While Nadia figured that there must logically be an official way to go up or down between the levels of the Tiered City, whether by elevator, train, or very long staircase, the fiercely independent feral saw no reason to abide by such pedestrian methods when she could blaze her own trail instead. And from where she now stood at the very edge of the Low Tier’s cramped slums, shading her eyes against the sun with one hand as she peered up the wall toward the next level, going her own way looked very doable indeed. After all, while the wall rose with clifflike perpendicularity to form a staunch, flat backdrop for the Low Tier, it didn’t confront her with an implacable sheer surface. Instead it appeared to be stone brick all the way up, with sufficient mortar seams and irregularities of depth that Nadia could identify a wealth of handholds and crevices where her claws could find purchase. It would be tough going, and dangerous if she lost her grip, but once the catgirl was set on something there wasn’t any room for second-guesses. With a grin of utterly self-sure determination, Nadia sharpened her claws and began to climb.

To her delight, the ascent proved neither too hard nor too easy, but an engaging challenge. While 2,700 Pounds of Justice worked against her, making each movement up the rock wall harder than it needed to be, her natural (and unnatural) abilities more than made up the difference. Being able to stretch out her limbs, dig her claws into stone, and push herself against the wall with a little directional bloodletting gave her every advantage. Nadia knew that she could airdash back onto the wall if she fell, too, but it never came to that. Instead she made steady progress, working up a light sweat as she scaled Esaka’s class divide. Finally, after only five minutes or so, she took a final leap of faith to latch onto the railing that crowned the wall with hyper-extended arms, then snap her muscle fibers together to send herself flying up and over into the second tier. “Aha!”

She took one look down while airborne and saw nothing but water. “Aha!?”

PLOOSH!

Nadia belly-flopped into the cold water, sputtering and flailing as she tried to find her footing, much to the amusement of a couple surprised onlookers. The cat burglar didn’t hate water by any means, but a dunk straight away was quite the shock. After surfacing, she swam over to the narrow walkway that ran along the outer wall and pulled herself out. When she spotted a few locals chuckling at or concerned for her, she couldn’t suppress a good-natured laugh herself. “Hey there folks~!” she greeted them as she got to her feet, waving. “It’s all good! All in a day’s work as Ms. Fortune, the scrappiest up-and-coming superstar in Esaka. I’ll be here all week, so if you’re a fan of plucky underdogs (or undercats, for that matter), I hope that little pratfall ‘wets’ your appetite!”

As she stepped back onto the water’s surface, her rigging unfurled to keep her afloat atop the water’s surface, and Nadia gave a theatrical flourish before bowing to impress the spectators. Sure, the feral might be in Esaka on business, but Nadia was someone who knew how to have fun -and make friends- no matter what she was doing. “Keep an eye out for tomorrow’s headline: ‘Ms. Fortune makes a splash!’ Tata for now!” With that, she skated away.

So this was the Pools, huh? The name really didn’t do it justice. The entire tier was essentially one giant, donut-shaped pool a good twenty feet deep, littered by all kinds of bridges, catwalks, viewing stands, water features, and especially arenas. Nadia could see battlegrounds of all shapes and sizes practically everywhere she looked, all islands unto themselves with the water around them serving as a natural out-of-bounds. Some floated on the water, whether little more than rafts or multi-floor ship decks, or actual functional boats. Other arenas were simple stone shapes either just above or high above the water’s surface, usually squares or circles, some with walls. A few looked like actual sports arenas, some rising very high indeed above the water.

There were very few people actually fighting here right now, so the entire tier was mostly empty except for a couple city denizens treating the proving grounds like an actual water park, which seemed pretty fair to Nadia. With the wind in her hair, the feral happily skated around the tier, seeing the sights. She ducked under arches and bridges, leaped over walkways, and zipped through fountains, speeding wherever her whimsy took her. It was great fun, but after a couple minutes the annoying, rational part of Nadia’s mind (small and feeble though it was) reminded her that she was on a tight time limit. After making a mental note to drown that part of her in booze at the first opportunity, she begrudgingly reined it in and set off for her destination. This time, she had seen the way up (a very large, open-air elevator) so she wound down by riding it to the Middle Tier rather than climbing.

For Nadia, who’d spent most of her life in one or another of New Meridian's poorer districts, the Middle Tier seemed glitzy and glamorous–even though for all intents and purposes, it appeared to be a pretty normal urban Japanese city. Rather than a labyrinth of alleyways like the Low Tier, it had its own streets, meticulously named and organized in a feat of civil engineering. These streets all took foot traffic only, of course, with no vehicles in sight. As she walked around the blocks, gawking like some tourist, Nadia spotted all kinds of shops with strange and amusing names that sounded like puns she wasn’t savvy enough to get yet. Bread and Butter made sense as a grocery store, but Hood Perfect was apparently an apparel shop, with all kinds of stylish streetwear on display. Nadia caught the tantalizing savory smell of pizza and meatballs wafting from a restaurant called Double Luigi, but she would have to come back later to hear what kind of music got played in nightclubs like Deadly Rave.

Nadia also found fewer dojos, and not just because of the Middle Tier’s smaller surface area. Even the smallest and shabbiest one was bigger and nicer than the best dojo the Low Tier could dredge up, each boasting multiple stories and solid construction. They sported titles like Them’s Fightin Herds, Under Night In-Birth, Killer Instinct, Soul Calibur, and Rivals of Aether. With how approachable most of the locals were, it didn’t take too long to track down the one Nadia was looking for. The moment she laid eyes on the NMO headquarters, she realized that she’d come to the right place. Though she wasn’t well-versed in art enough to assign it a name, she recognized the Art Deco architectural style at a glance. With pep in her step, Nadia pushed inside to the sound of a ringing bell.

Across the lobby, the main room of the dojo appeared to be a tall, two-story windowless gym with walls of what looked like loose leaf notebook paper. Its only features were a chalk blackboard, school desk, and accompanying chair, but it was occupied. Nadia spotted a teenage girl with dark, seemingly animate hair, doing some sort of drill under the instruction of a stern-looking, long-legged tutor, who held her pointer a little too much like one might a riding crop for comfort. Intrigued, Nadia let the front door swing closed and watched for a few moments, ears flicking, as the girl tried and failed to perform a long combo strong down, berated not just by the tutor but by a gruff male voice that emanating from an upside-down face back of her head. “Sheesh, I’m surprised teachers like that don’t go cross-eyed,” Nadia muttered to herself. “They just can’t control their pupils.”

“Hello?”

Nadia’s head twisted around to see a young, one-eyed girl and a burly, hairy guy in a wolf pelt descending the stairs to see who’d entered the dojo. The feral’s eyes went wide as she pointed a finger at the two of them, sputtering. “Wait! I know you! Both you guys! You’re..! You’re..! Uh!” She turned her attention from the tired-looking kid to the washed-up wrestler. “And you! You’re that…that guy!” Unable to recall their names, she clamped her hands to her head. “You’re on TV!”

“It’s, Beowulf!” the man supplied, shaking his head incredulously. “C’mon, really? I’m only the biggest, baddest wolf in the whole New Meridian wrestling scene!” He puffed out his chest, striking a pose that might have been iconic if he was really as famous as he thought he was.

Nadia winced slightly. “Y-yeah, of course! It’s just, I don’t watch TV much, and, uh…” She scratched her head. “That’s beside the point! I’m from New Meridian too. Little Innsmouth! And I really need to sign up with a dojo today, before-”

The girl gave her a dubious look. “Oh, is that so? Looking for a way in, are you?” She crossed her arms. “You wouldn't be the first.”

“I really AM from New Meridian!” Nadia insisted. “Ever hear of Ms Fortune, the infamous phantom thief and the incredible Fishbone gang?”

The girl’s face didn’t budge an inch. “No.”

As Nadia wilted, Beowulf shot her a look as if to say not a nice feeling, huh? “W-well, I mean, it’s not like thieves set out to become household names or anythin’...”

Luckily, Beowolf was a better sport than one would hope. “C’mon, Annie, give her a break. It’s not like people are chompin’ at the bit to join NMO anyhow. We haven’t had any new recruits in ages…we could get kicked down to the Low Tier any day now!”

“Annie, that’s it!” Nadia snapped her fingers. “Girl of the Stars! Right!?”

One glance from Annie shut Beowulf up. “Can it. She probably just heard about us and came to try our luck. Didn’t even know our names.” She rolled her eyes. “Couldn’t even be bothered to come up with one of her own, either.”

That puzzled Nadia. “Say what?”

“She’s saying you’re a faker,” a buzzy, artificial voice declared. Affronted, Nadia looked up just in time to see a familiar, albeit metallic, shape drop down. The floor shook when she landed, and when she stood up, Robo-fortune’s yellow eyes glared straight into Nadia’s soul. “So, this flea-ridden meatbag thinks she can cramp my style?”

Nadia bristled, grinning dangerously. “If anything, you’re the fake catgirl around here. Comparing yourself to me? Ha! In your dreams, tin cans! In all my ears, I’ve never metal-loser like you before!”

“Hey, let’s settle down, okay?” Beowulf held up his hands, his voice gruff. “No need to be rude, Robo!” He paused, squinting at the two. “Huh. They are kinda similar, though…”

Robo-fortune ignored him, instead shooting lasers from her eyes to perform a blazing sweep. Nadia detached at the thighs, her upper body popping up to slash at Robo’s head with sharpened claws. Instead Robo’s head shot off like a missile, and after Nadia reunited, she dashed backward to evade its explosive divebomb. Both then charged forward in an electric clash, sparks flying as the two cats met tail-to-tail.

“Copy-cat!” Nadia hissed.

“Obsolete,” Robo-fortune replied.

As they jumped spart, Annie raised an eyebrow. “I see what you mean. Hm…fine.” She looked between the two Fortunes. “Ms. Fortune, was it? I can see you’re a feral, and not anyone can namedrop Little Innsmouth. If you’ve got what it takes to beat your evil clone, you can stay. ‘Kay?”

“Got it!” Nadia grinned. “Don’t worry, circuitty! Once we’re done, I’ll scrape what’s left of you into the robot-tom tier!”

Robo-fortune squared up. “This is an inefficient use of cat.”



Even with the full team present and accounted for, travel through the reavers’ woods would have been stressful. Unnatural greenish lights shone from twisted trees in the distance, and hateful shapes of melded flesh and bone skulked in the shadows, their baleful eyes aglow and ever watchful. The trees that flanked the Midnight Walk were thick, at times bending over the road itself to create a rustling, whistling tunnel of bristling needles and boughs. Once most of White Team’s members broke off from the path to pursue various side objectives, though, the trip became downright terrifying. Ace, Geralt, Edward, Roxas, and Heismay split off to capture the much-needed Reindrix that promised to increase the team’s travel speed, while the restless Celica and Kit joined Ramattra to look further into the eerie sawmill to investigate Heismay’s claim of monstrous hoarders, intending to catch up with the rest once they finished.

That left Sandalphon alone inside the stagecoach, with no guarantee of safety but for the presence of Blazermate, Ganondorf, and Sectonia. When a pinecone fell from a stooped conifer and bounced off the coach’s roof, the once-unflappable archangel jumped. Though she didn’t dare to stick her head out of the vehicle, Sandalphon found herself unable to concentrate on her work, instead preoccupied with the conjurations of her fretful imagination. It was not a pleasant journey.

Eventually, the powderkeg of tension finally blew up. With most of the Seekers gone, several squads of reavers laying in wait burst from the haunted forest in a cacophony of frenzied, inhuman screams. Their arrows, axes, and bludgeons pummeled stagecoach and golem alike, and though they suffered damage, the coach’s armor held firm. Then, with Sandalphon and Blazermate on hand to support them, Ganondorf and Sectonia managed to turn the tables on the attackers, felling enough that the remainder withdrew.

At length, however, the oppressive woodland finally began to thin. The return of the capture team provided enough manpower to ward off further assault, and when the stagecoach reached a clearing protected by natural ridges of rock, White Team stopped to substitute the Reindrix for Edward’s golems. It took almost half hour to get them properly hitched, but mercifully no monsters attacked them, despite the steady and ominous increase of furtive movements and staring eyes in the darkness. During this time Ramattra returned alone, separated from the other new recruits in the lumber mill Soon after the Reindrix were installed, it became apparent that the team couldn’t afford to wait for Kit and Celica any longer. Hopefully the two would know better than to brave this forest alone, and instead retrace their steps to Snowdin.

The Reindrix were every bit as capable draft animals as their appearance suggested. While wrangling them took a little getting used to, the difference in speed with them versus the golems could not be overstated. With little purchase against the buffeting wind atop the slick stagecoach, Heismay was forced to relinquish his perch and hang instead from the forward overhang, where he served as a second pair of eyes for the coach’s driver and helped to oversee the pals at work. Moving quite quickly now, White Team proceeded along the Midnight Walk as it wound around wooded hills and rocky ridges. After an extended uphill section, the snowy trail suddenly veered right around a corner and down a steep hillside, winding back and forth like a snake. That gave the Seekers ample time to see what lay ahead of them: a sprawling and elaborate complex of both semi-natural areas and large, majestic structures in the stunning Belle Époque architectural style. Slowly, inevitably, the Midnight Walk led them down the frosty hill, past a frozen river, and to the tall, wrought-iron front gates of Krat Zoo.



From the outset, unfortunately, everyone could readily see that all was not well with Krat Zoo. Even before reaching the gates, the team’s outriders would be plagued by small packs of strange wolves with oddly elongated jaws and a variety of horrible growths and protrusions, their bloodthirsty aggressions marked by frightfully unnatural behaviors. When the stagecoach slowed down at the gates, Sandalphon stepped out to survey the situation herself. “It seems that the Midnight Walk leads through this place,” she concluded. “Let’s proceed with caution. Given the aberrant fauna we’ve already encountered, I advise that we travel ahead of the stagecoach and clear the way for it. Let us be quick, thorough, and above all, wary.”

The archangel’s precautions proved well warranted. Between the gates and the main building lay the zoo plaza, littered with an abundance of corpses both human and animal, including the tragic cadaver of a once-amazing adult giraffe. Alongside various oxidized bronze animal statues, at least half a dozen cage wagons were scattered around the plaza, two of them overturned, and within struggled unidentifiable masses of berserk, animalistic fury. When the Seekers got near, the prisoners began to break free. They turned out to be mutated mandrills, the apes’ muscular bodies twisted by some sort of biological corruption that animated them well past the point of expiration. These carcasses attacked not just with savage strength, but the cunning to backpedal when needed and throw debris from afar.

Once the team made contact with the enemy, Sandalphon put her new hexagun to the test. Guided by her expert hand, the magic rifle fired off pinpoint-accurate arcane rays that pierced her targets, and while the mandrill carcasses weren’t grouped up enough to cause collateral damage, they still packed a punch. Sandalphon quickly found that while shooting vitals did work, these horrors could suffer a lot more punishment than normal animals. “While I have no proof of any infectious pathogen at work, I advise everyone to avoid being bitten at all costs,” she called to the group.

“Noted,” Heismay grunted. As his allies attended to the mandrills, he’d attempted to skirt around the conflict in order to try and flank the monster from behind, only to run into two wolf carcasses. Relatively weak but very quick, and prone to circling around, the wolves attacked in a staggered manner, each lunging for Heismay just long enough after the other did that he couldn’t capitalize on one without risking a chomp from the second. “Hmph! Damnable things!” he hissed, leaping up onto the statue of a zebra. With a snarl he jumped down, his full weight driving his new longsaber into one wolf’s back. He then backflipped sideways, wrenching the blade out in an upward arc that severed the monster’s spine and cut it in half. The other carcass sprang over the remains of the first, its jaws snapping shut mere inches from Heismay’s wing as he jumped away. “Thief!” As the wolf approached, he transformed and blasted it in the face with dark magic, and its headless corpse slumped down. Only then did the eugief notice that the front half of the first wolf’s corpse was still coming toward him, which he put a stop to with a shiver.

A moment later, a huge, wretched polar bear carcass burst through the building’s main door. The hulking thing charged across the plaza, straight toward the caravan. Heismay cast Mudo after Mudo, to no avail. “Incoming!” he yelled.

Sandalphon breathed in sharply, then opened fire. Without bothering to aim precisely, she squeezed the hexagun’s trigger as fast as possible, only ensuring that she hit the huge carcass somewhere. Each shot was a roll of the dice, and after a half-dozen shots, her number came up. The seventh ray transmogrified the incoming bear in a burst of white feathers, leaving a bulbous white chicken in its place. Her eyes lingered on the now harmless beast a moment longer before she relaxed. “Target neutralized.” Whether or not anyone smushed the chicken was up to them.

After dealing with the rest of the mandrills, the Seekers entered the Hall of Adventure, as indicated by the damaged banner that hung over the immense woolly mammoth display inside. At least four stories high including the vaulted ceilings, and with sizable east and west wings, the Hall of Adventure was the biggest building in the zoo, but it had seen better days. Only carcasses walked its halls now, ignorant of the elaborate taxidermy displays arranged in every room with corresponding educational plaques. The Midnight Walk led around the mammoth and toward a set of huge, heavy metal doors that sat opposite the front door, but these durable doors proved to be locked, blocking the Seekers’ journey.

Sandalphon’s scan of the doors’ structural integrity turned up bad news. “It will take some time to break through,” Sandalphon judged, brushing the door with her hand. “It may be faster to find another exit from the Hall of Adventure and open the door from the other side. As for the zoo itself…it is clearly a dangerous blight on the Frozen Highlands. I recommend that we exterminate every monster we come across. We can also use this opportunity to search for useful items.”

As for what each Seeker should do, she left that to her teammates’ discretion. They could stay with the stagecoach to defend it or break through the door, as arduous and tedious as that would be, or explore the Hall of Adventure in search of loot or another way out.

Okay… that was sweet, Terry inwardly admitted, but embarrassing. Sheesh… I could’ve sworn I almost passed out!

The hat-wearing bruiser could still feel shivers running down his spine after having been besieged by an army of devoted fangirls, their bright lip tints still lingering around his cheeks and neck. Stunned, he’d been holding his head while drawing himself farther and farther away from the prior secluded spot, his steps groggy and his grip around the strap of his duffle bag faltering. Imaginary stars and cupids started to swirl around his head, as he tried to calm the stinging dizziness the suffocating crowd had caused. The sight made him seem like he was either drunk or beaten up by a horde of fighters of his caliber, while really, the only real threat he was facing was a bunch of baddies unwilling to let him leave. Well, that, if they could ever be considered a threat, anyway.

As Terry strolled past one dojo to another, noises of scuffles greeted his ears. The loud echoes of exploding projectiles, clinking swords, and colliding limbs played like a concoction of melodies uniting in harmony. It seemed that his newfound allies had started taking tryouts in their respective dojos of choices, and he couldn’t help but feel grateful for them. And of course, alongside the battle rhythm came those uncoordinated squealing noises again—the ones greeting him while he was chattering with Cap. They were closing in again, louder than ever in the most obnoxious way imaginable. Terry glanced past his shoulder, his blue eyes widening at the distant sight of the same horde who’d been holding him captive.

Oh, shit…

Hilariously, Terry darted his gaze ahead and ran away, his steps tremendously accelerating. He’d clearly had enough with those rabid fangirls he stumbled upon earlier. In no time, he managed to distance himself from the growing sight behind him, slowly but surely evading the wild crowd. If Pao Pao Café 7 was the next destination for the crew, he’d surely have fled there and hidden until the approaching crowd subsided. But alas, before he could realize his intention, something hampered his path. He quickly halted when someone called his name out from right across him, their voice deep and distorted.

“Terry Bogard,” the voice initiated. “It has come to my attention that you have a lot of admirers now. I still remember when you were just a poor kid trying to make a name for yourself in small fighting pits. You sure have come a long way. Too bad, your legend has to end here.”

