was "Team Player" Therion's attempt at being helpful for the morning. Of course without anyway to contact the other disappearing acts, Pit would just have to look around on his own.

Like Pit, Zenkichi took notice of Amaterasu dashing around the small town and fixing up any damage that the Seekers and Yokai had ended up causing. He gave the maybe-actual-god a wave and a smile for her efforts, bowing to her once he’d caught her attention before carrying on with the group.

Apparent divinity aside, Amaterasu was very obviously a benevolent presence among the Seekers, going out of her way to fix people’s damaged homes and generally clean the town up from the damage the brawl had caused. It did his Japanese sensibilities good to have somebody so dedicated to preserving public order and helping the little people out on their team. Not that the others were ne’er-do-wells, but…well, some of them were actually just ne’er-do-wells.

The walk from the little town to Esaka wasn’t much longer, and Zenkichi stared up at the Tiered City, impressed in a much different way than Midgar’s brutal technological marvels. Esaka was actually nice, for one, but it was also a much more natural-feeling city than Midgar was, both in planning and in construction. Though, Zenkichi was very much biased, given that the city had an undeniable Japanese flair to it that gave it a more familiar feeling than Midgar. The robotic sentries guarding the gates definitely felt like Midgar, though. And as Azuma explained their purpose, he couldn’t help but sigh. Gatekeepers, and more than in the literal sense. Ugh. Toxic losers.

He didn’t waste his breath trying to argue with that. If they wanted to stagnate and die, they were free to do so. Their land would be paved over by the Consuls and turned into some new bloodsport, he was sure. A bunch of the Seekers ran off while Azuma started getting ready to give a tour, but Zenkichi paid them little mind. Harry actually came back fairly quickly with a friend, who Zenkichi gave a small wave as Pit started dashing around and handing out Linkpearls. He quickly attached it to his ear, frowning at the sensation. He’d never been a jewelry guy, but he supposed it was more of an earpiece radio than a proper piece of jewelry, anyway. It just happened to look pretty, too.

Not having anything he was necessarily looking for, he stuck with the group and turned his attention to the InvestiGator, Azuma. ”So, Inspector, a few of us were interested in joining the tournaments while we’re here. How exactly does one go about doing so?” he asked the humanoid crocodilian.

As Azuma led the Seekers into Esaka, Ms Fortune and Big Band took in the sights around them, trying to familiarize themselves with the city’s Low Tier–and in many ways, it felt familiar. Sure, the buildings around here might be older, dirtier, closer together, and more run down than usual, but both of them had seen rougher parts of town than this. Little Innsmouth had its own charms and sensibilities that set it apart from New Meridian’s other poor districts, but Nadia had spent plenty of time on the wrong side of the tracks, prowling through the low-income neighborhoods and crime-infested boroughs where the cops from the NMPD seldom tread. Band, meanwhile, had been one of those rare cops, walking the beats that would make his less scrupulous colleagues’ stomach turn and doing what little he could to shine a light into the inner city’s darkness. Like Little Innsmouth, though, Esaka had a flavor all its own, and its citizens an irrepressible vitality. Maybe a populace of fighters who could all stand up for themselves had its merits.

The newcomers hadn’t gotten far before a couple new faces accosted them. One belonged to a gregarious, muscle-bound blonde dressed in eye-catching red. He seemed to recognize a couple of the Seekers, and he them. Not remembering him from Alcamoth, both Nadia and Band assumed that he was another old friend, although the latter nursed more curiosity since as far as he knew, most of the people Terry eyed weren’t from the same world. Of course, the feral didn’t hesitate to be friendly. “Heya!” she replied, returning the Hungry Wolf’s wave. For once, though, she let the others speak, starting with Pit. As he and Terry exchanged greetings, Nadia’s discretion allowed her to notice a couple allies’ departure. Therion slunk away into the shadows, and though wise to his act, his fellow thief was by no means inclined to stop him. Harry also stepped away after spotting and yelling at a bespectacled fellow he also seemed to recognize. “Big day for reunions,” she muttered as she watched him go, not quite paying full attention to anybody. Primrose was giving Pit some linkpearls, which was a great idea that Nadia wished she thought of first, while Junior and Rika darted off toward what looked like a toy store. Roland was gone too, off to grill the locals no doubt. And come to think of it, Nadia hadn’t seen Juri in a while…yippee!

After a few moments, Harry returned with the man he introduced as Kim Kitsuragi. Band greeted him in his typical manner, and caught on to what Harry must have meant when he said Band could give Kim the ‘lowdon’. “Uh huh…” Band looked around discreetly. This area was too open, and there were way too many people around for an ambush. Plus, he’s siphoned off plenty of his soul freeing Amaterasu, Kit, Harry, and Heismay already. Maybe someone else could chip in a friend heart this time? Especially if Kim would bring less to the table than Harry did; the Seekers couldn’t just go around freeing everyone. For now, Band cleared his throat in a way that said you get my drift? “Ahem! Well, this ain’t exactly the time or place, y’know? One of us can fill you in later.”