Terry gasped, swallowing hard. Was that supposed to be a challenge? He wasn’t too certain. Though, there sure was a hint of passive aggression in their voice, as if he’d enraged them. He turned to face the source of the voice, and as it turned out, it was the obese, loinclothed man he and the crew happened to pass by while searching for dojos. The said obese man frowned, firmly squeezing the arms of his throne.

“Mondu…” Terry muttered knowingly.

“Indeed. It is I, Mondu the Fat,” the obese man reintroduced, still managing a passive aggressive tone, “and I welcome you, Terry Bogard, to the Fight Palace… dishonorably.”

Terry arched an eyebrow, his duffle bag lowered. “Excuse me?” he pardoned. “You do know that I already have a dojo, right? And just why the hell are you looking at me like that?”

Mondu pursed his pale lips, his face scrunching. “You fool! Do you not realize that you have infuriated the Lord of the Fight Palace!?” he asked furiously.

Terry’s face was completely puzzled. He shrugged, spreading a hand. “But… what did I do wrong??”

“Edwina is my wife,” Mondu elaborated. “She is the Empress of the Fight Palace, but I’m certain you hadn’t a clue of what she is, considering that you tried to flirt with her right in front of my eyes. Such a distasteful action, I must admit, especially coming from you, ‘Hero of South Town.’”

Rather than enlightened, Terry became even more clueless. He scrunched his face, faintly narrowing his eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry? Me flirting with your wife?” he protested. “Sounds like you got it all wrong, bud. All I did was give her an autograph and just call it a day. She never even got to kiss me.”

It was true that—out of all the fangirls surrounding Terry earlier—Edwina was one of the few who tried not to kiss nor cuddle him. And it wasn’t like Terry tried to do anything to reciprocate any of the affection given to him, either. The autographs were what he focused on the most, as that was what the fangirls initially came for.

“Liar!” Mondu objected with a pointing finger, refusing to accept the truth. “I heard it firsthand how my wife begged for you to marry her. Do not lie, Terry Bogard, you must’ve said something that encouraged her to say so, did you not?”

“Oh, boy…” Terry sighed, planting a palm over his face. “Look, man, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean that. First of all, I had no idea the mohawk lady was your wife, and I sure as hell didn’t do any of the stuff you accused me of—”

“Enough!”

“Gwahh—!!”

Cutting his words, Mondu thrusted forth his lengthy tongue out of his layered belly, using it to wrap and bring Terry to his dojo. Mondu’s Fight Palace was unlike any other low-tier dojos, to say the least. It was a broad open space structured almost like an arena, instead of a conventional gym. The roster mostly consisted of outer-space creatures who’d been watching from the crowd section in silence. They sat incredibly still, rarely twitching nor making a single noise. If it wasn’t for the yokais and some of Terry’s fangirls drawn into the place, surely, the arena-like dojo would’ve felt flat and lifeless. As it was with many of the low-tier dojos, Mondu’s Fight Palace had assumed multiple names in the past, most popularly ‘Slaughter Sport,’ ‘Tongue of the Fatman,’ and ‘Red Belt.’

“Ungh!”

Terry’s torso kissed the ground harshly upon being slammed by Mondu’s squeezing tongue, his duffle bag flying out of his grip. A gasp escaped his mouth, as he laid flat on his stomach. Thankfully, it didn’t take a while for him to sit up, noticing that his upper clothes had been stained by the fat man’s thick saliva. The hat-wearing bruiser flinched.

Gross! he cursed inwardly, hesitantly trying to wipe the sticky substance away.

Mondu laughed at the sight, crossing his surprisingly toned arms over his ample chest. “This is what happens when you despise the Lord of the Fight Palace,” he scoffed. “Do you not know that I’m the one keeping this part of the city afloat? Best you keep yourself wary, Terry Bogard, because today, you shall face the wrath of Mondu the Fat!”

Obviously, his statement was exaggerated, and Terry could tell it in a heartbeat. If Mondu was truly that mighty, he wouldn’t have been running a low-tier dojo to begin with. Better yet, he wouldn’t have gone as far as promoting his so-called ‘fight palace’ to every pedestrian walking past the street. His arrogance frankly reminded him of some of the practitioners he despised from the KOF dojo.

Egomaniacs, Terry. Egomaniacs everywhere, he told himself inwardly, grunting and picking himself up. Normally, he would’ve talked someone like the fat man out of unnecessary altercation, but since he was still under Galeem’s influence, he chose to reciprocate the challenge, anyway. “Heh. Well said, fatso! That’s a damn fine speech, won’t you guys agree?” Terry asked with his hands gesturing at Mondu, blue eyes on the sidelines as he tried to communicate with the attendants. The outer-space creatures remained unfazed, yet his fangirls had already yelled nonstop. His eyes moved back to Mondu. “So you really think that you can end my legend, huh? Heh. C’mon, be serious now! If you really wanna test your luck, then go ahead! You’ve been awful to me, anyway.”

Mondu smirked, patting his fat belly. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, child. We shall be fighting soon. For now, you shall play by my game and face my champion.” He snapped his fingers, gesturing his best fighter to enter the ring. “Rex?”

As instructed, the champion of the Fight Palace leaped past the barricade, his bare feet landing smoothly atop of the sandy ground. One of the only two earthlings in the roster, Rex was a middle aged man with tanned complexion, thick moustache, and a pitch-black long hair that he kept in a ponytail. His outfit was simple, solely consisting of rolled sweatpants decked with crimson and golden lists. As he assumed his ready stance, Rex confidently approached Terry, taunting him.

“Touch me and I’ll kill you,” he threatened with a glare and a smug grin.

Mondu snickered, watching from his throne as his champion readied himself for a match against a fellow champion. His back relaxed against its backrest. “Make this amusing, will you, Terry Bogard? Or else, I shall feed you to my pet shark,” he threatened, his creepy smile widening. He then glanced at his champion. “Rex, you know what to do.” His eyes gestured at Terry. “Git’m and sic’m, boy!”

Terry didn’t say a thing to Mondu. Instead, he only smirked back, then took a series of small hops to warm himself up. “Alright, time for a lil’ side quest!” he said, then slammed his fist back, his thumb pointing backwards. “Hah!”

As the bell rang, Terry swung his gloved fists close to his blonde temples, taking his own ready stance. Both he and Rex began circling and sizing up each other, searching for the right moment to strike. The cheers were loud coming from the horde of Terry’s fangirls, while the yokais involved themselves in a betting game conducted by a scary-looking verdant creature with canine fangs and uniquely shaped antennas. Terry could quite hear some of the words spoken between the yokais and the space creature.

“Well, well… Welcome to the game, slimeballs!” the verdant space creature greeted. “If you don’t get your asses sent back to the spirit realm, you may make a few bucks. But then, none of you look smart. Better send some cash home for your upcoming rapture.” He extended his hand, as if gesturing to the yokais to start placing their bets. Despite the mockery, they went ahead with the offer, anyway.

One yokai said, “Bet! I’ll go with the obvious. If it ain’t gonna be Terry, then I dunno,” before handing the space creature tens of notes worth of money.

The other agreed and did the same thing, handing a bag full of coins, instead. “Yeah, totally! I mean, duh, Terry was a three-time KOF champ and the slayer of Mars the Fire God. It’s no diff, y’all! Besides, all that Rex guy could do was win some shitty tournaments held by some creepy fatass with a funny tongue.”

Another one joined in a bit later, nodding in agreement. He handed the space creature a smaller amount of notes tucked within a crimson Chinese envelope. “I got no doubt that Terry’s winnin’, too,” he remarked. “But hey, better not go all in just yet, don’t you think? It’s only the first match, and Terry’s the one fighting Rex here, instead of anybody else from the KOF dojo. No cap that I would’ve placed a higher bet if it was Kyo or Iori competing.”

A different yokai chimed in, begging to differ. “Sorry, y’all, but I’m gonna go with Rex,” he told the others, confidently handing a miniscule briefcase to the space creature. “Y’all Terry mains really have no idea how much of a big deal Rex is. He’s one of the only humanoids to participate in Mondu’s fight pit, let alone in the entire universe! Dude can Wang the Chang, and his feet are registered lethal weapons. Seriously, though, have y’all even checked out his kill count?”

Regardless of what the yokais were rooting for, Terry chose to focus on the opponent ahead, planning on giving his all for each and every attendant watching by the sidelines. He had to admit Rex did look like a big deal, as he was an enormous man towering over him. He might want to be careful while facing an opponent of Rex’s size.

After sizing each other up for quite some time, Rex decided to make a move. Smirking, he then exhaled a fiery breath, a lengthy, swirling torch bursting out of his mouth. Thankfully, before it could roast him alive, Terry had managed to sidestep, his movements swift yet gracious. Rex hadn’t given up just yet and decided to use the same technique again, only to be evaded by Terry. Thinking that his opponent must’ve been frightened of his torch, he laughed, his head throwing back.

“What a coward!” Rex scoffed. “Keep running away like that, and you’ll never win a fight pit such as this one.”

Little did Rex know, Terry had paced right behind his back while he was still laughing, standing not too far from him. Playfully, he poked his opponent’s shoulder from behind, taunting him with a soft, almost whispering voice. “Hey, hey… I’m right behind you,” the hat-wearing bruiser quipped. “Don’t feel so confident yet. Can you even smell what the wolf’s cooking?”

At both the poke and the whispering quip, Rex leaped up in surprise, quickly turning in Terry’s direction. He clearly was taken aback, his eyes widened for a moment. “You… I thought you’d quitted!” he exclaimed, his finger pointing at his opponent. “That’s good to me because too bad for you, you’ll be the next victim of my decapitating jump kick!”

It did sound intimidating, initially, but upon execution, it was just a plain, simple leaping kick that Terry had encountered countless of times in the past. The only difference was its rigid movement that made Rex move more like a machine than he was a human. Reflexively, he covered his face and torso with his arms, managing to block his opponent’s deadly kick. Rex widened his eyes at the sight, gasping.

Shit… How come he didn’t react to my special technique?

Rex could only muse in disbelief, expecting the kick to slice Terry in half like it normally did to his opponents. Refusing to use different tactics, the champion of the Fight Palace continued to attack the three-time KOF champion with the same leaping kick over and over again, his movement stiff and clunky each time. Easily, Terry countered the barrages of kicks hurled in his direction, his defensive stance still maintained.

“Dude, you’re so predictable, y’know that,” Terry quipped, stifling a chuckle. “That all you got to show me?”

Rex was furious, frowning at Terry. He was still desperate enough to decapitate Terry with the same rounds of normal light kicks, sweats beginning to roll down his forehead. “Oh, shut up!” he shouted. “Why won’t you just die!?”

Terry couldn’t hold his snicker anymore, finding humor in Rex’s desperation. “Because legends never die,” he answered, then broke out of his defensive stance to hold Rex by his leading leg, “and that’s the bottom line.” And so, Terry pushed Rex aside, causing him to spin in circles. And just when the champion of the Fight Palace faced in his direction again…

POW!

Terry landed a clean uppercut against his mandible, launching his opponent backwards. Rex awkwardly collapsed, laying on his back. He coughed, spilling drops of blood out of his mouth. Finally managing to attack his opponent, the hat-wearing bruiser swung his fist excitedly, firing up the excitement of his steadfast supporters.

“Bingo!” he exclaimed, then looked down at his collapsing opponent. “I’ve touched you, and you didn’t do anything about it.” He thought that was only the beginning of their bout, so he offered Rex a hand. “Down for one more?”

Much to Terry’s surprise, Rex didn’t do anything. He gave no response, whatsoever, just laying still with eyes shut and lips partly parting. Seeing so, the three-time KOF champion scratched his cheek, his face puzzled.

Huh? he wondered. Really? I thought my uppercut wasn’t so harsh. He couldn’t have been knocked out, could he?

After failing to show any signs of consciousness, Mondu finally decided that his champion had been knocked out. The bell rang aloud, signifying that the match was over. Both disappointed and angered, he commanded his pet shark to swallow Rex alive, which prompted Terry to “woahhh!!” at the graphic sight in shock. He tried to catch up with the verdant shark, wanting to free Rex but failing. The shark had already swam far. He could only wonder now how it even managed to breathe on the land, let alone swimming through the ground.

“Pathetic! I always knew he’s just a mortal weakling,” Mondu scoffed, his brow frowning. “Fine! If not even my best fighter can take down the little mutt…” Carefully, he raised out of his throne, his humongous frame hampering his movements. Oddly enough, it was revealed that his belly had a face of its own where he stored the retractable tongue from early on. “...I’ll do it myself.” His steps were heavy as he drew out of the throne, erupting loud thumping noises in his path. He tried to approach the three-time KOF champion. “I have to admit you are quite a guy, Terry Bogard. I challenge you to fight Mondu,” the fat man said. “Your legend is about to end. Do you have any last wish?”

Not even at the face of death did Terry show fear. He managed a confident smirk, readjusting his cap. “Last wish?” he asked back. “Well, my last wish is to kick your ass and become the new King of the Fight Palace. Does that sound like a lot?”

Mondu returned the smirk, amused by Terry’s optimism. “So be it,” he challenged. “Only if you’re lucky.” As the bell rang, the fat man curled himself into a gigantic ball, spinning in Terry’s direction. Just as he did with Rex’s torch, the hat-wearing bruiser simply sidestepped, letting Mondu’s curling frame continuously collide with the barricade behind. Terry’s fangirls continued to chant for him, while the yokais were still occupied with the betting game in front of them.

“See? I told you Terry was gonna win the first one,” said one yokai with a sense of pride. “It’s no diff, and it’s shown. Think I’m gonna go with him again.”

“Yeah, me, too,” the other agreed with a nod. “Gotta place a higher bet this time. I’m all in for our boy Hat Ken.”

“Yeah, maybe I was wrong about him not being as strong as Kyo and Iori,” another one agreed, scratching the back of his bald head. “Yep, I’m all in, too!”

However, the one siding with Rex still insisted. “Yeah… Nope! Mondu’s the best fighter across the galaxy, don’tcha know?” he argued. “He’s also the final boss of this game dojo. Terry’s only the best in South Town. How many big tournaments has he won in recent years? Exactly, none! He’s been taking a backseat to younger, cooler guys like Kyo and Iori for, like, forever. I think the winner is obvious here.”

Despite the chattering noises, Terry still didn’t seem to mind anything that the yokais or anybody by the sidelines was saying. He stood right across Mondu’s curling frame, blue eyes fixating on the sight of his opponent spinning away from the barricade. The fat man launched himself faster than he did before in Terry’s direction, only to be greeted by the same outcome. Now, he found himself stumbling upon his throne, continuously grazing his spinning frame against its metallic one until it toppled.

“Missed!” Terry quipped, then gestured an open hand at his curling opponent. “How long are you gonna spin around like that, anyway?”

Hearing Terry’s quippy question, Mondu growled, uncurling his humongous frame. He turned around, facing the three-time KOF champion with a frown. “You talk too much, Terry Bogard!” he exclaimed. “Prepare to meet your end!” Again, the broad lips across his belly parted open, retracting the same large tongue he used earlier to wrap and bring his opponent close to his presence. Terry let out a loud “gwahh!!” like he did prior, as Mondu subsequently attacked him with barrages of alternating fists. Initially, he flinched, but as the fat man continued to bombard him with punches, he began to laugh. He started squirming uncontrollably, much to Mondu’s chagrin.

“What’s wrong?” the fat man asked, his voice a hint of exasperation. “Why are you laughing?”

“Aww, cut it out, man! You’re tickling me!” Terry answered with a raised voice, managing to speak between laughters. “I thought you were supposed to be the strongest in the galaxy. Do you seriously think you can beat me with those punches?”

Mondu huffed, still insisting on punching Terry. “Shut it, mortal!” But then, the longer he bombarded his opponent with the same punches, the more he felt worn down. His fists weakened, and eventually, he uncurled them. He took a moment to catch his breath, hands on both hips and sweats decking his forehead. “Dammit…” he muttered. “Why can’t you just die??”

Terry grinned. “That’s when you make a mistake.” Then, he charged a miniscule amount of ki-energy into both his thumb and index, making them glow red. He used them to pinch Mondu’s tongue, playfully twisting its smooth, crimson surface. The fat man reflexively reacted to the scorching pinch with a deep groan, quickly pulling his tongue away from the three-time KOF champion. Terry landed on both feet, finally freed. “And, oh, need I repeat what I told your homeboy early on?” he asked before attacking the flinching Mondu with a backspinning kick to the gut, sending him towards the barricade behind his toppling throne. He bounced forth, only to be welcomed by a hard-hitting shoulder tackle from Terry.

SMACK!

“OVERHEAT…” he exclaimed, then flailed Mondu’s ample torso with a leaping uppercut, sending the latter flying with him. “...GEYSER!!!”

KA–BOOM!

Landing first atop the ground, Terry flailed the sandy surface to summon a surge of energy geyser, adding a finishing touch to his desperation move. A gauge stock was used, an enormous quake emerged, and the geyser managed to prevent Mondu from reaching the ground. It instead sent him colliding against the billboard perching by the farther back of the arena, displaying an obnoxious gnashing face similar to that of his belly’s. The billboard fractured and electrocuted him, subsequently knocking him out cold. The notorious fat man descended, then limply collapsed on his hip, both of his tongues spilling out. Once everything was said and done, the bell rang one final time.

DING! DING!

At long last, the victor was ruled. Half of the crowd roared in excitement, and so did Terry. As he posed by the center of the arena, he tossed his iconic cap towards the hysterical fangirls, listening as they fought to catch it. “Alright!!” he exclaimed, then revealed the exact same cap from his pocket, sporting it around the golden crown of his head. “You’re a fat, fat guy, Mondu! Looks like I’m the new King of the Fight Palace now, huh?” He glanced at the unconscious Mondu ahead, then back at his wrist, as if looking at the watch that was never there. He patted the imaginary watch with two fingers, then glued it to his ear before turning to face the fangirls and the celebrating yokais. “Five seconds!” he shouted exaggeratingly, placing both of his hands beside the corners of his lips. He then pointed a finger. “Clip that, y’all!”

Terry smiled from ear to ear, the loud cheers from his steadfast supporters never failing to excite him. If they were entertained, he, too, felt entertained. Perhaps, Ryo was right when he told him that he was still loved and adored outside of the KOF dojo, as he was treated more like a reigning champion anywhere else but the place he’d considered his home for a long time. Yet, despite all the enthusiasm, he still failed to shrug away the feeling that something was off. Something was clearly lacking from him, but he couldn’t quite point out what. Whether it was the absence of his loved ones or his unusual aggression or the possibility that he was supposed to live a different life according to Pit, he wasn’t so sure which one of them was close to his concern. Heck, he wasn’t even sure if it was the combination of them or none of them at all. His smile faltered, and he could only sigh and ponder in the midst of the deafening crowd, blankly staring at his hands.

Gosh, it’s that feeling again. I still wish you guys were here.

FIN.

With the hunt complete, and the spirits of the various casualties of it gathered up, the poachers headed back to the stagecoach, with Edward easily being able to find it again due to his mental connection to the magical minions he had pulling/escorting it. As they traveled, Edward wrote up a note, and then upon mounting up once more, sent their one remaining pal sphere along with said note (which requested the sphere be delivered to one Dr. Yu for reverse engineering purposes) back to the armory.

A short ride later and they found an appropriate sheltered place to stop, at which point Edward got to work.

With the help of Ace, he scrounged up some suitable plant fibers for crafting and then, combining them with scraps of fur, bone, and leather gained from felled beasts and reavers, constructed a set of harnesses for their captured Reindrix.

After that was sorted, the Dreadnought gathered all the pal-spheres and started to release the Pals within one by one. He first got Blazermate’s help in healing the wounds their capture had resulted in, before he strapped them into the new harnesses, and attached said harnesses to the long chains at the front of the stagecoach, only after which he released the next one. Well aware that the beasts were entirely capable of firing ice missiles despite being chained up, the healing was accompanied by an offering of roasted nuts retrieved from the armory by way of peace offering. Making 5 portions go 8 ways, it wasn’t exactly a feast, but it signaled the intent to look after them at the very least.

Once they were all hooked up, he then finally pinned the two front spikes to his inferno steed, giving the 2 chains of Reindrix a burning frontrunner to light their way (and also stopping the two teams from splitting up and trying to run in different directions).

Once that was all done, he dismissed the two sets of bronze golems, and replaced them with a pack of inferno hounds, keeping the remaining mana cells in reserve for designating targets for the seekers, as he wasn’t going to be much use in combat during the rest of their time on the road.

This, of course, was because he’d be the one driving.

From his perch at the front of the stagecoach (sat atop the straps holding the weapons he’d retrieved from his inferno steed) Edward grasped the bundled up ends of Reindrix’s reins, and prepared to get moving. Tugging on those would be more suggestions than anything, and as such the man was primarily relying on the pal sphere’s binding properties, and his front running inferno steed leading the way, to get them to go where he wanted.

Still, it definitely wasn’t a process he was going to leave to remote control, hence his seat in the driver’s chair.

After giving five minutes of advance warning, Edward called out ”All aboard, we’re heading out!” and then soon enough they were on their way.

The eight great beasts (plus one magical inferno hound) certainly did a better job than his 4 constructs had. Too good, even, at least at first, as the man had to immediately tug on the reins to stop them storming off at break neck speed, and even then it took a bit of getting used too. This wasn’t helped by the twisty turny roads leading down to the zoo, that was for sure.

Fortunately enough, Edward had time to get a handle on things without any harassment from the local wildlife, though reports of twisted wolves certainly indicated that it was only a matter of time till they ran into trouble.

All too soon, that time came, and it presented a new challenge of handling. Namely that while the Reindrix had rather quickly adapted to cantering along while chained to the stagecoach, the prospect of being trapped together while under attack by blighted apes was an entirely different situation, and they did not like it at all.

Some tried to bolt, some tried to shoot icy projectiles, and one even tried to ram straight towards the incoming apes, all of which caused the stagecoach to veer to and fro in a way that would make it a terrible place to fight from. The plaza was, at least, large, and so Edward could veer away from the cages that had contained the blighted beasts, and between a few of the other wagons.

In doing so, however, they ran straight into the ambush of a pair Lurking Carcasses. One slammed into the inferno steed, and got mauled with igniting fangs for its troubles. The other struck a juicier target, as it hurled itself into the side of the front right Reindrix, slashing at it with hideous claws with inhuman strength.

It jerked away in response to this, crying out in pain, crashing into the one beside it and threatening to cause a massive bloody pileup. It was only Edward’s escorting inferno hound duo being sent to blindly charge into the threat that got them off of the pulling team and gave Edward the time he needed to circle them back around towards the entrance. Time to use his feather staff striker to heal the wounded Reindrix. Time for him to plan.

As he pulled them around to the entrance he told the Reindrix ”Steady, steady. Hold fire til my mark” in a calm and commanding tone. This, and the fact that some of the seekers were now more between them and the hostiles than they had been at the start, seemed to do the trick, and there was no wild bucking or frantic firing. Instead he gradually slowed them down to come to a stop.

As they slowed, the Dreadnought surveyed the situation through his inferno steed’s eyes, letting him get a look at things even as his view was obscured by cage bars. It meant that once all the Reindrix had a view of the enemy, but even before he was, the man had a target. One that he promptly marked with his magic.

Atop one of the tilted cages a blighted ape was ripping up and hurling the broken bars like primitive spears at the seekers fighting the others down on the ground. It paused in its latest hurl as the world turned blood red as Edward cast Designate Targeted on it. A moment later its world went ice blue followed by black as a rapid fire barrage of 12 ice lances came flying at it with enhanced accuracy, the four Rendrix on the side facing it all unleashed their Ice Missile skill all at once in response to a point and a shout from their driver.

Horrifyingly, the blighted ape didn’t actually fall in response to this, even if its face and front were perforated beyond recognition where spear sized spikes of ice weren't still sticking out of it. Its attempt to back blindly out of danger did at least take it out of the immediate fight however, as it promptly fell off the back of the cage in the process of doing so.

With that dealt with, and no more obvious targets that would not risk friendly fire, Edward wanted to take a leaf out of Sandalphon’s book and to take up a sniping position (the magic rifle he’d sold her seemed to be working out quite well for her, he noted, looking forward to hearing about how her experiment was going) but with the presence of other threats lurking, he couldn’t afford to let go of the reins. The one behind them was at least dealt with, as the burning lurking carcasses were vaporized in a fiery explosion as the inferno hounds vented heat into them.

As the pair moved to catch up and guard the rear of the stagecoach, Edward stuck to support, designating targets and having the Reindrix perforate any mandrills that tried to take the high ground with Ice Missiles.

Soon enough, it was over, and the stagecoach could move forwards, a little more cautiously this time. For the briefest moment Edward was sure that they were about to be attacked by a great hairy beast, but it turned out the mammoth was only a model. Curious as to why it was this instead of a taxidermy, Edward had his inferno hounds wander over to plaque for the model. Their ambient heat melted the frost coating it, and upon it he read that apparently the great beasts were extinct in the world this zoo had come from.

A shame, even though they still lived on those in the astral sea, and, also, almost certainly somewhere out there in Galeem’s world.

Behind the mammoth was a resilient metal door, one that Edward briefly considered portal dodging through in order to see if they were simply barred from the other side, before thinking better of it. Who knew what horrible creatures could be found beyond? Better not to risk it, he decided.

Instead he parked them before the door, before suggesting ”We may as well give the Reindrix some rest here, rather than try to drive through the narrower halls of this place”

He wasn’t about to unharness them, mind, and instead lined them up so that they could either go through the door, or loop around the other side of the mammoth if trouble came knocking. He wasn't so paranoid as to not let them lie down however (which incidentally gave him an idea about how to increase the firepower of their broadside)

He also used a few mana cells to build 3 scout squads, sending them out to explore the place, seeking a route to the other side of the door. They’d not be able to open it themselves however, or get past any hostiles, but at the very least he could find where the obstructions lay before they collided with them. Something he could relay to Sandalphon and which she in turn could inform any scouting seekers of.

He himself meanwhile took his time chatting with her, inquiring ”How are you finding the rifle so far? Feeling any significant synergy with it so far?” while also inspecting the Reindrix’s harnesses and general disposition and health, especially that of the one that had gotten clawed.

After the light fated, Amatarasu found herself in a rocky canyon. A small bright red painted bridge reached across a babbling brook on one side of her, which passed by a similarly painted Torii gate accessed by a much simpler wooden arch of a bridge. Smooth river stones stacked atop each other, a stone bench, and red wooden standing lanterns also dotted the vista.

That was all to one side. To the other, a still glowing void where shadowed shapes could be dully seen, just visible enough to show that she had an audience, but not visible enough to be distracting.

Here, in this holy place, she would face herself. Or, well, another Amaterasu anyway. This one was human shaped, wielding a bow and her own floating sundisk hovering behind her back. She briefly wondered about what this meant about the nature of all worlds, that the… idea of her was present in more than one of them. She also wondered what Galeem’s influence was doing to the other goddess to prevent her from being as uncomfortable with this situation as she was.

Then again maybe her opposite was just as good at hiding her discomfort as she was as well.

At any rate, she didn't get much more time to ponder, as the voice of Anubis boomed through the area, declaring that the fight was “Amaterasu VS… Amaterasu” which prompted her opponent to twirl her sundisk and notch an arrow while saying something out of which the divine wolf only caught the word “Okami”

She was a bit too busy being confused/incredulous about how her ink pots were for some reason locked to a single full container, and that the rest weren't filling up.

She was interrupted by a cough and a shout-whispered “You should show off a little before we start. It’s tradition” from her opposite.

The wolf cocked her head to side, and then promptly howled to the heavens, at which point, the match begun, and music began to play

The woman immediately opened up by firing the notched arrow across the field, a golden aura shimmering around it as it flew. In response the wolf tried to dodge to the side, only to slam into an invisible barrier that made the image of the shrine to the side shimmer and wobble. It was all an illusion, rather than any sort of true transformation or transportation.

The divine wolf was a bit too busy being shot and hit stunned by the arrow she’d been unable to dodge to be aghast at this paltry parlor trick being used by these ‘gods’ and then too busy being smacked by the long lower end of the woman’s bow. The woman then finished her little combo by flicking her sun disk forward and used it to ‘grab’ the wolf, raising her up before her before tossing her forwards.

The wolf slammed into the ground, but quickly picked herself back up. As she did so she growled in frustration that apparently they had failed to mention that her godhood, the barrier of protection that usually shimmered around her, would be disabled for this fight as well. Thus those three hits, that would normally have been absorbed by said godhood, had been actually hit and actually hurt her.

She was more frustrated at the limited movement than hurt however. There wasn’t going to be any circling around this foe, as her wolfish instincts desired. It was going to be face to face, goddess vs goddess, with only blocks and strikes.

And jumps.

As the woman closed in, she ducked down low, sweeping her bow in a low sweep, prompting the wolf to hop up over it. In response the woman shot an arrow up, again briefly hit stunning the wolf, before also performing a rising kick, wreathed in flame, that resulted in her also doing back flip as the wolf slammed down.

Maybe not so many jumps then, the wolf corrected. As she rose again the woman closed in again, leaping into the air and swinging her bow again in a wide sweep, perhaps anticipating another attempted jump dodge.

Taking a leaf out of her foes book, she fired her own projectiles in response to this aerial, blasting fourth not one arrow but a machinegun barrage of prayer beads that slammed into the foe, disrupting her strike.

Then, before she could even land, she closed the distance, sun disk flicking down and then up in a rising strike that slapped the woman up just enough that she wasn’t allowed to touch the ground, before bodily ramming her, knocking her back and away to tumble to the floor.

Naturally, that wasn’t going to get close to putting her down, as the other Amaterasu rose up while saying that “ah, good, you do have some fight in you” with a grin of the fighting mad that was going to become oh so familiar over the next few days.

The wolf with no voice didn’t respond, but she did note that half an inkwell had filled up, which must be what Anubis meant by ‘divine power charging’ and that it must be done via dealing damage to the foe. Which raised the question of what it would mean if her opposite charged hers up faster. She did not want to be on the opposite end of her celestial brush techniques, or perhaps worse.

As such she closed in to try and regain the advantage, grasping her massive sword in her maw, heaving it back for a brief charge and then slamming it forwards. The mighty blade swung forwards, only for the woman to raise her bow and block the blow at just the last second, the weight and power behind the blade entirely nullified by the thin length of flexible wood.

A godly guard.

The retaliatory combo was another lesson hard learned.

Still, the wolf was a quick study, and in the middle of it managed to recover enough to thrust her divine disk out in front of her, which clashed with the woman’s own. The impact of divine metal on divine metal rang out like a chime of a golden bell that sounded loud as a gong, before the wolf lunged forward, grasped the woman with her jaws, and leapt up.

The pair spiraled into the air, surrounded by swirling flames, and then flipped and came right back down again slamming the woman into the ground while the wolf landed on her feet.

The woman joined her there a moment later, still not looking too worse for wares. But the wolf was getting the hang of this. A feel for how this game worked.

When they moved to clash again, she whipped out her divine beads in a long reaching chain, striking swiftly if weakly, lashing her foe with the surprisingly quick strike. Then she delivered a second, and a third, before switching things up and grabbing her sword for the fourth hit, charging it while the woman attempted to block the fourth whip that did not come. She then slammed the blade around in a powerful side sweep, smashing her foe back, before swiftly stabbing the blade forwards in a twirling dive that struck her once more before she hit the floor.

Then she backed off, gave the women a moment to stand, before blasting her with a volley of beads and knocking her down again.

The woman was certainly looking worse for wear when she stood a second time, and she certainly tried her best to fight on, but the wolf was simply too fast. Showers of blows rained down, the wolf mixing up her weapons and also throwing the odd claw, kick or bite, to keep her foe off guard and unable to perfectly block her strikes.

In the end, the wolf filled the fourth ink pot, and then promptly showered the arena with a trio of two meter wide cherry bombs, using her beads to hit stun her opposite till the fuses burnt out, and then leapt back as the other Amaterasu vanished in the resulting spectacular lightshow.

As the firework glow faded, the other Amaterasu was on the floor, and, this time, at last, failed to rise.

This other Amaterasu might not have proved herself godly in combat ability, the woman simply too slow and clunky to keep up with the wolf’s smooth moves, but in terms of durability? Divine endurance indeed, the woman’s form unmarred by the blade blows, burning bashes and stinging lashes the wolf had rained down.

It wasn’t enough to win, even if Anubis did announce that “And winner is… Amatarasu!” before the divine vision faded and both Amaterasus returned to the worn down dojo with its piles of shrines

When they did, a little angel fluttered over and dropped a trio of lovehearts onto the fallen god. They were absorbed into her, revitalizing her and prompting her to stirred from her spot on the floor with a muttered “thank you cupid” before picking herself back up, and then bowing to her opposite.

“You’re quick as can be, aren't you? It was a pleasure to fight you” she said, before giving a bow, which the wolf mirrored. She’d certainly learnt a lot, and she owed her double that at least.

“A quite conclusive match, after a turbulent beginning, I judge” Anubis said, to which Zeus agreed with a laugh and n “I’ll say!” and saying “welcome aboard, Amatera-two” which got him a glare from the wolf.

Not at all discouraged by Amatera-two’s wolfly stare, the god of thunder gestured a finger to the other side of the dojo and said “now, how about we see how your friend there is doing?” prompting her to turn to angel’s bout with interest. Though not before receiving her own gift of heart based healing from Cupid.

As the bulk of the team spread out across the floors and wings of the Hall of Adventure, with the snarls and squelches of furious but brief combat against the carcasses grew fainter in the distance, Sandalphon absorbed everything she could about the new area. The Reindrix, now in the process of winding down after their involuntary involvement in the fight against the first wave of monsters, were very impressive up close. Though outwardly similar to caribou or elk, the puffy fur on their ears and tails gave them a oddly vulpine quality, and their icy antlers were nothing short of majestic. Sandalphon did not dwell on them beyond a cursory check-up, though, since animals were not her forte. Instead, driven partially by tactical necessity and partially by curiosity, she speed-read everything she could pertaining to the zoo itself.

Known as Krat Zoo, it seemed that this complex originally sat on the outskirts of the great city of Krat itself, though as a result of Galeem’s transplant the city itself was nowhere to be found. While she could glean that Krat seemed to hail from a world more advanced than her own but much less than Midgar, she couldn’t find much information on the city itself, since most of the material she found pertained to the zoo itself. Rather than clinically relaying animal facts in a dull and orderly fashion, the plaques, kiosks, and brochures she found presented the zoo to guests with a sort of theatrical bombast, embellishing and romanticizing not just the animals, but the proprietors of the zoo. The overarching narrative concerned one Colonel Little, a heroic gentleman explorer outfitted with curled mustache and pith helmet, who traversed the wilds of the world alongside his ‘eternal friend’, Rex the Crocodile, then returned home and built Krat Zoo to share his adventures with citizens young and old. Sandalphon studied a statue of the man briefly, noting his huge mustache and pith helmet as he beckoned visitors to join him on a grand educational tour. It sounded cheesy, but she couldn’t help but be interested. Just what had happened to this place?

After Edward dispatched a fresh wave of surveillance minions, the tactician stirred her from her silent observations. While both continued to watch for any signs of danger, he engaged her in light conversation about the weapon he’d sold her last night. “To borrow from automotive vernacular, it handles well,” she told him. “As a magic weapon, it feels far more natural in my hands than similar technological weapons. Without the need to compensate for physical projectile speed and bullet drop, I can be more ambitious with long-distance sharpshooting, limited only by the lack of scope. Usually, I detest random chance as a mechanic, especially in weapons. Reliability is vital; I must be able to utilize everything at my disposal without thinking. However, the transmogrification effect seems so potent that I’m willing to make an exception. As far as I can tell, it completely negates the target’s statistics when triggered. Depending on the specifics, the effect could turn the tide in any battle.” Considering the newfound power at her fingertips, however unpredictable, she would definitely treat the arcane firearm with respect.

”Ah so it was the weapon specifically that polymorphed the polar bear” Edward replied, mostly rhetorically, before commenting ”Quite powerful indeed. Particularly on something with such a high fire rate” as he had no such aversion to unreliable status effect application. All it took was volume, be it volume of firepower or volume of dice rolls on the individual shots. His own new rifle had 4 different ones being rolled on each shot, for example. Something was getting through with all those chances even if they weren't as individually effective as a fight ending polymorph.

”Still, what you’ve described seems more akin to familiarity with how the weapon handles than the specific fundamentals of the weapon. Or rather, that we’d need more data to eliminate that possibility. Some technological weapon that has similar projectile properties, if such a thing exists, perhaps?” He mused, making a few notes on the matter.

“While we’re here, I would like to ask you something,” Sandalphon told Edward. “I have been considering what we know of the rules that underpin this World of Light. That rumor about the Golden Order circumventing this world’s process of death is only the latest example of something defying the rules as we know them. In the interest of accounting for every possibility, I wanted to ask: are you personally aware of any individuals, from your home world, who managed to cheat death by transferring their consciousnesses -that is, their souls- out of their original bodies?”

”Cheating death is rather common… or, well, rather common at a state level, in the worlds of the astral sea, of which my home is but one. Most would act after death, rather than before it, however. To make preparations to cheat death preemptively, such that you can guarantee survival rather than relying on others resurrecting, reanimating, or reincarnating your using your body, you would either need to construct a Throne, or to become a godir,”

He then added context for those terms, explaining that ”A Throne is a physical anchor in the world that can be used to call the soul back and then reform the body. Typically an actual throne, as generally such an undertaking is only done for rulers and generals. A godir meanwhile is an individual whose soul is so heavily reinforced by magic that death merly sets their soul adrift in the astral sea rather than it being pulled to the well of souls where all the dead go.”

The exposition then continued, and was likely to continue for some time: ”Without a place for that godir’s soul go, however, be it back to their Throne, or to a neutral location which can resurrect them, such as Mage Haven, the soul would suffer the ‘Torment of Shadows’ which gradually twists them into a being of the astral sea. At that point it is a gamble as to if the soul retains any of its sanity, and becomes a being known as an ‘Eldritch Sovereign’, or utterly loses it and becomes a ‘lost wizard’. An eldritch sovereign can return, they are now functionally beyond death, a being of the astral sea rather than one of the worlds that float in it, but they are irreversibly changed in the process.”

”The godir plan is based on assuming the astral sea is even accessible. Given Galeem’s control over things and this ‘source engine’ it uses to populate the world I suspect that trying the same technique would be quite the gamble. The best bet, then, would be a Throne alone, but those require vast degrees of magic to produce. They are the pursuit of cities and nations, not individual sorcerers. Had we the resources, the extensive resources, piles and piles of crystalized mana, teams of assistants and artisans, I could construct one, but that is far more than the Seekers have at their disposal at the moment”

”Still, it is possible that others might have constructed these, or have had them pulled into this reality. It is possible to steal them, which is, or was, typically how Warlords and Rogue Lords of my home planet got their hands on theirs. Strike down the owner and then physically claim the throne before they can return, and they will suffer a true death, and you can take their place” he finally added, before giving a cough, apologising ”ah, my apologies for rambling on. Ultimately I think that the tensions such a throne might produce might be rather disastrous. Immortality is such a tempting thing, after all, and a conflict over who would be most worthy to claim it can only end poorly.”

Sandalphon wondered briefly if Edward had naturally just happened to use the royal ‘you’, or if he was more intuitive -or predisposed toward surveillance of allies- than he originally seemed. “Such means may not, however, be beyond Moebius. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can realistically do about such backups other than hope for the best, aside from dismantle them if we happen to learn of them. Since Moebius seem to suffer a ‘true death’ when eliminated and don’t return to the cycle, and they hold positions of rulership, they would be prime candidates for resorting to such methods.” Of course, since new Moebius would arise to replace any ones that did die sooner or later, the existence of death defiance only reinforced the idea that eliminating Moebius members would only ever be a temporary solution.