By that time, Pit had finished distributing linkpearls to everyone here, then ran off. Primrose had also made herself scarce, leaving just Amaterasu, Band, Nadia, Falcon, Sakura, Zenkichi, and Harry with the team’s new acquaintances. Huh. The feral blinked, looking around again to make sure she had that right. That was fast. Azuma treated those still here to a quizzical expression, which looked pretty funny on an alligator, but when Zenkichi addressed him he took his fellow detective seriously.

“Oh, of course. Here, there’s a couple dojos nearby. Let’s walk and talk, hm? The tournament system can be a little complicated for first-timers.” Azuma continued along the street with the remaining Seekers in tow. As much as she wanted to chat, Nadia knew she’d be remiss to zone out during this particular bit of exposition.

“Well, it’s like this, see,” Azuma began. “Here in Esaka, we run four tournaments every week, one for each of the Four Kings. Mr Heihachi Mishima runs the King of Iron Fist series, better known as ‘Tekken’. Master Bison runs the World Warrior series, Shao Khan runs the Mortal Kombat series, and Mr. Rugal Bernstein runs the King of Fighters series. They’re all double elimination, open tournaments, so anyone can sign up.”

As he paused to breathe, Band snuck in a question. “Double elimination?”

Azuma held up a finger. “Oh, yes, yes. In each tournament, everyone starts out in the Winners’ Bracket. If you lose once, you’re still in the game, but in Losers’ Bracket. Once you’re in Losers, things get more dicey. Lose again, and you’re out of the running–or worse, if you joined the Mortal Kombat tournament especially.”

Nadia frowned. “Ominous…”

“Anyway, once you’re signed up, you get seeded. Higher tier dojo, better seed. Then you go through pools,” Azuma continued. “Think of them as qualifier rounds, all fought in the Pools tier of Esaka. The number depends on how many entrants each tournament has. No real ceremony, just an officiant and whoever feels like coming around to watch. Those start on Wednesday and end on Friday, at which point the top twenty-four decided. On Saturday, those twenty-four are whittled down to just the top eight, and Sunday is the main event, when the top eight -four winners and four losers- go at it to decide the winner. You can still come back and take it all from Losers’ in the grand finals, but you have to beat your opponent two sets straight: one to send ‘em down to Losers with you, and the second to win.”

While he explained, the Seekers passed by a number of interesting-looking but obviously poverty-stricken dojos, including Ultra Fight de Kyanta, the one Azuma himself represented. Verdict Guilty…Trajes Fatais…Slap Happy Rhythm Busters… As Nadia read the signs, one made her double-take. Brief Karate Foolish? Only when she snuck a glance inside did she realize exactly which definition of the word ‘brief’ was in play, and subsequently want to bleach her eyes out. The feral returned to the group a little more dead inside, just in time to hear the end of Azuma’s explanation. “Okay, cool. Guess we’ll go and sign up then!”

The investigator snapped his fingers, remembering something. “Oh, I forgot! When I said ‘anyone can sign up’, that wasn’t quite right. Only registered fighters can sign up. In other words, you have to be part of a dojo.” He signed. “Unfortunately, you can’t just join the mid-tier and high-tier dojos. Unless they recognize you, you have to be invited.”

“Wait…” Nadia dared to glance back at the Brief Karate Foolish dojo, horrified. “You’re sayin’ we have to sign up for one of the dojos down here!?”

Azuma nodded his long snout up and down. “Yes ma’am. In fact, since pools start tomorrow, signups close at lunch today.” He checked his watch. “That gives you…roughly three and a half hours. Better hurry.”

Sighing, Band smiled ruefully to himself. “Sounds like our morning just got a whole lot more interestin’.” He deployed a tiny mechanical arm to tap the linkpearl in his ear. “Y’all got that?”

Nadia turned around, now seeing all the Low Tier’s dojos in a new light. With Pit gone, she also saw the chance to grandstand a little. “Well, you heard the ‘gator. Our quest to topple the Four Kings’ tier-anny starts here! Let’s find some dojos, gang!”

---

Clean Hits’ cashier regarded the two inquisitive youngsters with unblinking red eyes that shone from his cylindrical wooden head, devoid of visible emotion. “No tapes here. We mostly sell records. Esaka’s fighters, particularly among the top tiers, are famous for the iconic tracks made to commemorate them and their battlegrounds, some very old. Jukeboxes are very popular here for their ability to play music from across the generations. One of Esaka’s many traditions.”