”Now there certainly is a group who’ve fallen for the temptation, and claimed it for themselves rather than because it better lets them serve the people. I’d certainly be unsurprised if they sought out additional failsafes” Edward replied, the man having been using ‘you’ mostly as an expedient. That and, because, well, he had used both methods in the life before this.

Sandalphon’s eyes had changed upon giving her explanation, but it had simply been to inverted triangles, which could really have meant anything, and so he took the explanation at face value. Mostly. No matter what anyone said, there were few who would truly turn down immortality itself, it was just the cost that got in the way of things, be it material or moral.

”How about yourself?” he instead asked Geralt

“Hm.” Geralt hummed, having taken up a spot of watch aside the carriage partway through their conversation. “Life beyond death is certainly something I've run into plenty of times, but to actually take a spirit and transfer it into another being? Only seen it once, and it went poorly.”

Stepping forward, Geralt continued. “I killed her. A woman, local legend claims, that brought three powerful witches into being, and slowly became mad with power. People sacrificed themselves to her, and those three witches killed her and sealed her spirit in a tree. Was sent to investigate deaths in the area of where she supposedly was, and found a being growing in the heart of a great tree.” Geralt took a breath, his pupils slowly narrowing to cat-like slits.

“And it begged me to free it. Claimed the witches, the crones, had betrayed and imprisoned her just like the stories. That they sent men to kill her, because she defied them.” His eyes flicked to the side, a flash of guilt. “I didn't trust her. Believed her. Didn't trust her, though. And, truth be told, I needed the crones’ help to find Ciri. Mind you, we killed two of them when we got the chance, they were monsters through and through, but…I needed their help. And I knew this thing would go after them if I let it. And who knows who else. So I killed it. It claimed to have a ritual that could have put its soul in a horse, but…I don't know what that would be. Or if it would even work, in my world or this.” He shook his head, and shrugged off another murder from his conscience, looking around.

“Place is interesting. Animals I've seen before, and plenty I haven't. Wonder how many worlds end up with similar creatures. The ones that came together millennia ago certainly didn't.”

Left with a grim cautionary tale in place of any usable information, Sandalphon could do little but look around the Hall of Adventure again once Geralt finished his answer. It seemed that many worlds offered grim fates to those brave, foolish, or desperate enough to try and cheat death. It was a natural and inescapable part of life, of course–under normal circumstances. Her impending fate, though, was unnatural, an unfair and unjust contrivance for the sake of control. If there were no good ways to cheat death out there, she would have to consider the consequences of a bad one.

With all the thoughts swirling in her head, she couldn’t come up with any sort of conversational reply to Geralt.

Luckily, Edward’s drones began to return about then. They’d found that the Hall of Adventure was more or less as she envisioned: huge, elaborate, and infested with grisly carcasses. Most of them belonged to former humans, but mandrills waited in ambush in certain hallways, clinging to ledges outside of windows they’d jump through in order to take prey by surprise. The newer west wing featured less overall damage, with more intact taxidermy displays as well as luggage and storage crates hoarded by those who’d tried to hole up there, now little more than unidentifiable mutated carcasses on the floor.

While the west wing didn’t seem to offer any alternate exits, the same could not be said for the east wing. It offered a large second-story balcony from which virtually any teammate could drop down and approach the big, heavy door from the outside. The door had indeed been secured by a set of heavy metal bars, but there were also a handful of strange, bulbous, growths. While these growths would explode like proximity mines if anyone got too close, they could be neutralized from afar for up to thirty seconds each.

To reach that balcony, though, anyone going through the east wing would have to contend with a horrible monstrosity. On the ground floor crawled a huge, lumbering carcass. Though the trunked face that drooped down from its skull like a half-shed cocoon painted it as an elephant, the hooved legs that hung from its hindquarters were foreign to the rest of it. Dragging those malformed, insufficient legs behind it, and unable to climb the stairs to the second floor, it staggered across the first floor restlessly, leaving a trail of sticky, corrosive decay behind it. Despite its sorry state, it would prove highly aggressive and capable of frightening short bursts of speed.

Sandalphon relayed the report to the crew. “White Team, be advised. East wing has a possible exit on the second floor. There is a large monster on the east wing’s first floor. Over.”

Having used her new powers to find and manipulate useful ores in the earth, Sectonia pulled a fair amount of coal and iron from the earth and with Ed's armory access, placed it into the Avenger. She then spent the next fair amount of time resting, not really interested in the other goings on of what was happening until some Reavers attacked the coach, which she defended with her magic, Antlers and support from Blazermate and Sandalphon, with some help from Ganondorf.

As they continued, they came across another place called the Hall of Adventure where mutant, almost corpse looking animals patrolled about in a place called the Krat Zoo. While Blazermate would like to go look for things with the others, first they had to get rid of all these hostile creatures and as such, she began to overheal people and stay out of the way of these things. Sectonia, not wanting to get into range of them either, used her ranged magic and her antlers as a buffer between the seekers and these creatures. Although even her Rings of Light weren't all that final here, as even cut apart, these things still moved. Her Antlers did some work themselves, smashing or bashing things that got near with their maces and shields, but these things wouldn't stay down unless they were completely annihilated. This would soon be an advantage of the seekers though.

As Sectonia's Antlers and her own spells sliced up or smashed some of the mutated animal corpses and their bits started to reanimate, Blazermate got an idea. She used her suffering shield's ability to manipulate the undead to see if it worked, and it did! While these bits of various animals had various but less effective powers over the whole, she could use these reanimated parts to distract or possibly overwhelm another mutant, adding another corpse to her zombie horde as they fell. This in turn made things easier for Sectonia or the other seekers to push into the mutants, and at some point either there would be a mass accumulation of parts that would make more than they lost, or the place would be cleared out. Either way, as the fight went on, it got easier and easier as more and more reanimated mutant bits joined the Seeker's side thanks to Blazermate, even though the ability was quite ghastly.

"Hopefully once this is all cleared out we can go looking for things. We'll have an army of... well... not saying I'm happy about it but an 'army' to protect us for a little while as well." Blazermate said, having to give uniform orders to everything at a point as there were lots of bits to command all at once.

---

Joining a dojo... Well, Roland had found one he was vaguely interested in so might as well get that done. Often Fixers swapped offices as they went up in grades, so this would just be that but hopefully much faster. As such, he entered the dojo Last Bronx. While he wasn't expecting much, this place looked much like a nicer backstreets establishment but still less than a low grade fixer office or workshop.

Applying for a spot in this dojo was more straightforward than Roland figured, but also a bit different than he figured. Instead of having him fight someone to join, they did something more akin to what a fixer office would have you do... well, after the paperwork was done. They had him do a little task for them. It was picking up some weapons for them from outside the city, something he could do as the guards of Eseka wouldn't recognize Roland as he came and went, but it was odd that they didn't go pick up these 'critical tournament weapons', but once Roland got his hands on them and seeing they were molotvs, switchblades, and other stuff like that, perhaps they didn't want to be seen bringing in such things? That or smuggling them in could be illegal or something.

Regardless, Roland did his job and got his spot in the dojo. And unlike the people here, he didn't have any need for these weapons. Really he wasn't sure how he'd use most of these as his weapons were just better.

The abandoned zoo was a death trap. That much was a certainty from those that had chosen to go near it, and thus it was an oddity for any single figure to approach it on their own. And yet despite that, there was one individual who chose to do exactly that, their white hair blending in with the snow that covered the ground around them as they walked through the zoo without a single care for the threats that awaited inside. For Mokou, this was simply another run of the mill job of hers. In the days… No, months that she had been wandering, she had come across a handful of dangerous creatures of all varieties. None of which had truly managed to scare her… After all, they only posed a threat to something that could die. As such, when she came across a group of travelers that had begged her to help some vikings that were requesting help from within the zoo, she had taken it in stride. It was her self proclaimed duty, and at the very least, it might have alleviated her boredom.

Unfortunately for her, the exciting trip to the zoo had, at the moment, lead to her being rather let down. At first she was intrigued by the various smaller, mutated creatures that attacked her leading up to the compound, but even outnumbered they posed little threat. As it turned out, a wave of fire was more than sufficient to handle a pack of wolves surrounding her. In truth, by the time she had made it inside the zoo, she was more focused on the remnants of what once was than the dangers that lurked within.

“Yo! Vikings! Anyone around here?” Mokou called out, a hand in her pocket as she made her way across the snow covered boardwalk, her white hair blurring together with the white ground. For each step she took, a small patch of snow melted beneath her shoes, remnants of the fire sorcery she had been employing. Her tone indicated boredom, an uncaring call to anyone that could hear regardless of the danger such an act would provide. Of course, her voice was heard, but not by those she was calling for. As she walked across the boardwalk, her steps came to a halt as she surveyed the scene ahead of her… And specifically at the two mutated beasts that had jumped onto the walkway to confront her. Despite their horrific changes, Mokou could barely make them out to be a pair of kangaroos, with tangled horns and exposed stomachs. It was a minor note, but it at least told her what to expect from them… Right before one of them curled into a ball and launched itself at her, the other following along with murderous intent in their hops.

Without wasting a beat, Mokou’s eyes narrowed, before she suddenly leapt into the air, smoothly cartwheeling over the rolling kangaroo, her free hand outstretched towards the beast beneath her, and with a snap, a stream of fire erupted forth, enveloping the kangaroo as they screeched in pain, tumbling out of their roll in a panic as flames engulfed their body. With the first handled, Mokou landed on the floor, turning around to meet the second kangaroo and quickly bending backwards as the beast’s tail flew overhead. A small breath escapes Mokou’s lips as her free hand touches the ground beneath her, before she suddenly twists her body around, launching a spinning kick at the kangaroo’s head, a trail of fire following her foot.

In the same motion, Mokou pushed herself off the ground, flipping herself in the air and pointing her free hand directly in front of the kangaroo’s face as they recovered, her fingers already positioned to snap. And as before, a stream of fire erupted from her hand, this time concentrated directly into the beast’s head, completely incinerating it within moments. With that, Mokou finally lands back on her feet, her second hand still in her pocket as she turns to face the other kangaroo that had managed to scramble to its feet, its fur singed from her fire. Yet it barely managed to turn around before Mokou made a small motion, a ring of fire forming beneath them before, after a moment, erupting into a column of flames, a horrific howl emanating from the flames before it quickly became quiet, the column dispersing to reveal nothing but ash.

Mokou looked back at the burnt circle for only a few seconds, before she turned back on her heel, continuing her walk as she brought her hand to her mouth to keep calling out to any vikings that may be around. If they didn’t hear her voice, then they must have at least seen the fire she had been creating. Such a thing would be hard to miss with the frozen backdrop of the place.

Wandering throughout the city, and taking in the sights, Zenkichi got to enjoy a little taste of home. It was certainly on the rough side, with the middle and high tiers more resembling a proper Japanese city, but the overall theme of Esaka was still very much Japanese. He meandered around, passing the records store that had so miserably disappointed Junior and Rika, Clean Hits. He paused outside for a moment before shaking his head and carrying on. He’d never been a huge fighting game guy at the arcade, anyway. And he certainly wasn’t some record-obsessed old man.

The city of fighters was, predictably, a fairly lively place, though thankfully there weren’t brawls going on all around. That being said, he did catch sight of a big-ass yokai fighting Amaterasu and Pit, but they more than had it covered, so he moved on to other sights. Food stalls catering to the late breakfast crowd, offering breakfast, brunch, and even some lunch items, alongside coffee for those unlucky enough to have gone without until now.

It wasn’t long before he found what he was looking for, however, and as he approached a stall with a few weird-looking robots in it. Above them were the banners for the various tournaments, and Zenkichi paused for a moment to think about which he’d end up joining. Mulling over the various logos, he decided on Tekken. Approaching the booth, he greeted the robot, which replied flatly, “Good morning, prospective fighter. Are you here to register for a tournament?”

”Yeah, I am.”

“What is your name, which dojo do you represent, and which tournament would you like to enter?” It followed up, just as flatly as before.

”Zenkichi Hasegawa. I represent Ultra Fight Da Kyanta, and I would like to participate in the Tekken tournament…uh, I think the official name was the King of Iron Fist?”

“I am familiar with the colloquial name of the King of Iron Fist tournament, prospective fighter, but your attention to detail is commended. I will record your information for confirmation of eligibility. You are free to return to your previous course of action. Have an excellent day.” Efficiently dismissed, Zenkichi gave the combot a nod before stepping away for another registrant to sign up.

”Hey, everybody, it’s Zenkichi. Just an update, I’m all signed up for a tournament. So, uh…we wanna get lunch once we’re all set up?” Terry had brought up the suggestion earlier, so he figured it’d be a good idea to bring it up.

Having been teleported quite a few times by a variety of means, Pit could tell that despite the new surroundings he hadn't actually gone anywhere. He and his opponent, the warrior goddess called Athena, must still be within the dojo, even if it seemed like the area was now a wide stone platform with matching carved pillars circling the edge, forming an amphitheatre in which only the two combatants squared off against each other.

Athena twirled her spear in hand and then slammed the butt of it down onto the stone floor. Pit summoned his bow to his hand at the same time that Athena thrust her shielded arm out towards the angel to declare the start of the battle. "Prepare yourself, servant of light!"

A self assured smile was on Pit's face as he separated the weapon into halves and kicked things off with a flourish. "Let's go!"

Pit dashed towards Athena, and she let him come. Utilizing the longer reach of her own weapon she struck out as soon as he was within her range, looking to catch the angel with a series of powerful forward jabs. It was easy to see coming, though the first attempt at dodging made it clear to Pit that this arena, illusory or not, was narrower than it appeared. That was fine, though - he could fight like this just fine! Avoiding the spear, Pit leapt up and over a sweep aimed at his legs and brought his swords down in an overhead chop. Athena's shield was there to block the blow almost instantly, and the clash ended in a stand off before the two went at it once more.

Not long at all after the trial began, Pit felt a much more preferable divine power reach out to him as Palutena's remote viewing fell over the dojo as a whole. She looked in on both of the Seekers' matches with keen interest, but unsurprisingly her attention was more focused on her ward's battle.

It's been a while since you've done a divine trial, hasn't it, Pit?

Yeah, besides the work you give me! He responded, ducking under a high, quick jab from his opponent's spear. Of course he was just joking around, as he was happy to do anything his own goddess asked of him. Palutena chuckled.

Looks like this time you're facing Athena. She's a famous and powerful figure in her home land. Most often she takes a guiding role, but it looks like this one's decided to fight.

If she's more of a backseat driver I should try and overwhelm her with my battle experience!

He'd already been on the offensive, but at that revelation Pit ramped up his attacks. He threw himself at Athena again and again, a flurry of blue and gold blades that glanced off of the goddess' shield or armor, eventually breaking through little by little and cutting into the woman herself. At least until she began to get a feel for the angel's patterns, and with a grunt shifted her stance and caught the next swipe in a perfectly timed block. Her body flashed for just a moment, less than a second, and she suffered no damage whatsoever even to her equipment. Then she did it again. And again, until even Pit realized that strategy wasn't working. He parried her next strike and took the opportunity to hop backward and rethink his plan.

Not so easy it seems. Her godly guarding -which I think is more often called 'perfect guarding' around here- will be a challenge to get through. Speaking of that face on her shield looks awfully familiar doesn't it?

Uh, yeah! It's Medusa! I was wondering about that! Do you think she found her way into different worlds, or that there's more than one of her? I don't know which is worse!

Either way is a bit concerning. Let me check my encyclopedia...

While Palutena's attention faded slightly, Pit's was increasingly focused, especially when Athena launched her shield right at him. His eyes widened and he raised his swords to block, and though the shield crashed into them without touching Pit himself he could feel the sting of the impact. What was that called? Chip damage, or something like that? The shield bounced back onto Athena's arm and she rushed forward with her spear leading her charge.

Ooh, here it is. Some trivia won't distract you, will it Pit?

She'd returned when the two combatants were in the midst of trading blows, locked in an awkward melee. Athena's apparent strategy was a traditional, straight forward battle - whittle down her opponent's health until they simply could no longer stand. Pit fended off the spear as best he could while trying to get in closer. He just needed to down Athena for three seconds, so if he could get in one good knock down...!

Maybe- he started thinking back to Palutena, catching the tip of Athena's spear on the flat of one of his swords and swiping the other up to knock the weapon away. -but I feel like- As he moved in the face of Medusa came right for him, a shield bash that he took to the chest and forced him back to square one, contending with the spear again. -you'll tell me anyway!

Only because I know you're curious! Athena and her Medusa's stories are tightly woven. In her world, Athena sponsors a young hero to slay Medusa, a monster of her own creation. During his journey the hero obtains divine treasures and, with Athena's guidance, ultimately triumphs over Medusa. At least it's good to know she's thwarted in every world.

Pit managed to catch Athena off guard with a well timed quick summon of his own shields, the orbitars producing a vibrantly colored barrier that completely deflected the goddess' spear. The angel sprang forward, twisting his blades into a Spiral Sword technique and cutting into Athena's exposed form. It was a decent strike, enough to make the goddess stumble back, but she recovered quickly.

"Not good enough," she told Pit, swiftly backing up and sweeping her spear in a wide arc strong enough to send a wave of energy sailing towards her opponent. Undeterred, Pit gave chase. He slid beneath the spear wave and was back on his feet, and in Athena's space, right after.

I dunno why, but I kinda think I've heard that story somewhere before.

Really? Doesn't ring a bell for me.

It seemed that the internal conversation with Palutena really was distracting Pit, as he failed to notice that he'd been baited into his current position. He didn't have the benefit of any kind of meter, but Athena did - and with her Divine Power Gauge full she used her Warrior's Faith. Energy swirled around her limbs and body, increasing her strength. She knelt down and then swiftly brought her shield arm up into Pit, breaking through his hasty guard and launching him up. From there she flipped the grip on her spear, holding it like she was going to throw it like a javelin, and stabbed out at the angel in order to bring him forcibly back down to the ground.

Ugh! I forgot how strong those meter moves can be! Lady Palutena, can you give me a super meter too?

It would be pretty fitting while you're in the city of fighting. Hmmm, I'll think about it.

For the most part Athena's plan worked, but Pit was determined not to let his back hit the floor even once during this trial. He splayed his wings out, and just before impact he twisted, pressing his palm to the ground and flipping up onto his feet once more. Athena narrowed her eyes at Pit, appraising the maneuver, while he shot a cheeky grin at her.

"I've got my own techniques I've learned! That one's a tech!" he said. "And this one's...!" He slammed the hilts of his swords together, reassembling the bow once more and leaping straight at Athena. He spun the bladed bow in a sharp windmill in front of him, making Athena hesitate momentarily as she thought on whether to block, attempt to dodge, or strike out to interrupt his attack. She decided on blocked, and as the bow sliced into the gilded image of Medusa Pit used his momentum to push himself up and sail over her head, landing right behind Athena. "A cross up!"

Athena spun around, under the assumption that Pit would try and put at least a little space between them to begin his next attack and hoping to use the reach of her spear to whack Pit with the either the shaft or head as he moved. She was still working with the very last of her divine power up, so any successful hit from her was sure to hurt. However, Pit did not move. Instead he instantly summoned his orbitars again, and spear and shield collided. In the short moment that Athena recovered, Pit's free hand shot out and took hold of her arm. "And a shield grab!"

He yanked the goddess forward and then slammed her into the ground. Her chin collided painfully with the stone and her breath was very nearly knocked from her body. She's down! Now I have to keep her down for three seconds!

It was easier said than done, as in the heat of battle three seconds could almost feel like three minutes or longer. There was no way Pit was going to fail this trial though. He slashed at the goddess' back to complete his throw, keeping the pressure on while Athena attempted to get to her feet. She managed to roll over onto her back, putting her shield between her and Pit's blade. She could probably overpower him and rise at any time - she was a goddess after all. But she was in a low ranked dojo, with surprisingly mundane power showed off so far. She could be holding back, or... she could actually be pinned down by Pit's sword. A memory started to bubble up in Pit's mind, causing him to hastily disengage and hop backward once, twice, three times, away from Athena.

She rose, elegantly despite the situation she'd been in. Pit lifted his weapon in preparation to continue the fight, but Athena shook her head at him. "Enough."

"Oh." He blinked and lowered the bow, confused for just a moment. "Oh! Was that three seconds? Did I pass?"

He hadn't had a doubt that he would succeed, but it was nice to hear the confirmation from Athena as she let out an amused sigh. "You did. You fought well."

The arena shifted around them, fading back into the dojo's interior. All of the spectators reappeared too, and both Amaterasus were there, notably not battling each other. "Your companion has passed her trial as well."

"I knew she would!" Pit said, extending the same confidence he had in himself to his friends, of which he now counted Amaterasu among.

Pit smiled brightly at the wolf goddess, and at Sakura who'd stuck around to watch the whole thing. With the trials over with, they'd joined a dojo! Now all that was left was to sign up for a tournament and meet back up with everyone else! Sensing the boy's eagerness to get going, Zeus strolled over to give Pit a hearty slap on the back while Cupid made the rounds a second time to heal up the fighters. "Flying colors indeed, lad! We're happy to have both you and Amatera-two as part of Fight of Gods!"

Zeus then peered over at Sakura just in case the rousing matches actually did happen to make her consider swapping dojos. For Pit's part, after recovering from the good-natured smack and snorting a laugh at Amaterasu's new nickname he was already making his way back toward the door.

"Thanks! Glad to be part of it, I guess!" His gaze flicked to Athena, giving her a nod. "Now we've gotta go get registered!"

Sakura would probably be able to lead them towards the registration area, but even if she didn't know (the high tier probably had their own registration area after all) a call happened to come through from someone who was already there. So Zenkichi was the first to sign up then? Not surprising, he did kind of seem like a responsible guy. Once the trio of Seekers were all set at the Fight of Gods dojo and were ready to leave it behind for now, Pit pressed a hand to his ear and called out on the linkpearl in return.

"Pit here! Good going Zenkichi! Me, Sakura, and Amaterasu are on our way there now!" He could have left it at that, but after a moment he called the group again. "Which tournament did you sign up for? I think if we're trying to make it to the top it'd be better if we didn't all join the same one. That way there's more chances for one of us to win in all of them, right?"

It would also mean less fighting each other, since being part of the same tournament in different dojos must mean they'd be competing against one another. Normally Pit wouldn't mind, and even found the idea to be fun, but if they wanted to face the Heavenly Kings at the top of each tournament to get information on the Forbidden Kingdom's Guardian, it made more sense to him if at least one person was part of each tournament. They could chase down four leads at once that way. If everyone else agreed, they could split up what tourneys they all registered for to ensure they didn't all coincidentally join just one or two.

@Lugubrious

Harry Dubois

𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝒦𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾

[center]Word Count: 1952
Level: Lv: 6 EXP: (3/60)
Lv: 4 EXP: (5/40)
Location: Forbidden Kingdom - Esaka's Low Tier/ Crazy Earl’s Scrapyard

Both men left the shop and were walking down the street, with the two of them having a conversation about what Kim did before running into Harry. Kim mentioned he woke up in an alleyway, with no memories of how he got there. His investigation led him to Azuma. Azuma didn’t know the reason why Kim was here. But he could help Kim as best he could. And in the meantime, Kim would help Azuma with a few cases he was currently investigating.

“You were cheating on me?” Harry said with a sad tone in his voice. His blue lips curled, and he was giving Kim a sad puppy dog look.

“I was unsure if you were alive or not. Having another detective as my partner is not the same as being in a relationship. So technically, I was not cheating on you.” Kim said matter-of-factly.

Harry nodded as the two men turned the corner of a street. The two men noticed a small robot being beaten by some psychos. Harry felt like he should go in and try to save the defenceless robot. Starting to walk closer, noticing four psychos were beating the robot with various makeshift weapons. But he stopped in his tracks when he felt Kim’s hand on his shoulder.

“Maybe we should not get involved. There are too many of them, and we could be easily overwhelmed.” As Kim spoke, Harry shook his head. He felt like he should do the right thing and save the robot.

“We can’t just do nothing, we’re cops. We gotta bring law and order wherever we are.” Harry strutted his way towards the group, with Kim following behind to protect him. Kim suggested that they might need to call for backup. But his suggestion was dismissed because the other seekers would arrive too late to help them.

One of the psychos noticed Harry coming towards them. Another turned to look at what the first psycho was looking at. “Well, well, well, I thought the circus left town, but it looks like the clowns are still here.” One of them said gaining a high five from another ruffin.

“I am only going to ask you once, leave now, and you will not be charged for battery and assault with a deadly weapon.” Harry pulled out his badge. Kim rubbed the bridge of his nose when he saw that Harry was holding it upside down.

Almost all of them laughed, but noticed Kim was standing right behind him. They had a few frightening encounters with Detective Kitsuragi and Azuma. Two of the hooligans whispered something to each other. The thugs stopped beating the robot and were now huddled together. The two detectives could hear them whispering to each other and occasionally giving Kim worried looks. Kim returned this look with a rather menacing glare. A look Harry did not notice.

The psychos stopped whispering to each other and started backing away from the detectives. Harry smirked, puffing out his chest, feeling good about himself. Kim walked past him, helping the robot back up. The robot had been crawling through the air like a turtle. It was honestly quite sad.

“Thank you. I thought they were going to use me like a piñata. My name is CL4P-TP, but my friends call me Claptrap. Of course, they would if I had any friends. ” The robot rolled over towards the two detectives, holding out his hand for them to shake. Harry shook his hand, but Kim just gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Both men are introducing themselves to the robot.

“So why were they kicking the crap out of ya?” Harry asked.

“Well, I don’t know. They usually like to play fun games like that with me. My favourite is dodge the bullets. I’m good at that. But I guess I just attract bad dudes like a magnet.” The robot was rolling away into an alleyway with both men following behind it. The alleyway was barely furnished and was quite pathetic to behold.

“Welcome to my casa. Make yourself at home.” Claptrap rolled over towards a ruined couch. But Kim had to speak up and mention that they could not stay at his home.

“Unfortunately, we cannot stay long. We've got some business to attend to.” Kim felt bad for the robot because it seemed no one was caring for it. Harry, meanwhile, felt quite at home. Being a hobocop acclimated him to living and surrounding himself with filth, and feeling the same pity that Kim felt about the robot.

“Well, if you need any help, we’d be happy to assist you.” Harry said with a warm smile. Kim would usually try to dissuade Harry from undertaking “side quests.” But in this situation, they were not hard pressed for time. And besides, he didn’t mind helping Claptrap if it would make him happy.

The robot brightened at the mention of being helped. “Well, since you asked. I was wondering if you could do me a favour? I have lost some items while playing one of those games with the bandits. And I was wondering if you could help me find them.” Claptrap pulled out a piece of paper from inside a wet cardboard box. Handing the paper to Harry, who was starting to read what was scribbled on the paper.

Three items were listed: a pair of pink panties, a slice of pizza, and a bag containing Claptrap’s pet goldfish. The location of the items was in the nearby scrapyard. Harry was given a communication device so Claptrap could speak to them. They would have to be careful since the owner didn’t like trespassers roaming around his scrapyard. Both men eventually made their way to the scrapyard. Luckily, Kim knew where it was because he had investigated a few shady deals that had happened.

Both of them stood in front of the massive gate with a sign that barely hung on the chain-link fence. The sign read “BEWARE OF SKAGS.” With another sign above reading “Crazy Earl’s Scrapyard.”

“So, how do you wanna get over the fence?” Harry said while studying the gate. Kim was also studying the fence. But he was more worried about the dog.

“Let’s see if we can find a hole or opening we could use as an opening.” Kim suggested, and both men started walking along the fence looking for a way inside. Kim noticed a hole which he assumed some hoodlums had made while trying to enter. Harry was the first to enter the small hole, having to crawl on his hands and knees. Kim followed suit, but made sure he did not cut himself on the jagged wires.

The scrapyard was an utter mess and smelled as if many corpses were hiding underneath the piles of trash. Harry used the Echo device Claptrap gave him to figure out where to start looking. From what they were told, Claptrap had lost his items in the middle of the scrapyard under some discarded rubble. Both detectives carefully searched for this pile of debris, making sure the owner did not see them in the scrapyard. As they were searching, Harry noticed some trash that he could pawn off for money. He put this trash into his newly acquired backpack.

“There I see it. I hope they are located where Claptrap said they were left last.” Kim pointed to a large amount of debris. The search took about an hour or so, and when they found the last item, two humanoid like creatures came out from nearby piles of trash. The creatures noticed the two detectives and started rushing towards them. In that moment, talking their way out of the situation was out of the question. Harry put his pack on the ground, pulling out his pistol from the shoulder holster. He quickly took a shooting stance, ready to pull the trigger. But his hands were shaking violently, and he would miss his target. Kim was trying to unholster his weapon. However, the Trogs were moving too fast for him, and he could accidentally shoot Harry.

The creatures were quickly closing the distance, now a few feet away from Harry. It leaped towards Harry, who fired a bullet, but it missed being fired into the air. The creature’s claws ripping into the sleeve of his jacket. The attack was deep enough to tear into his skin. “@#$% it.” He noticed the second Trog coming towards him while the other was trying to claw at his legs. Harry retaliated by kicking this creature as hard as he could. Kim fired his pistol, shooting the first Trog in the arm. The creature reacted to the shot by recoiling backwards, now targeting Kim.

Harry aimed his gun at the second Trog, who was slowly recovering and was running towards him, remembering the advice his Savoir Faire and Composure had given to him before shooting the hangman’s rope. Time seemed to slow down as he took a few deep breaths. His finger pulled the trigger as the bullet pierced the creature’s skull. Its body quickly turned into a pile of ash. Harry turned around to help his partner.

The first Trog was moving quite fast, making it hard for Kim to hit his target. Its claws dug into Kim’s torso and arm, making him wince in pain. Harry slowly came out of his short daze to realize his partner was in trouble. Quickly moving, he picked up a garbage can lid, holding it like a comic book he used to read as a kid and throwing the can at the Trog before it could attack Kim again. The lid smacked into the face of the Trog, making it stagger once again, but it quickly recovered, slashing at Kim’s legs. Harry picked up a piece of rebar that was nearby. With an animalistic roar, he slammed the rebar into the head of the Trog.

It’s blood spraying all over Harry, with its body similarly turning into ash. He turned to his injured partner, remembering what Band had done with him to free up his heart. Harry dropped the rebar and put away his pistol. “Sorry, Kim.” He muttered before stepping closer towards Kim. “BUT I'M DOING THIS IN THE NAME OF FRIENDSHIP!!!” Kim was confused by what Harry meant, but was surprised by what Harry did next. The alcoholic detective didn’t want to damage Kim too much and have him become hostile. But only enough to try and free his heart from Galeem’s influence. Kim suddenly felt Harry’s hand smacking him in the face. At first, he was unsure of the reason for this, but he suddenly felt quite strange.

There was an extended period of silence before Kim spoke. “Harry…why did you do that?” He asked and was given the much needed “lowdown” he was looking for. Kim didn’t know what to say; all of this information was quite overwhelming. After Harry finished explaining, he adjusted his glasses with one hand. Being relieved, there was a reason he was here, but he was sad that some people he knew were gone. Something he noticed was how his wounds seemed healed after the slap. “Well, we have the items Claptrap wanted. But let's go see a doctor to tend to your wounds before going back.” Kim said, thinking of Dr.Zed, who would be perfect for fixing up Harry's wounds. In the distance, he heard someone screaming and the roaring of some sort of creature. The detectives hurried out of the scrapyard to find Dr.Zed.

As the kids traveled further west towards Shinjuku, the woods themselves began to thin out, but in their place the bamboo took over, growing thicker and larger till they had taken the place of the trees themselves.

This mass of growth turned out to apparently be focused around a place called Jade Creek (♫), a water feature featuring a fair bit more water than its name suggests, given the deep pools of crystal clear water dotting the area.

Pools that the kids, incidentally, were having to avoid as they dealt with the less than stellar road conditions.

If they could even be called roads.

”I don’t think this is actually a shortcut” Rika commented almost casually, to which her brother shouted back with exhilaration ”are you kidding me! We are going so fast!” which was technically true. In bursts.

This current burst was a result of the prince backing into a crystalline spring, that had sent them, or rather the Kuebiko, zooming down a hill, which smoothly arched up and down in a wave before they went into a stone loop de loop and went blasting straight downwards the side of a cliff towards the water below. That broke Rika’s composure and got her screaming alongside her brother, more in panic than exhilaration, before said brother hammered the metal attacker’s jump button and launched it clear off the wall.

Together they slammed into the back of the cockpit in order to add just enough spin that the machine landed on its wheels, and thus let the stellar suspension take all the impact. Before they could make a sigh of relief however, they had to kill the momentum.

To do that, they had to get past a bevy of obstacles.

The first was a squad of hostile robots similar to ones that they’d already run into along this road, most of which seemed to either be standing guard or heading deeper in. Never back in the way they’d come.

Jr dealt with this the same way he had the others. He held down the trigger on the Kuebiko’s weapon’s control stick and unleashed a blaze of energy bullets from the metal attacker’s bamboo barreled rotary cannon.

One of the two sword robots rolled right into this, chassis benign shredded. The second received Rika’s helbard chucked into it’s face as the ship girl leaned out the door. Both were then run down as the Kuebiko smashed bodily into one, and Rika Lanced the other one (having teleported the helbard back and shape shifted it just in time to make the strike).

The purple bot scratched the paint with its blaster, while the orange one tried to hit them with an extending lance, only for Rika to parry it with her helbard (once again shifted). Then they too were run over.

They’d wondered and speculated about what they were doing here at first, but by now dealing with them was routine. Plus, road-killing them had hardly slowed them down, and they still had problems up ahead.

First thing’s first, Jr jumped them over an impending block of stone, then had to accelerate as a thin bridge of it started to collapse under them, before jumping two more times to cross some floating platforms and then finally bringing them to a halt just at the edge of a cliff.

Then there was a cracking sound beneath them as the cliff failed to take their weight, collapsing in such a way that it formed a big block of stone, sliced from the cliff at a 45 degree angle, that slid down the resulting slope towards the water, with them on top of it. Jr gunned the engines and leapt again at just the right moment for them to go sailing over said water while the rock went splashing into it

They landed on top of an odd plant, which suddenly began spinning around, raising them up and up before stopping next to another. One that, once hopped onto, carried them out of the pit they’d slid into and back onto the path. Or as much of a path as existed.

A bit more platforming, because really, that’s what this all was, barring some speedy segments, however, led them to an actual path. One clear cut through the bamboo, and freshly too. Off in the distance was the perpetrator, a towering 15 meter tall hovering killbot with a chainsaw (with which it had sawed down the forest) on one hand and a missile launcher on the other. It conveniently had the word Kaw written on one shoulder, which was presumably its name.

The it was using the latter of its weapons to bombard the walls of a forest temple of some sort, blowing holes in it into which more of the robotic enemies the kids had run over on the way here where attempting to stream into.

Holding them back where a squad of aromored panda people with crystal bayoneted rifles taking cover deeper into the structure. They could see this because there were a lot of holes in the wall now.

Kaw wasn't allowed to do this unhampered forever however. As the kids closed in, two more pandas, one wielding a sheild and another a frosty staff came barrling out of the temple. Literally in the shield carriers case, as he had curled up into a ball which slammed through the robot’s front lines. After careening through the big sword bots, he flipped out of the roll, landed on his shield, and then surfed it through the smaller backline shooting bots before coming to a stop and demanded Kaw
“Get lost!”

His ally ran swiftly through the gap he’d cleared, and then more eloquently declared that “Freom will never get his hands of the kingdom stone as long as we live!“

Kaw did not reply, but this state of affairs seemed to suit it just fine as it lashed out at them with a swipe of its chainsaw hand. Unfortunately for it, they both leapt over the swipe with relative ease before retaliating, with a shield toss from the guy and a spiraling ice magic enhanced stab from the lady.

Rika and Jr saw all this as they approached, but rather than intervene Jr attempted to simply go around the whole mess, but were entirely unable to do so due to all the noise their machine was making. The champions of both sides of the conflict were much too busy with each other, but the minions of both somehow found enough time away from attacking each other to attack them as well.

Rifle potshots pinged off of the Kuebiko, while a trio of blue wheeler bots pivoted and also opened fire with much more deadly blasts.

Out of the two groups, it was the latter got the retaliatory fire from Jr (after he landed an evasive jump) a hail of shots being fired from the Kuebiko that ripped one of the bots to shreds.

As he did this Rika opened the door, flipped herself onto the roof, and then deployed her drones.

”Killing the robots!” she declared before her brother could demand to know what she was doing, during which she deployed 6 sword drones, 2 scout planes and one Col. Droneman, all of which opened fire with the chainguns and missile launcher the Col. was giving them. This drowned a second bot in firepower, before she thrust her hands forwards, and sent the sword drones all rocketing forwards into the third, shanking it in half a dozen places and hitting something important enough that it ashed.

That put a stop to the panda’s plinking fire certainly, even if it was just because of the enemy of my enemy and all that. Because of Galeem, it’d still be an issue when they ran out of bots to shoot.

”We can just go around!” Jr attempted to insist, aware of the inevitably of the pandas picking back up on their shooting of them if they won. Rika simply insisted ”I’ll take the big one, you the little ones!” however, to which he responded with a groaning sigh as he slammed shut the door and got to work shooting the robot army in the back using the Kuebiko’s rotary cannon.

Rika stashed drones again as she summoned her helbard as she leapt off their ride, and then changed the weapon into a paintbrush. This she stuck to the floor, painting her own highway of ink upon which she sailed into action.

”Helping!” she called out to the guy and lady panda who were jumping and dashing all around the Kaw bot at high speeds. This seemed to be pretty effective, which was why she was sailing rather than running around, but they weren't putting much of a dent in it.

“It’s dangerous!” The ice lady called in warning, but the guy was all for it, calling out “Give it a shot if you can keep up!”

She was fairly sure she could, and then swiftly proved it by bullet jumping over a cheap low saw swing by the bot. Poseidon’s water splashed out of her, the impact lightly un-steadying the foe, which made it easier to ram a punch into it. This immediately didn't do too much damage, even with the Brachydios’s might behind her punches, nor did the one she did after swapping her paintbrush to her back and feather fall rune hopping upwards out of the way of an elbow swipe, which socked it in the face.

The third however, which she got by grappling hooking onto Kaw as it tried to fly back and get some space from the annoying gnat, did, as her Denting Blows procked and she hit thrice as hard, and crippled the machine’s armor to boot.

She released her grapple in just the right time to use her H3AD-5T v2 to lock onto a group of bots and slam down into them, the fall distance causing a big explosion that blew them to smithereens. She was then forced to dodge and weave as missiles came raining down, each one slowing in time as they got close, and giving her just enough margin to slip around them and get clear of the blast radius.

She then joined in with the panda lady’s icy machingun fire being launched up at the bot by blasting it with disruption cannon shots from her rigging, before maneuvering thrustering to avoid a meteoric down slash from the bot’s saw arm.

She retaliated by blasting it with shocking goop from her palm mounted grizco blaster, frazzling the bot, while also launching a swarm of insect winged electrical motes from the hanger in the other gauntlet that delivered a flurry of shocks all over it.

The panda guy’s shield slammed into its back as she jumped over a side slash, while the lady leapt up and delivered another twirling stab to its side.