The Mokujin indicated entire walls of the store dedicated to records made for the legendary top-tier World Warrior and Tekken dojos alone, each with dozens of tracks separated by era. Compared to titans like them, mid-tier dojos were lucky to even get a corner to themselves, and music made for low-tier dojos was nowhere to be found. Even in a Low Tier store, it seemed, the preferences of the population were clear.

After a few seconds, the Mokujin attempted to address Junior’s other question. “Shinjuku is a bustling metropolis to the west. Our tournaments are often broadcasted there, but we seldom get visitors. We have converted some of our tracks into tapes for Shinjuku music stores, though. If you’re interested in tapes, you might have more luck there.”



Before the team could get too far off topic, Edward quickly chimed in to follow up on Heismay’s announcement of the Seekers’ new ride. He mentioned some of the new furnishings that the two obtained for the stagecoach. From comfort to cuisine, it sounded like Sandalphon’s crew wouldn’t want for much on the road. Thanks to their efforts, the carriage wouldn’t just be transportation, but a mobile base, a home away from home. Provided, of course, they could secure more effective draft animals than Edward’s golems. Handy they might be, but speedy they were not.

Unfortunately, Sandalphon was no expert when it came to working with materials or animals, so hopefully they would find the requisite hide, fiber, and metal they’d need to hitch the Reindrix to the carriage. Or better yet, scavenge or trade for existing harnesses.

While Geralt seemed to be familiar with beast capture, as one might expect of a master hunter, he didn’t have the right device on hand. He could allude, though, to someone who did, and Sandalphon nodded at his question. “Yes, Maru is her name. She was also referred to as a ‘pal’, which seems to encompass a large spectrum of dissimilar creatures. The stall that sold her also sold pal spheres, but Everdream Valley is rather out of the way right now.” She pondered if it would be a worthwhile investment to set up some sort of pokeball or pal sphere production aboard the Avenger, given how many Seekers seemed interested in such companions.

Sectonia chimed in with what she’d discovered, primarily about various locales throughout the Frozen Highlands. A lot of it sounded anecdotal and rather inexact, but Sandalphon was surprised to hear about the importance the locals -or at least the Soulfisher- assigned to Moon Mountain. It seemed almost mythical in nature, and given how eerily that dark globe loomed against the horizon, she definitely understood. Furthermore, Highlands had been in a state of constant night now for a while, each day a touch colder than the last. Of course, her logical mind explained that ‘night’ as mere cloud cover, but it didn’t matter if conditions out there were actually worsening. The worse the weather got, the more difficult it would be for the Seekers to achieve their goals, to say nothing of the Highlands’ citizens. If necessary, they could always consider evacuating the people of Snowdin with the Avenger. What really puzzled Sandalphon was when the sun ‘disappeared’. Had Ace Cadet, who’d been in Edinburgh MagicaPolis just days ago, experienced this…? She made a mental note to ask him when he returned.

Geralt filled the others in on what he’d already told Sandalphon. The more she thought, the more Moon Mountain seemed like the answer to the Seekers’ question, barring any unlikely direct news about Baldur’s whereabouts. If nothing else, it would be the best vantage point for a light show with which they could draw the Guardian’s attention. Sectonia made another good point about scouring various stops on the way. With how things went last time, the heroes would need every advantage they could get. Sandalphon watched Edward’s drones fly off as they prepared to perform continuous reconnaissance around White Team as they traveled. With any luck, there would be profitable points of interest to be found among the trackless wastes of snow. Ample sources of food would be harder to come by. Eleven people (ten, not counting Blazermate) weren’t quite an army, but feeding them throughout this journey would not be an easy task.

It was then that Ace emerged from the deadwood tangle that shrouded the southern uphill footpath. Behind him followed Kit, Blazermate, and an unidentified robotic individual. Though Ramattra’s size, stature, and distinctive staff combined to give him a rather intimidating air, Ace and especially Blazermate seemed comfortable around him, so Sandalphon assumed no hostility on his part. Her scans detected slightly elevated heart rates and mechanical activity, so maybe the Seekers had found this stranger in a bind and lent him their help, which would be no surprise to Sandalphon.

“Ah, there you are,” Heismay remarked, turning toward the incoming group. “And here I thought you might have wandered off.”

She and the others wasted no time in getting the four up to speed, distributing parkas alongside the information. As it happened, they came bearing very good news: that Ace had not only procured a lot of camping equipment, but also already managed to obtain a handful of pal spheres purely by chance. Sandalphon admired the reflective glint of Snowdin’s colorful Christmas lights in the crystalline orb’s many facets, then looked over Ace’s haul, scratching off items on her mental checklist. “Providential timing,” she concurred. With everything going the team’s way so far, the Seekers’ expedition was off to an excellent start. Now they only lacked one thing, albeit a big one: where to find the Guardian.