It then did a 360 spin with its saw, but all three leapt over, and then when it tried to slash down on the panda guy he rolled out of the way while the lady battered it, and Rika summoned her Vespikan Ichor Queen striker to deliver a devastating chop with its several meter long cleaver.

Overwhelmed by the united assault, it tried to pull more bots off of the siege and into its own fight, only for Jr to gun them down with the Kuebiko’s cannon as they pulled back.

With that, enough was enough, as the bot simply flew up again and started blasting at them from out of range, forcing them to weave back and forth out of the way of the missiles while firing back sporadic shots at its own weaving form.

A useless waste of time on both sides, but more of one on its as jr decisively turned the course of the underling’s battle, taking the pandas from overwhelmed and on the back foot to pushing forward to mop up the last of the bots.

Battered, and thoroughly beaten, Kaw took one last look at the battlefield, before beginning to turn away… only to suddenly charge down towards the Kuebiko in either an act of petty vengeance, or a tactical move to remove at least one high priority threat before it fell back.

Unfortunately for it, while the Kuebiko wasn't equipped to dodge the motoric saw slash, Jr didn’t even try, and instead summoned his striker Bodia, or rather Bodia’s fist, that slammed out of nowhere and right into the body of Kaw, smashing it out of the air and onto its back.

A moment later, the two panda warriors and Rika were on it, bashing and blasting it till something important broke, and the towering machine was reduced to ash.

“Phew, what a bout!” the guy said, whipping his brow, while the perfectly cool lady said “thank you, stranger, for your help” only for both to be confused when, A. Rika grabbed the robot’s spirit, and B. some of their troops started shooting at the Kuebiko again.

”Probubly thought it was a robot and won’t stop till we go so bye!” Rika called back in a hurry as she made a run for her ride. Jr popping open the door and Rika enduring shots bouncing off of her energy shield before she leapt in and slammed said door back down behind her.

”Urgh, can’t even get all the spirits because of them!” Jr complained as they drove off, but then cheered up when Rika told him that ”I still got you another giant robot to use as a striker once we get back to the ship though”

They left the panda pair in the dust to go and try and knock some sense into their colleagues who inexplicably thought the machine that had decimated the enemy forces was still a threat.

Then, about five minutes later, by which point the spirits were all gone, they came back and Rika called out in question: ”Hi! Sorry! How do you get to Shinjuku from here?”

The answer had them bickering all the way back down the Jade Creek.

By the time Roxas had returned to the stagecoach from catching Reindrix, he quickly found out that the stagecoach had been attacked by Reavers while his group had been away. But seeing as how the stagecoach, his friends, and their supplies were all still intact it was a safe bet that the ambush failed in the end.

Speaking of said ambush, Ganondorf had regarded the attack in a dismissive tone. He’d done his part in making those pathetic bandits regret targeting them, but for him the ambush felt almost trivial. Like he was more annoyed by it rather than relishing the challenge. He did want a chance to test one particular new power he had gained from the Gravemind, but wasn’t afforded the chance when it came to the Reavers. So he knew he would have to wait for another opportunity to present itself.

And present itself, the opportunity most certainly did. Almost as soon as the Seekers had set foot in the Hall of Adventure, they were set upon by what could only be described as undead apes. Roxas and Ganondorf could only imagine that these things were among the Zoo’s former occupants, and were now running free. Initially in the encounter, two of the apes made a lung for Ganondorf and one of them targeted Roxas. Ganondorf had little trouble, all things considered. The first ape that lunged at him was caught by the throat before getting slammed into the second, stunning them long enough for Ganondorf to call forth his trident and plunge forward. The weapon skewered one ape allowing the Warlord to loosen his grip on the shaft and quickly catch the second ape with a Gerudo Dragon uppercut that sent it stumbling back. The warlord capitalized by using his newest dashing ability to teleport back into close range and finish it off with Flame Choke. Roxas, by contrast, had some slight difficulty at first. His smaller frame meant he was in greater danger of being overpowered by the ape that was attacking him. When it first lunged, he was quick enough to cast Reflectga in order to block it and cause the damage to be dealt back to the ape. After that the Nobody vanished and reappeared behind the ape to slash it with the energy blade of his StepSword. But he was caught by a swing of the ape’s arm that sent him sprawling. Scamp had to charge in and pull off a risky Nuzzle to inflict paralysis so that Roxas could launch back in with a Cross Slash that the Boltund then followed by using Spark. All in all, both the Warlord and the Nobody managed their part of the fight well enough.

After the fight, the Seekers were allowed to get a better look around the room. The first thing that drew attention was the metal door. It wouldn’t budge. And while Ganondorf might be capable of breaking through it if he tried hard enough, he frankly didn’t want to waste the energy. For a moment, Roxas thought the door was just locked and tried to use his Keyblade, but to no avail. ”Not locked.” He said, confirming Sandalphon’s guess that it was likely barred from the other side.

”Hmph, just means we’ll have to find a way around.” Ganondorf grunted, quickly deciding to explore the eastern side of the Hall. Roxas, not having any better ideas, shrugged and decided to follow after the Warlord.

”Place is pretty freaky for a zoo.” The Nobody observed, noting the dilapidated state of the building, not to mention the stomach-churning looks of the “animals” that resided here.

”Indeed.” Ganondorf concurred, ”But The Basement is still by far the worst place I’ve ever seen.”

”The… Basement?” Roxas tilted his head, having been with the Midgar Team rather than the Under Team during that particular period.

”Trust me,” Ganondorf said, ”you don’t want to know.”

As the two Seekers continued their way, their path naturally led closer to the Hall of Adventure’s East Wing. And when they finally could see what was waiting in there…

”Ugh, what is that?” Roxas asked, quite disturbed by the elephant monstrosity roaming the East Wing.

”An obstacle, as far I’m concerned.” Ganondorf said, summoning his trident with a wicked grin.

That was when they both heard Sandalphon’s warning over the communication she’d long since established with both of them. And it was Roxas who answered back, ”Copy that, Halo.” He said over the communication glyph over his ear, even as he watched with widening eyes as Ganondorf was already charging in to take the monster on. ”I’m already in the East Wing with Ganondorf, and… it looks like he’s already decided we’re gonna fight it.” He cut the transmission and recalled Scamp to his Poke Ball, thinking the elephant might be a bit too dangerous to risk letting him fight. Then the Nobody vanished.

Meanwhile, Ganondorf was already approaching where the elephant creature was lumbering. While he didn’t charge it directly, he did start closing the distance. In addition he summoned a squad of Moblin Archers to pepper the abomination with their fire arrows. The elephant reared its head in preparation for a charge, only for Roxas to appear on top of its back and slash it with his StepSword. So rather than charge, the elephant began to thrash in place in an attempt to fling the attacker from its back. ”Whoa!” The Nobody yelped, struggling to stay balanced while he attempted to cast Aeroga on himself. The spell went through but at the cost of Roxas not being able to stay up on the elephant’s back longer.

”My turn!” Ganondorf grunted as he used Bullet Jump to launch himself into the elephant’s side, plunging his trident into its body. The weapon sunk in, and certainly did its damage. But the elephant only responded by thrashing even more violently as fire arrows from the Moblins started hitting it. Rather than try to remain, Ganondorf pushed himself off with another Bullet Jump and landed safely back on the ground before re-summoning his trident. At that point he saw a protective whirlwind appear around his body.

It was Roxas, casting an Aeroga on Ganondorf followed by a Tailwind to help him move just a little more quickly. But that was all he had time to do before the elephant finally did a charging attack. Thankfully Roxas was just barely fast enough to dive out of the way. And Ganondorf? He smirked and used his Chaos Rift to teleport forward, harmlessly passing through the charging elephant and reappearing on the opposite side. His Moblins weren’t so lucky and were promptly trampled, leaving Roxas and Ganondorf alone again.

”Um, any other minions?” Roxas asked curiously, before suddenly getting an idea. ”I choose you… Shocker!” With a quick toss he released his Rotom from its Poke Ball. ”Shocker, quick! Use Confuse Ray!” The ghost Pokemon practically warped to the elephant’s fase and flashed it with glowing eyes. When the elephant began shaking its head and appearing as if it was looking for its bearings, that indicated the attack worked.

”Not bad.” Ganondorf admitted, ”For such a small creature. And yes, boy, I do in fact have more minions.” He said as he began channeling magic to summon Phantom Ganon to back them up. Meanwhile he noticed Roxas was recalling his Pokemon back into its ball only to brandish another one.

”Come out, Turbo!” Roxas said, calling out his newest Pokemon, the Revavroom charged her engine in anticipation. ”Use Screech!” The Pokemon obeyed, revving her engine until it made an ear-piercing noise that sharply lowered the elephant’s defense just in time for Phantom Ganon to drop down from above with his black nail - using a strong combination of Ripping Bear to empower himself and N Corp’s Nail to capitalize on the debuff for a powerful stab that also inflicted Bleed on the elephant. ”Now we’re getting somewhere!” Roxas said, ”Turbo? Keep your distance and keep using Screech!” Then he vanished again.

At this point, the confused elephant had managed to bat away Phantom Ganon with its thrashing. But now the actual Ganondorf had rejoined the fray, using Bullet Jump to launch himself up and onto the carcass’ back so he could proceed to plunge his trident downward, hoping maybe stabbing the head or neck might prove fatal. It didn’t, due to the elephant’s undead nature. But the attack still did heavy damage anyway thanks to the debuffs from Turbo using Screech. That was when Roxas reappeared nearby and also attacked the elephant’s neck/spinal area with his StepSword. But this time, both Seekers could predict what was about to happen and both jumped from the elephant’s back before it started thrashing about. Phantom Ganon chose not to charge in again, but instead attacked from a distance by launching a crackling sphere of dark magic at the thrashing beast, inspiring Roxas to do the same by casting a Firaga Spell at the Elephant.

”Hmph, this thing must be getting close to death by now!” Ganondorf grunted, javelin-throwing his trident into the elephant’s hide and following that with a lightning blast that struck the weapon like a lightning rod. That certainly hurt a lot, enough that the maddening elephant chose to charge toward Ganondorf. And this time the somewhat closer proximity didn’t give Ganondorf quite enough time to Chaos Rift out of the way, resulting in the Warlord getting knocked down and nearly trampled on. The damage was heavy, and would have been even worse if not for the Aeroga spell which was just now wearing off.

Roxas, on the other hand, was quick enough to dive out of the way. Seeing that the Aeroga spells were gone, he quickly cast two more. And then… ”Heal!” He cast Curaga, thinking it was going to restore Ganondorf. But he was wide-eyed with shock when it appeared to have no effect. ”Wha- I don’t understand, that usually works…”

Ganondorf pushed himself to his feet through gritted teeth. ”No, you fool! Healing doesn’t work on me anymore, not since I took the Gravemind spirit!”

”You couldn’t have told me that BEFORE I wasted all my magic?” Roxas said, flustered and surprised. Unfortunately, this little interaction gave the elephant enough time to recover from its confusion. But not before Phantom Ganon hit it with another N Corp’s Nail, inflicting a worse form of Bleeding now that the carcass was below half of its health. Thanks to the Curaga blunder, Roxas was now without any MP to use for the next half-minute. That was going to make this harder. He decided to mimic the strategy he told Turbo to employ and keep his distance. In fact he hopped on the Pokemon’s back and let her carry him while he fired charged shots from his RockGun, occasionally telling Turbo to use Screech again to try and lower the elephant’s defense further.

Ganondorf fought through the pain to brandish his trident again, watching as Phantom Ganon was finally vanquished by the elephant. Getting frustrated, he empowered his trident with dark energy, preparing a new strategy. He threw the trident at the elephant, but this time it forced the beast to be pulled back toward the Warlord who was waiting with an angry Warlock Punch to smash it with. Ganondorf’s Warlock Punch was already known to be quite a strong attack, but against an enemy whose defenses were already immensely lowered, it would be devastating. Ganondorf roared as his fist collided with the elephant, the Triforce of Power giving him enough strength to launch the large beast away from him despite its size. That, it seemed, had been enough. Both the Seekers watched as the thrashing elephant slowly melted and dissolved into ash, leaving its spirit behind - which Ganondorf claimed and bottled for later.

”Um, Halo?” Roxas said over the communication glyph after he recalled Turbo to her Poke Ball, ”The elephant monster’s down. East Wing should be okay now. And one more thing? Apparently, healing powers don’t work on Ganondorf anymore. Because of the Gravemind spirit, he told me. Just… thought you should probably know and would want to inform everyone else who can perform healing.”

---

It seems Ramattra’s advances to recruit allies had proved fruitful. A quiet moment had passed in the shredded-apart hallway, Ramattra strutted through before hearing two sets of steps approaching his location. As if something in his circuits fired off, hearing the sound of footsteps closing in made him react, quickly flourishing his staff as he flicked around to threaten whoever-or whatever had followed him. Noticing it was some of the fellow Seekers, Kit and Celica, Ramattra immediately lowered his weapon and offered a simple nod of apology to the duo that had followed him into the Lumber Mill. “Ah. Good, glad to see that some humans still have some skin. Come. Let’s find this trouble our friend ran into.” The Omnic was quick to turn over his shoulder to walk deeper into the building, leaving the other recruits behind, expecting them to follow. Kit and Celica had seemingly raised their guard toward Ramattra’s mistake, startled by the accidental threat. They offered one another a glance of confusion and concern, Celica’s bemused expression sharing the burden of displaying emotion for Kit.

When Kit and Celica caught up with their robotic companion, he began speaking again, debriefing details. “So. Our friend -erm, Heismay, I believe, was quite brief on the details.” Ramattra caught himself even trying to recall the names of the members who had followed him inside as he struggled to gather Heismay’s. It seemed they were about as fresh to the party as Ramattra was, now having a glimpse at the chain of command that existed within the Seekers. “You wouldn’t happen to have learned anything, have you?”

Celica was the first to chime in, finding herself speaking in part for the more quiet-sided Kit. “Partially. It was less a briefing and more of a warning. Heismay is small and intelligent enough to squeak himself out of any hairy situations, but the second we encounter whatever’s in here, we should expect a fight.” Ramattra, naturally, expected nothing less. While Heismay was a skilled fighter, it made sense for someone more stealthy to go in and out quietly if there was a threat of the caliber present. Luckily, Ramattra, Kit, and Celica were here to clean up whatever had threatened Heismay, so that it won’t be an issue for later.

While the ambience of the mill was rather spooky and dark, the glow from Ramattra’s eyes mixed with the light provided by a makeshift torch Kit had assembled in passing through the longer corridors. The group stayed silent, minus the sound of armored/plated steps of steel from Kit and Ramattra, listening out for that ‘horrid breathing sound’ that Heismay described. They crept further and further into what began to open way into what appeared to be some sort of trashed arena, armed to the teeth with traps, the walls adorned with what appeared to be twisted metal and splintered planks of wood, and pieces of obscure treasures (if some of the items scattered about could be called that).

It became increasingly obvious that the three of them were standing in the lair of whatever had spooked Heismay out of the Mill, the trinkets and wares lying around all seemingly hoarded precariously, as if with reason. The air of the situation left even Ramattra uneasy, who couldn’t even quite place his metallic finger on why there was such lingering danger in the air. The Omnic raised his staff to the group, gesturing them to stop before proceeding forward. Just before Kit had lost his foot, Ramattra’s perception was just fast enough to stop the knight by blocking his pathway with his Void Accelerator before he tripped the lever inside a rusted bear trap. Kit looked like he had wanted to say a word of thanks! But… that was quickly interrupted by the low, groan-like breathing that began to creep up on the group… Something was approaching. Its steps were slow at first, as if weighed down by tons and tons of steel, making a racket with every single step of its horrifically shaped metallic legs. Kit was quick to douse out the torch to give some form of advantage to their assault, limiting their vision to the minimal light provided by Ramattra’s red sensors.

In the corner of their vision, the large figure that had occupied this lumber mill began to slowly creep its way parallel to the broken walls and planks that had temporarily concealed the group. It was difficult to coordinate an attack without speaking to one another, but none of them dared to speak and throw away their offense. The three of them shifted, looking at one another for confirmation. When the disfigured man was to pass through, the three of them attacked. The sound of their feet shuffling reverberated throughout the passageway, earning an inquisitive squeak from Scrapbeak as he reached into his abnormally large sack.

Now brandishing a sickle, Scrapbeaks scurried clomps of his feet turned into focused thumps, surveying the area for where his foes may be, whilst avoiding the traps masterfully. There was no possibility this was going to be a streamlined fight, and the second they initiate with Scrapbeak, the masked figure would be locked into a spar to the death. Taking the initiative, Celica summoned her dual pistols and glided across the floor, directly underneath Scrapbeak, firing off pop shots toward his torso. Enraged, Scrapbeak let out a gurgling groan as he stabbed his sickle haphazardly into the floor, trying to slice her. She was able to narrowly avoid being cut, but just as quickly, Ramattra appeared from the shadows to deliver a punishing uppercut in Nemesis form, knocking some of the wind from the enemy, but only achieving a wheeze of pain before Scrapbeak returned his attention to his two attackers, as if deciding which of them he wanted to murder first.

Seeing as Celica was his first assailant, he thought to focus on her first, given that she was the smallest of the group. Scrapbeak’s hobbling suddenly began to turn more into a fast-paced limp as he hunched toward her as she continued to deal whatever damage to him she could. Seeing as he was now RAPIDLY approaching her, his danger level suddenly went from a one to a ten faster than Ramattra was able to shift out of Nemesis form. Celica began to flee to the next room over to regroup their assault, but was now separated from the rest of her comrades. Ramattra was sure she could hold her own, given she was much faster than the monster could keep up with… But suddenly something interesting happened… Rather than chasing after Celica, or more strategically, Ramattra and Kit, who were now closest to him, he began to string a sharp wire throughout the doorways and split pieces of wood, anticipating Celica to chase herself back towards the mess he made and cut herself. This was no murderous, erratic killer. The three of them were playing against a strategic trapper on their home turf.

After setting up wire traps in a matter of seconds, Scrapbeak returned to hunting Celica, his brisk pace leading down a hallway, giving Kit and Ramattra a moment to think. “When it returns, I believe our best tactic for immobilizing it is to lure it to its traps and use that moment of weakness to deal some blows.” Kit finally chipped in. It was a sound strategy, but how would they go about it? The fastest of the three was Celica, and she was probably deep in the mill by now, distracting the monstrosity as it continued to slowly restrict her movement with wires between shredded steel and broken wooden appliances. Once the zipping sounds of wires stopped and the loud, uneven steps of Scrapbeak resumed, to chase after Celica, who was currently trying to find a loop around back to the rest of the group.

“Now we have a moment to strategize,” Ramattra said bluntly as he stood, casting a red glare in the room around him. The two of them discussed how, once Celica returned, the goal was for her to continue drawing Scrapbeak towards her until they got him back inside the room. He wasn’t affected much by their damage, and Ramattra had a theory that the large pack of materials it carried on its back was responsible for “absorbing” a lot of the blows they dealt. They needed to catch it off guard, and the best way to do that was to force him into one of his traps.

Like clockwork, once Kit and Ramattra were familiar with the plan, Celica had begun sliding back into the room from an opposite door, and for a moment, seemed to have lost Scrapbeak. “Wait… I thought he stayed behind with you two?” They lost him. The whole point of their plan was rendered useless, and they were now closed off from the room Celica had entered, unless they felt like dodging sharp wires.

A loud creeping came from the hole that was in a wall nearby, the clangs of metallic steps closing in on the group. They had to play it safe now; if one of them made one wrong step, they were sure to step into a trap and meet their untimely fate. Able to pinpoint where the approaching sound had been coming from, Ramattra quickly entered nemesis form again and approached the hole from the left side, ready to enter a short offense against Scrapbeak. “Remember, if he steps into one of his traps, we have a moment to strike. Got it?”

Ramattra didn’t even let the group answer before Scrapbeak’s steps became more rhythmic, the sound of a blade being removed from his bag once again. This time, it was a small dagger that he crept around the corner of the hole with, Ramattra hiding in the dark just outside of his peripheral vision. When he finally turned out of the hole to investigate the room for Kit and Celica, Ramattra dealt another devastating blow, this time able to knock him back slightly. Along with his attack, Kit threw a firebomb at the hulking figure, igniting his tattered coat and leaving a terrible smell of burnt-mangled flesh in the air. Enraged, Scrapbeak screeched and began hobbling rapidly towards Kit, the contents of his bag rifling around as he grabbed a new weapon, a rusted harpoon spear, which he used to threaten Kit. For a moment, the blade almost clashed into Kit’s arm, but swiftly enough, Celica was able to knock Kit to the ground with a swift kick, avoiding the puncture.

They weren’t going to win like this; there needed to be a way to make the enemy vulnerable, and he was always aware enough to avoid his traps. There needed to be a risk taken, because without him immobilized, there was no chance they could defeat him. That’s when Celica got an idea. Nearby, there stood a blinking red mine on the ground that looked like it was pressure-sensed. With that idea in mind, Celica would need to time her dash into Scrapbeak perfectly to throw him into the mine and eat the explosion. She stood and quickly ran, leaving Kit to deal with Scrapbeak for the time being. While Kit was recovering from being pushed out of the way of Scrapbeak’s harpoon, Ramattra grabbed onto a nearby log with his large fist and slammed it into the side of the mangled man, staggering him yet again, while Celica prepared to rush him into the mine. She was fully prepared to eat the explosion, knowing that most of the damage would be inflicted on their enemy, and that she could simply be healed by the healers back at camp. When Scrapbeak was in position, she dashed from the other side of the room, diving into him while he was vulnerable from being hit by a log.

When Scrapbeak’s side crashed into the mine, an electronic whirring started up, making a sharp blinking noise as a ball full of liquid began dispensing a mysterious liquid into the air. The liquid seemed to slow down the movement of both Celica and Scrapbeak, forming a web of mist and ice. With Scrapbeak vulnerable, Kit and Ramattra took this as a chance to begin a counter-attack, unleashing a flurry of punches and slashes towards Scrapbeak that began to slowly tear open his bag, dropping weapons and pieces of scrap onto the floor. He began to remove his large sack from his bag, probably in an attempt to escape the web that the mine had formed; however, he was quickly dealt with when Celica unleashed a Black Bane attack, using the multitude of ailments inflicted on Scrapbeak to punish him with a final blow. He let out a defeated cry, his mask pointed towards the hole-filled ceiling as he began to slowly turn to dust, allowing the gleaming Ramattra to exit combat. His form switched back to Omnic as he approached the remains of Scrapbeak…



The three of them triumphed for a moment in their victory! This would be a cause to celebrate back at base, especially since the sack of scrap that was left behind could be used to repair and upgrade the stagecoach. “A worthy fight, you two. Very good.” Ramattra complimented, placing his free hands cupped on the shoulders of his new allies. Celica would give Ramattra a cautious yet warm smile at his praise before quickly doubling over and beginning to vomit a bright-blue liquid. Concerned, Kit and Ramattra almost rushed to her aid to ask what was wrong, before she lifted a hand to the two, stopping them. “The robot. Let the robot carry me. Whatever was in that mine…” She could barely finish her sentence between wheezes, but the two of them got the picture. As far as she knew, Kit was human and was able to get infected. That left Kit to carry the large sack for the time being until they got to safety.

Ramattra lifted her with ease, tossing her gently over his shoulder as she lifelessly dangled from lack of strength. What was going to happen to her? Neither of them particularly knew the answer, but the only option they had was to either return to the group or Snowdin. Both Ramattra and Kit thought it wiser to seek out Warden Rust, who might be able to provide some insight. Carrying their heavy cargo on their backs, they exited the Mill and asked their inquiry. “Well. I ain’t much one for rumors, but that Manor atop the mountain? Some police officer had been sticking his nose around up there, looking for some sort of weapon. A weapon that makes diseases. I’m unsure as to where he is now, but…” he pulled at his beard for a moment in contemplation. “I’d imagine you could find him back at that quaint little town, but that’s quite a walk.” Another moment of pulling his beard before he spoke. “But yknow. I did happen to come across quite an interesting object if you’d be interested.”

He gestured for the group to follow them, leading them around the side of the mill, revealing a large sled nearby mounted by two abnormally large wolves. “I’ve no clue where it came from. It wasn’t here when you lot passed through earlier; however, I don’t see the harm in using it if you return it. And trust me, I will make sure it gets returned.” Rust seemed to have a good sense of morals, and with very few options for transportation, they were left to take the sled.

…

Once they arrived in Snowdin, they quickly made their way to the inn, hoping that whoever might have information on what had been inflicted on Celica was staying the night here. The odd clerk at the front desk was shuffling papers when Ramattra burst through the door with the ill woman on his shoulder, startling her from her work before Ramattra began speaking immediately. “Is there an officer here?” He asked plainly, making sure the urgency of the situation was noted. The creature seemed concerned for a moment, unsure if he should provide the information. Ramattra repeated himself, the annoyance in his voice more apparent. “Is. There. An. Officer. Here?” He hoped his threatening tone would be enough to wriggle the information he needed, and he seemed to get lucky, because the closer he got to the stairs leading to the inn’s rooms, he got intimidated and blurted out that he was in the 3rd room.

When they got to the room, Kit would knock on the door for Ramattra, hoping that there would be an answer. Silence. With another knock, the door was flung open by a rugged man who seemed to have been disturbed by their late intrusion. “What the hell is your problem?” He asked sternly. It was hard to tell if the expression on his face was natural or an expression of annoyance. This was a no-nonsense guy who had had a long day. Before Ramattra could answer, Chris noticed the hunched girl over his shoulder, ill in the face with blue liquid dripping from her mouth. He stared for a moment, letting the quiet sift over the group before sighing and gesturing for them to come inside.

“She’s going to be fine.” Christ started speaking, rifling through a large metallic case of empty syringes. He waved at Ramattra to leave her in his bed. “It’s only contagious through internal contact, so all of us will be fine as well. Damn, I really should have had that rookie look into this sooner.” He grumbled as he procured a silver syringe still with the plunger intact. “I can only save so many people from this damned virus, so it’s pertinent you tell me where she got infected.” Ramattra and Kit would debrief their fight with Scrapbeak, and how, when they took it out, a mysterious liquid had sprayed into the air. Sighing, Chris stood over the girl, quickly administering the shot into her forearm. “Well. Like I said, she’ll be okay. But she can’t stay here. The cure won’t fully do its job for a couple of weeks, and my mission lies wherever I can purge that virus. I’m sure the shopkeeper next door would be willing to let you stay and collect your bearings.” With that, Ramattra, Kit, and Celica departed for the building next door, where the kind sister of the innkeeper allowed them to stay in a spare bedroom while Celica rested. The innkeeper had offered to care for Celica until she was well again, but Kit decided to speak up. “She saved my skin back there. I can stay and help the shopkeeper care for her in the meantime.”

Ramattra tried to convince Kit to leave her and return to the seekers as best he could. “You are a valuable asset to the team. What I saw in combat back there would be useful for the coming battles.” Kit simply shook his head at the request. There was still part of him that was human after all.

“No. While my time with the Seekers was important, I cannot in good faith leave an ill person alone. I’ve sinned far too much before.” Kit turned to Celica, who now rested semi-peacefully atop a silk-sheeted bed with a bag of hot water on top of her head.

“... So be it.” There was a hint of annoyance as Ramattra collected the belongings of Scrapbeak on his back, tossing a small sack of gold coins he gathered from claiming the manor on a nearby bedside. While Ramattra was rather curt, he respected Kit’s valiance and would see to it that he was rewarded for his efforts. “Then may your adventures from here on treat you well, Kit the Chosen Undead.” He turned out of the door and began to make his way back to the sled, so that he could regroup with the team.

Ms. Fortune and Robo-fortune glared at one another, eyes blazing and teeth bared, the tension between them palpable as the other NMO fighters looked on. For a few seconds they seemed liable to throw themselves at one another once more, all notions of propriety gormlessly discarded in favor of a visceral, definitive showdown here and now. After a moment, though, Robo gestured with her head toward the dojo’s main room a few dozen feet away. “Shall we take this inside?”

Nadia eased up slightly, a smile on her face as she entertained the idea. “Sure. If we’re gonna do this, let’s do this right!”

Taking the lead, Robo stalked into the paper court, her head pivoting in its socket to keep her unblinking optics on her opponent no matter which way her body faced. Each metallic footfall hit the ground like the rod of a jackhammer, much heavier than Robo’s build would suggest. While Nadia’s stride looked far more relaxed and casual, she did not break eye contact with her adversary either, her expression playful and mocking the whole time. “A metal clone of Ms Fortune, huh?” Nadia rolled her eyes. “Guess that makes you an aluminum ‘foil’.”

Unflinching, Robo scorned her in a cold, dismissive tone. “You are old news, fleshling. I am the upgrade.”

“Upgrade? Ha! You really a-mews-me! While you’ve been sittin’ here, grindin’ your gears, I’ve been rackin’ up so much power it’d make your head spin. As a matter of fact, why don’t I do you a li’l favor…” CLANG! Nadia’s combat pack hit the ground, followed shortly by her bait launcher and Athame daggers. After her weapons clattered to the floor, the feral stretched her shoulders and arms, feeling limber. “Don’t need my new toys to strip your screws!”

As the two assumed opposing positions, Annie declared the terms of the fight. “This’ll be a standard one-on-one fight, no outside help allowed. First to two knockouts takes it.” She raised an eyebrow at Nadia. “Got it?”

“I’ve been around the block,” the feral assured her. “I know how this plays out!”

Annie crossed her arms. “You both ready then?”

“Affirmative,” Robo told her.

Nadia smirked. “A-fur-mative!”

After Annie nodded at Beowulf, the big man raised his arms. “Then, ladies and gentlemen it’s…SHOWTIME!”

As Nadia burst forward, Robo surprised her with a medium Theonite Beam. “Buster.” With her arms crossed, the pink laser blazed from her eyes with surprising speed and caught the feral in the shoulder. Taken aback for but a brief instant, Nadia rolled with the punches and spun along with her momentum, then charged on all fours. “Beam.” When Robo crouched down to fire off a lower-profile light beam, Nadia stopped short and blocked, then resumed her sprint the second Robo’s ray died down. With her opponent getting close, Robo jumped up to execute a x-swipe and throw down a four-pronged laser cutter,”Variable,” then canceled into a downward Theonite Beam from her mechanical heart. “Beeeam.”

Nadia sidestepped the former, then performed a Cat Slide to narrowly scrape past the latter. After sliding underneath her airborne foe, Nadia blasted out her legs in an explosive Fiber Upper. “Enough purr-jectiles!” She snapped up into the air to follow up with a handful of high-flying strikes, heightened and accelerated by her Elation blessings. “Eat this!” A moment later she finished with a flexible axe kick right to the schnoz. “I’ll foot the bill!”

The kick smacked Robo back down to the ground, but when Nadia descended for a plunging tail blade, her doppelganger teched backward and Nadia’s tail pierced nothing but the floor. “Quartz.” Robo dashed in to retaliate with a low-frequency knee blade, struck with an electrical current flowing between her hands, then brought one metal mitt down in an electric launcher. “Grounded.” Rather than follow up after the launcher, though, Robo took the moment while Nadia sailed through the air to pop out three headrones. “Launch, headrone. Heads, up. Form the head.”

By the time Nadia got to her feet, her foe had already issued the command. “Beep-beep-plarp!” All three headrones opened up to fire a volley of micro-missiles each. Knowing they’d lock her down long enough for Robo to mess her up, Nadia tried to outrun them, racing around the room as a barrage of explosions went off behind her.

Unfortunately, her predictable path allowed Robo to cut her off and knock her down with a Theonite Beam, and on waking up Nadia had no choice but to block the rest of the missiles. “Hell of a purr-cussion!” Nadia hissed through gritted teeth as the smoke cleared, her arms seared and smarting from the chip damage. “With all those rockets, you’re gonna give me thrust issues.” When she saw Robo launching more headrones, she quickly took off running, her anger speeding her steps. “Nyaat if I have anythin’ to say about it!”

With no other ideas, she closed the distance with Charge, becoming a bolt of lightning that blitzed straight through Robo-fortune. As sparks flew, Nadia rematerialized behind her foe and pivoted around with a double slash. The Battery hit hard, but did not allow her to follow up, so as Robo put up her defenses Nadia leaped into the air. She intentionally whiffed a light claw slash to bait out a high guard, then landed and lashed out with a low kick. “Shin-terdiction!” It worked like a charm, and as her foe fought to keep her balance Nadia continued with a pivoting kick, then seized her tail from the floor to carve across Robo’s chest with it in a reverse grip. After that a High Brow head smash launched Robo upward, and a quick air combo ensued. It ended with an upside-down, multi-hitting windmill kick that jailed Robo long enough for Nadia’s ears to plunge into the ground and restand her foe for a follow-up in the form of her level one Blockbuster, Fur-seker Purr-age. “Let’s cut to the chase! EE-YAH!”

“Pain.” The barrage of slashes ended with a hefty cross slash, and with that, Robo hit the ground. “Hurt,” she muttered mechanically.

When the machine failed to rise right away, Annie pointed toward Nadia, pleasantly surprised. “Round one, Ms Fortune.”

Nadia grinned as her opponent slowly picked herself up. “One down, one to go!” She pulled her head off, then tossed it up and down in her hand. “I guess the cooler head prevailed, eh? Now, let’s spice things up!”

She rolled her head like a bowling ball, only for her body to immediately get floored by a heavy Theonite Beam. Her head made a beeline for Robo, using her ears as little feet as she narrowly dodged laser after laser, then launched toward her for a big chomp. “Mrrow!” Her hardened teeth closed on Robo’s arm, digging in deeper as her foe nipped her again and again with a scissor pincher, until Robo gave up and blasted her with a point-blank eye laser. “MEOWCH!”

Her body ran in, but Robo was ready. She sizzled Nadia with a light laser, then immediately canceled into a Blockbuster of her own. As Robo knelt, her torso extended and her arms transformed. “Catastrophe Cannon…Alpha.” Huge pink beams surged across the room, seemingly consuming Nadia’s body for a moment as her head writhed, unable to assist.

“Eugh…” Nadia groaned as the light died down, her eyes bleary from the pain. “That must be…your cannon-ical form…” When she shook out the dizziness, she saw Robo scooting toward her head to finish what she started. “Ugh, nyaat good!” Her attempt to dodge failed as a Scroll Heel sliced her, the yellow razor blades raking her face. “Grrrah!” Before Robo could bring down an electric ground pound, a blast of blood from Nadia’s neck covered her optics, and the head scooted away into her smoking body’s waiting grasp. Her legs transformed with Fluffy Soft to close the distance, then launched a white tiger dropkick to cut into Robo’s defense. Unfortunately, that led her straight into her doppelganger’s disjointed Colimating Saw, and the trade of blows left Nadia on the floor once again, half-conscious while her foe managed to recover.

“Round two, Robo-fortune,” Annie declared.

“Good effort though, Fortune!” Beowulf cheered her on, pumping his fist.

Balling her own fists, Filia nodded. “Yeah, nice try! You can do it!”

“Indignant.” Robo-fortune glared at them. “Why?”

With an annoyed grunt, Nadia got to her feet. She wiped blood from her lip as her cuts closed themselves. “Alright, tin cans. No more kitten around!”

Round three began, as one might expect, with a barrage of fingertip-lasers from Robo-fortune. Nadia approached, dash-blocking appropriately, until Robo went for a heavy Theonite Beam from her heart. “Plutonic.” The feral bent over backward, narrowly avoiding the big pink ray, then hurled her hardened tail like a blade. Her foe blocked it, then grabbed it in both hands to try and break it in half, reasoning that the pain would stop Nadia in her tracks. Thinking quickly, Nadia let her tail go limp as she ran forward, rendering it break-proof. “Oh.” It took Robo only a second to realize this and return to her previous strategy, but by then Nadia had leaped into the air to soar over the next Theonite Beam, then spike her head down like a volleyball. It beaned her opponent on the metallic cranium, then landed behind her as Nadia touched down in front.

“Checkmate!” With Robo sandwiched, the game was on. Nadia and her head alternated attacks in a grueling, unpredictable beatdown, resetting the hapless robot over and over as she tried and failed to block the two-pronged assault. Even if she did guess the right direction to block, Nadia could grab and throw her, and when Robo found what seemed to be gaps in the feral’s pressure, they turned out to be devious traps as Robo’s challenge led to a merciless punish. After a few moments, Robo bet it all on another Blockbuster, counting on its armor to soak her foe’s hit and blow her away. Unfortunately for her, Nadia was in the bot’s head. She cut her offense short to block it out, and even as she took a lot of chip damage, her heart soared–she knew she’d won. “Baited! Nyahahaha!” When the beam died down, she had free reign to chain together an onslaught of claw slashes and kicks. The manic laughter from Wounds of Plenty fired off in the middle of it, adding insult (and even more injury) to injury, and after a few moments Nadia finished with another Fur-serker Purr-age to seal the deal. “Cat scratch fever!”

Robo-fortune wasn’t quite finished, but when she went for a desperate nail stab at Nadia’s throat, she leaned out of the way, sunk her teeth into her foe’s metal arm, then yanked the limb from its socket. “Rip-off!” Taking it by the hand, she whipped it around like a baseball bat into Robo’s head. Oil flew from the machine’s mouth as she hit the ground, down for the count. “And that’s that. No ifs, ands, or ro-buts!”

At that point, Annie scarcely needed to declare the winner. While Filia and Beowulf headed over to congratulate the catgirl, she merely offered a tired nod of newfound respect. “Not bad. Guess you do know how to do things New Meridian Style after all. Welcome to the NMO.”

Nadia beamed, though not in the way Robo-fortune had. “Sweet! Guess I’m off to sign up for the tournament, then!”

“Not wasting any time, huh?” Annie crossed her arms. “Which one you thinking?”

Nadia glanced over her shoulder at Robo-fortune, who had initiated self-repair protocols, then gestured for the other New Meridians to huddle together. “Listen up, ‘cause I got a plan…”

---

After her friends’ tryouts concluded, and she completed her own registration for the tournament of her choice, Sakura had a little time before the proposed Pao Pao Cafe meetup to simply wander Esaka and reacquaint herself with the city. The Low Tier didn’t exactly have streets, but it did have a lot of familiar sights and sounds, mixed in with new things that had emerged in the month or two she’d been gone. Some Low Tier inhabitants and Yokai recognized her despite her absence, some greeting her and exchanging pleasantries, though the bystanders never accumulated into the adoring mob Terry had encountered. After a bit, though, Sakura did get the feeling that someone was following her. When it persisted, she finally turned around, and spotted not just one someone, but two recognizable someones headed her way.

“Heeey!” A young Japanese woman with short brown hair hustled over to Sakura, an easy smile on her face as she called out with gusto. Like the more composed Montenegrin blonde that followed her at a measured pace, her expression austere, Asuka wore primarily white, albeit in the form of a smudged button-up shirt with rolled-up sleeves instead of an expensive, pristine blouse with ruffles. “Sakura, right?” Asuka asked as she came to a stop a few feet away. “How’s it going? Do you remember me? Lili says we used to be friends, but…I have amnesia, so I don’t remember you. Uh, but I’m game to be friends again if you are!” With a spunky smile and closed eyes, Asuka crossed her arms.

As Lili approached, she adopted a less approachable pose, with one forearm resting on her midsection to support the elbow of the other forearm, which she held curled by her face as if checking her nails. “Miss Kasugano,” she began, sounding mildly, smugly amused like always. “When a little bird told me you’d finally returned, I simply had to fetch Asuka here and see for myself. You’re looking…well.” Her gaze was a little judgemental, but not unfriendly. “A pity it’s also true that you returned without your friend Miss Kanzuki. I was so looking forward to finally settling the matter of ‘best rivals’ with a friendly duel.”