Heismay was taken aback that his problem had been solved so soon, but he certainly didn’t object. “I’ll not look a gift horse in the mouth. Fine work,” he told Ace. As he spoke, though, the eugief kept his ruby-red eyes on Ramattra. “And who might this be? Another promising new addition to our retinue, perhaps?”

Ramattra proved to be a touch reticent when faced with so many people, but it seemed clear that he’d been a big help during the kerfuffle at the cliffside mansion. “If you have nowhere else to go, you’re welcome to travel alongside us for the time being,” Sandalphon told him, extending the omnic an invitation.

As if he hadn’t done enough already, Ace had one more interesting tidbit to share. Sandalphon digested the news about the wandering faction he heard of, intrigued. So, a troop of itinerant clerics wield a miracle capable of enacting natural death without dissolution,” she summarized. “I agree. We must keep an eye out for this Holy Order as we travel. If we encounter them, I will make every effort to learn this incantation myself, if I am capable.” As far as she knew nobody else in her party had the faith required to invoke miracles, but perhaps she simply didn’t know them well enough yet.

With everyone present and accounted for, it was time for the Seekers’ leader to render her decision. “After some consideration,” Sandalphon began. “Since we have no clues as to Baldur’s whereabouts right now, and there is no reason for him to visit Snowdin, our best bet would be to search and question as we travel. Given its significance to the people of this region, as well as its prominence as a vantage point from which we can draw Baldur’s attention, I propose that we journey to Moon Mountain.” She cast her gaze, and the attention of her comrades, to the distant northwestern horizon where the moon (or at least, a moon) hung, low and still, over Dragonspine. “To get there, we need only follow the trail known as the Midnight Walk.” Though difficult to distinguish at times, the road that ran through town continued on to the west, winding around halls and between giant pines bowing beneath the weight of their snowy blankets. With no other options, it was as good a road as any.

The team quickly prepared to set out. With the stagecoach fully furnished, all the camping and survival gear got stored overhead, hanging on hooks from the metal mesh on the ceiling. Given the transport’s lackluster speed, anyone who wished to could easily walk alongside it, or run ahead to explore the surrounding area as they waited for the wagon to catch up. Though Sandalphon did not relish the prospect of sitting idle as her ride trundled along with a miles-per-hour in the single digits, the idea of walking outside sounded even worse, so the archangel consigned herself to the bench inside. The one thing Ace hadn’t obtained was a map, but she could chart her own using a light screen if fed sufficient data about her surroundings.

Heismay, meanwhile, was much more inclined to action. Expecting that Edward’s drones would be scouting too far afield to be effective security, he stationed himself as a lookout atop the stagecoach’s roof. If anything sprang out at the Seekers he’d be ready; if not, he could always busy himself brushing snow off the roof to keep the vehicle as light as possible. Of course, this post also had the questionably unintentional side effect of isolating him from everyone inside–Heismay still wasn’t used to large groups of people yet.

Once everyone was more or less ready, the only thing to do was to get going.



The Midnight Walk led the travelers west and north in relatively equal measure. Once they left the warm lights and full hearts of Snowdin behind, they found themselves crossing a vast wilderness split between coniferous forest, flat snowfields, and icy crags. Scattered throughout were crystal-clear rivers and little lakes, not always frozen, but always so bone-chilling cold that to immerse oneself in them was tantamount to suicide, parka or no parka. The frigid night was far from lifeless, however, and the intrepid explorer (or perceptive drone) could spot in the gloom a number of shaggy, primeval beasts adapted for life in the snow, such as omnivorous daeodon (colloquially known as ‘hell pigs’), the giant but skittish deerlike megaloceros, dire wolves, and even greater mammals like chalicotherium, megatherium, and woolly rhinoceros. For now Heismay couldn’t see any Reindrix, but he assumed it would only be a matter of time. Meanwhile, those with an eye for minerals could locate deposits of coal (and more rarely, veins of iron ore) among the rocky outcrops, provided they didn’t run afoul of wormlike coal tars in the process.

There were a couple oddities scattered around, as well. Relatively close to Snowdin the stagecoach passed by a frozen lake with a couple small huts on one side, along with a large igloo that turned out to be the Slushie Shop, furnished with a wooden interior and run by a griffin happy to sell frozen treats. On the other side of the lake sat an old viking warship, marooned in the ice. Farther out, though, one could find small camps -or roving bands- of the violent tribal rodents known as the Urikki. With earthbound raiders supported by their more batlike aerial cousins, the well-armed and cunning bandits could be very dangerous to lone travelers, but they seldom picked fights they couldn’t win, so they steered clear of the stagecoach itself for now. More of an issue were the blustering Ty-foos, large cloudlike creatures which happily blew freezing winds at anyone who entered their territory. At least one had decided to hang out right next to the road, so it would need to be dealt with before the stagecoach came along.