The two pairs had, after all, shared what some might call a fated link. The duos, composed of a haughty, filthy-rich blonde aristocrat and a scrappier, friendlier brunette, had enough superficial similarities that both fighters and Yokai from Esaka often compared them. Some jokingly referred to them as ‘echo fighters’, others as the simpler and more derogatory term ‘clones’, all typically behind the young ladies’ backs. Asuka, Lili, Sakura, and Karin weren’t on bad terms, but if there was anything each pair of rivals could agree on, it was that they were the dominant duo. Unfortunately, both Asuka and Karin had disappeared a while back after significant tournament losses, leaving an odd couple in Esaka until Sakura left to seek out Ryu. Karin’s appearance in Limsa Lominscuttle Town, and Asuka’s much more recent reappearance with none of her previous Esaka memories, told Sakura everything she needed to know in order to recontextualize what had happened–a fate these two seemed blind to.

“Oh, well,” Lili sighed with a shrug. “I suppose it will have to wait until Miss Kanzuki returns as well. I had just managed to persuade Asuka to edify herself with a visit to Critical Art when the news of your return reached me. If you’ve a mind to join us, feel quite free.”

While not enthused by the prospect of visiting some stuffy old art museum, Asuka seemed much more amenable now that she had someone fun around. “So, where’ve you been?” she asked Sakura. “Got any good stories? Maybe you’ll jog my memories!”

---

In the course of silently observing his fellow detective’s tryout against Kyanta from beside the building’s front door, Big Band quickly came to a decision: that this wasn’t the gym for him. Though his mechanical body possessed great strength and fortitude, he knew he could be overwhelmed by quick, agile opponents, and if what he’d seen so far was anything to go by, he wouldn’t last one minute against these psychos. Their combos and attack patterns followed no logic that he could identify, defying both physics and common sense. While Zenkichi probably had enough magic tricks up his sleeve to pull off a win here, Band was a much more traditional fighter, and while on Kyanta’s turf he couldn’t rely on the Heavenly Principles to even things out. Better to find a dojo that catered to his strengths; if there was one upside to trawling Esaka’s Low Tier for diamonds in the rough, it was that there were plenty of options.

After wishing Zenkichi luck and bidding him farewell for now, Band set off for another pass around the bottommost district at his own pace. He stopped by a number of dojos in quick succession, spending up to five minutes at each, and what he saw didn’t exactly paint the brightest picture for him. As it turned out, the unregulated nonsense of Ultra Fight de Kyanta was more like the rule than the exception. Everywhere he looked he saw unreactable mixups, bizarre techniques, incongruent movements, infinite combos, and staggering imbalance even between members of the same dojo. The average low-tier fight looked more like a cracked-out frenzy than a proper sportsmanlike duel. No wonder the higher tiers turn up their noses at these guys, he mused, shaking his head. The more Band saw, the quicker he went, more and more anxious about the invisible timer that hung over his head, ticking down the seconds until noon. He hadn’t wanted to partake in a tournament at all, of course, but if they really did involve Esaka’s Guardian like the others expected, he couldn’t hang his teammates out to dry. Soon, less than an hour remained to both join a dojo and register.

At length, though, Band stumbled upon an unusual dojo even by Low Tier standards. This one featured a lot of heavy metal, with a futuristic aesthetic, but it seemed only half-built, with weeds growing up from the disturbed earth in its partially-developed plot. The front door was shut tight, but with nobody around to stop him, Band let himself inside. Within, he found a strange scene. A state-of-the-art, highly technological gym languished in an incomplete state, its metallic interior dusty and rusting. The biggest surprise to Band was the bodies, not of people, but of robots. A variety of sporting-looking, combat ready machines could be found around the place, intact but inert. Poring over the scene piece by piece, Band found a handful of documents, culminating in the discovery of a ledger clutched tight in one robot’s hand. With that, he began to put the bigger picture together.

According to the documents, ‘Metal Revolution’ had been the name of the dojo-to-be, the project. Deliberately and carefully modeled after certain higher-tier dojos with a mind to emulate the best parts of each, the dojo and its roster had shown a lot of promise. Highly publicized throughout the lower and middle tiers, it had received a lot of attention and investment, but not enough to satisfy its founder’s grand designs. With the finish line in sight, Metal Revolution exhausted the last of its funding and support, shutting down before its efforts ever came to fruition. Its colorful cast of fighters, enthusiastically registered along with the dojo in advance, went offline one by one. All had been robots styled after various sports or martial arts the world over, with names like Xuan Cuo, Catalina Gomez, Paulo Silva, Jamal Ritter, and Umi Ito, but like their dojo they’d been forgotten by Esaka and its fighters.

It was a sad story, but in the midst of his revelations, Band saw an opportunity. “Hmm…” he murmured, scratching his chin with a little mechanical pincer as he reviewed the roster. However preemptive and futile it had been in the end, Metal Revolution and all its robotic fighters had been registered with the tournament board. The Low Tier housed so many stagnant, half-dead dojos in various states of decomposition that he couldn’t help but wonder if Metal Revolution had ever actually been scrubbed from the records. With that in mind, Band paid his respects and vacated the premises, headed for the nearest registration booth.

Soon, the detective was looming in front of a yellow-and-white combot, its beady red eyes inquiring. “What is your name, which dojo do you represent, and which tournament would you like to enter?”

“Paulo Silva,” Band told the machine, his tone one of unflinching self-confidence. “Metal Revolution.” That left just one important question, and unfortunately he knew very little. He did know that King of Fighters used three-man teams, and he worked best in a team, but all three members probably had to be together to register. There was no time to try and find his fellow Seekers. “...World Warrior.”

Though the combot’s lack of face made it difficult to read, it didn’t seem to suspect anything. “Responses recorded. Eligibility check pending. You are free to go. Have an excellent day.”

Band let out the breath he’d been holding as he stepped away from the booth, walking past the line. Plenty of random low-tier fighters had left their registration until the last minute as well, but he didn’t feel any better about his gambit. Nothing to do now but wait and see, he thought. After getting some distance, he lifted a pincer to the linkpearl in his ear and radioed the others. “Just registered myself. Headin’ to Pao Pao now, over.”

“Hey, me too!” Nadia’s bright, cheerful voice piped up over the comm line. “I’ll be a minute gettin’ down from the Mid Tier though. The Pools are real purr-ty, by the way. Nobody’s up there fightin’ today, so if anyone feels like a nice dip after lunch, we can have ourselves a pool paw-ty!”

Band did not relish the thought of immersing his five thousand pounds of intricate instrumentation in the water, so he decided not to volunteer. Instead he made his way through the Low Tier to Gold Team’s designated rendezvous point, ready to meet back up with everyone else.



With the glow of red paper lanterns shining off the burnished whiskers and antlers of gilded Chinese dragons, and zesty music playing near its fully-loaded bar, Pao Pao had a nigh-irresistible party atmosphere. The decor of the place, from the red railings that ringed its second-story balcony to the elaborate antique wall panels on the first floor, not to mention those great serpentine statues, struck Nadia as oddly similar to the Dragon Empire styling of some restaurants in Little Innsmouth. It wasn’t quite the same, of course, but it still left her smiling from ear to ear the moment she entered. After showing herself to the back of the restaurant, she joined a number of other Seekers at a long table. The new guys Terry and Kim were both present, while Junior, Rika, Primrose, and Therion were notably absent; Nadia guessed they must be off doing their own thing.

The moment after Nadia seated herself by Big Band, the mii waitress appeared to take her drink and appetizer order, having already taken everyone else’s. “Cola and pork dumplings, please!” the feral chirped after a quick glance at the menu. After the waitress left, she looked around at the others and told them, apropos of nothing, “So, I signed up for Mortal Kombat…”

Band nearly choked on his sweet tea. “You did what?”

The feral shrugged. “Well, someone’s got to, right? Plus, it’s got the least entrants, so that means fewer fights. And if, God forbid, I somehow do lose, I can just play dead!” To prove her point, her head rolled off her shoulders and plopped into her hands with her tongue sticking out and her ears drooping. “See? I’ll just fall to pieces the second someone goes to fatalize me, and bam, dead,” she declared cheerfully, using the term she learned during her attempted registration.

There’s more than one way to skin a cat, Band thought, but what he said was, “And what about the people you beat? You’re s’posed to kill them, too, ain’tcha?”

“Don’t care!” Nadia replied breezily. “What’re they gonna do, boo me? It’s not grounds for disqualification, I don’t think. Much as I’d love everyone cheerin’ my name, all that really matters is beatin’ the guardian.”

Soon after, the waitress returned with Nadia’s orders, then pulled out a notebook to take everyone’s entree orders. Between authentic Chinese cuisine and various South American dishes, from Brazilian to Chilean, there were a lot of tasty-sounding options. Once everyone had given their lunch orders, the conversation could continue.



Once the stagecoach came to a stop within the Hall of Adventure, Heismay wordlessly lent his blade to the efforts to secure the area. There were fewer carcasses in the immediate vicinity than one might expect, and mostly standard human ones at that, so with nearly a dozen Seekers it was no trouble to clear them out. Truth be told, Heismay was grateful. Though he’d fought without giving voice to his reservations, these monstrosities disturbed him greatly. The Humans that plagued his world were awful, certainly, but their horror came from an indescribably alien ‘otherness’ and ‘wrongness’. These carcasses were like nothing he’d ever seen, a repulsive and gruesome mockery of life itself, reeking of death and disease. He agreed with Sandalphon completely; the world would be better off with these things wiped out. The only problem was that he needed to help do it.

Edward and Geralt decided to stay with Sandalphon and protect the stagecoach, while a number of Seekers trooped toward the east wing, especially once the archangel’s report confirmed an avenue of egress on that side. Accordingly, Heismay turned his attention to the west wing. With the main doorway blocked, he jumped over the gap in the collapsed stairs on the western side, then proceeded through to the east wing’s second floor, where he paused on the threshold to scope it out. He spotted a half-dozen rectangular taxidermy displays along the walls, mostly themed around the wetlands. Flamingos, crocodile, hippopotamus, beavers, water buffalo, capybara…Heismay recognized few of those names, but even with the zoo in this condition, it was easy to get distracted admiring these animals.

He could see three human carcasses, a male one near the entrance and two female ones further away. The first one still wore the remnants of a showy yellow tweed suit. “Quite the dandy,” Heismay muttered. That carcass seemed busy pummeling the taxidermied remains of a beaver, mindlessly smashing the husk over and over, so Heismay snuck up on it with relative ease. With ample time to prepare, he transformed as he approached, then used Dark Sword from behind to hack the former gentleman in twain.

When Heismay changed back and turned to focus on the other two, however, he had a surprise waiting for him. Blazermate had flown in without any regard for stealth, then used that strange shield of hers to bite the two female carcasses once each, amidst their ineffective flailings. Having done the deed, the medabot flew away, and when the carcasses turned to face her they spotted Heismay instead.

“Damn it.” The eugief darted behind a display as the carcasses approached, snarling horribly. He looked around, identified a piece of broken glass, then picked it up and tossed it over the display. When it shattered, the carcasses turned to investigate the sound. Without delay, Heismay hopped up onto the display, then jumped toward the enemies. He spread his wings to close the distance by gliding silently, then drew his sword as he dropped to deliver a spine-severing slash to one target. As it fell, he pivoted and cut through the other’s leg, then repositioned himself in order to lop off its head as it toppled. It seemed dead, but the other one’s upper half was still functional. “Vile things.” Heismay tightened his grip on his longsaber, repositioned himself, then chopped off the carcasse’s arms. With no way to move or attack, it wouldn’t be much of a threat to anyone.

Heismay crossed through the second floor, pausing only to look at the taxidermied reptile. Compared to the others, even the more sizable hippopotamus, the croc seemed to have the most care and attention put into it. It was of no consequence, though, and the eugief proceeded down the stairs to the west wing’s first floor. A crude and highly damaged barricade had been erected at its base at some point, but Heismay had no trouble getting past it. Looking around, it seemed like a number of survivors had attempted to hole up here at some point, hoarding all the supplies they could. The wing looked like a junkyard of smashed boxed, broken suitcases, and trampled personal belongings, all the former property of families who’d traveled here to visit the zoo on holiday. He could see a few highly disfigured carcasses, and when one sensed him, it tore a bluish polyp off its body to hurl at him. “Not today.” Heismay jumped away from the globule of decay, then approached, methodically dashing and dodging projectiles until he could put the carcass out of its misery. A similar approach worked for the other ones, and after another minute the bottom floor was clear. Heismay wiped steaming teal fluids off his longsaber using a tattered frock. “Plague us no more.”

At his words, one large suitcase seemed to react, shaking suddenly. Muffled sounds emanated from within. Swallowing, Heismay narrowed his eyes and approached. He waited until the struggling died down, then carefully undid the latch, his blade at the ready.

The suitcase burst open, and from within tumbled a short man with a long, braided, orange beard, gasping for breath. As he panted, Heismay lowered his blade. “Ohh, thank ye for freein’ me,” the viking gasped, laying on the floor. He turned toward his rescuer, only to be taken aback. “Eh!? A bat-man?”

Heismay narrowed his eyes. “And what of it?”

Realizing his mistake, the viking held up his hands. “Nono, it’s great and all, I just…didn’t think you’d be a bat-man.” He cleared his throat. “I owe you one. The name’s Erik–Erik the Swift! What should I call ye?”

“I am Heismay Noctule,” the eugief told him, sheathing his blade. “What were you doing in a suitcase?”

“I climbed in tryin’ to hide from those wretched monsters, only to lock myself in,” Erik explained as he got up. “Wasn’t too bad, mind ye…kind of cozy, actually…but it was startin’ to get a bit stuffy.” He picked up and put on his one-horned helmet, then straightened it. “Ah, that’s better. It’s not just me though, see. My brothers, Baleog and Olaf, are around here somewhere. We got stuck here a few days ago. Found this strange doohickey and tried to call for help, but the monsters found us, and we got separated while runnin’.” Erik rubbed his head anxiously. “Any chance you can help me find ‘em? The three of us, we’re a package deal. Don’t know what I’d do without ‘em.”

Heismay nodded sympathetically. “I’ll inform my comrades. We can certainly keep an eye out. Meanwhile, you should stay with us, in our stagecoach. We…look out!”

Suddenly, Heismay dove into hiding behind a crate. Without question, Erik dove back into his suitcase with a yelp. The reason why was obvious: a horrific monstrosity had just reached the bottom of the stairs. It took a second for Heismay to even realize what he was looking at, but the realization was dreadful indeed; it was the corpses of the two carcasses he just dispatched, reanimated and fused together in hideous fashion. A single head lolled atop the mass as it crawled on three arms and one leg, the severed fourth limb dangling behind it like a tail as the rags of its dresses hung from its fused flesh. Heismay shivered, his breathing heightened. “I killed them…I killed them!” he hissed. None of the others had come back, so why now?

He steadied his breathing. How it came back was of no concern to him. Only eliminating it for good. As far as he could tell, the horror hadn’t detected him, and had in fact turned away to hobble back up the stairs. Time to make his move. Heismay leaped out from behind cover. “Thief!” Transforming, he launched a Mudo at the abomination, then charged after it with his curved greatsword raised. “HaaaaAH!” Though the monster had a second to prepare, it did not attempt to defend itself, so Heismay slashed away. After a moment its pieces fell to the floor, turning to ash as Heismay changed back. His chest heaved as he tried to shake off the chills running down his spine. “We’re clear,” he called back.

When he heard only rattling and muffled yells in reply, Heismay looked back to find that Erik had locked himself in that suitcase again. With a sigh, the eugief jogged back over to free him again.

Before moving on, they took a quick look around. There were still some usable items strewn around the former hideout.



Heismay saw the immediate value in the fire abrasive, the function of which he could intuit from its resemblance to a weapon grinder and fiery nature. The shot put looked destructive, but better used in the hands of someone of great physical strength, like Ace or Ganondorf. Since it was so heavy, Heismay gave it to Erik to carry. It was less clear how to use the crystal and bur, but maybe Sectonia could figure it out; she seemed magical enough. Most perplexing by far was the box labeled Ratshaker. When the eugief reluctantly opened it, he could only stare in confusion at the strange, unmoving rat in his hand. After a moment he reluctantly tried shaking it. “Aaaaaa, aaaaaa, aaaaaa-aaaaa-aaaaa,” it went, not so loudly that it startled Heismay, but still unpleasant, especially with the Ratshaker Meter that briefly seared itself into the middle of his vision.

“I don’t like this thing,” he decided. Maybe Sectonia could figure it out, too.

He and Erik carefully made their way back to the group. Ignorant of Blazermate’s abilities, Heismay proceeded to warn everyone about the phenomenon he’d observed once he introduced Erik. “Bad news, everyone. These horrors can reanimate even after they seem dead, and combine themselves into larger, even more horrible monsters. We must be extra vigilant.” Narrowing his eyes, he held up the rat. “And can someone take this? I get the feeling it might be useful, but ever since I tried shaking it, I’ve been hearing whispers…”

“And, of course, this is the main dojo area.” Lee Dao-Long said as he and Captain Falcon completed the brief tour of the Breakers Dojo. The dojo itself was humble, but had all the necessary amenities. And as a bonus, it was kept in quite good shape compared to some of its other contemporaries in the Lower Tier. Clearly Jin Sawamura had pride in the upkeep of this dojo despite its humble status. “That should just about do it, I think. I trust you can find everything okay, Captain?”

”Of course.” Falcon said, grateful for the tour given to him by his new acquaintance. ”I appreciate it, Lee.” He added giving the young man a firm handshake. ”I did have some questions about how to register for the Tournament, too. Anything you can tell me?”

“Ah, for that you’ll need to find a combot.” Lee said, “They’re these robotic mascot characters that can be found all over Esaka. Just find one and let it know your name, the dojo you represent, and which tournament you’re entering.”

”That simple, eh?” Cap said, ”I’d better go look for one, then. Thanks again, Lee.”

“Hold on, Captain.” Lee said before Falcon could leave. “You mentioned earlier that you wanted to enter the King of Fighters, right?”

”Yep, that’s the one. Why?” Cap asked curiously.

“That one has a few… special rules compared to the others.” Lee explained, “Namely, you’ll need to be on a 3-man team in order to fight in it. And not for tag-matches either. You each fight one after the other, if you defeat your opponent, you’ll immediately move on to their next in line. Once you drop the person behind you will be able to step in and pick up where you left off.”

”Ah…” Cap mused. Now that he thought about it, he did remember Terry mentioning that he needed a team for the KOF. ”...so I’ll have to get two fighters from here who are willing to join me?”

Lee shook his head. “Not necessarily. KOF teams don’t absolutely have to consist of fighters from the same dojo. In fact it’s fairly common for teams to be mixed and matched, especially here in the Lower Tier.”

”Ah, well that simplifies things.” Cap said with a hint of relief in his voice. He just needed to find Terry and all they had to do then was grab a third member and they’d be golden. ”I better get going. I’ve got some recruiting to do and not a lot of time to do it. See ya later, Lee! Hope to face you in a match soon.”

“Same here, Captain.” Lee said as he watched the bounty hunter take his leave, “Good luck to you.”



Once outside, Cap knew he had to move fast. Time was running short to register for the tournaments and he needed to get a team together. If he could find Terry, that would at least one down since the bruiser did seem interesting teaming up earlier. That just meant they’d have to find a third fighter. Maybe one of the other Seekers? Or maybe Terry knew someone? Well, no time like the present.

”Let’s see, how does this work?” Cap murmured to himself as he fumbled with his linkpearl and attempted to figure out how to make it work. Magic things like this were obviously not his forte. ”I think I just… squeeze it right?”

Eventually, Captain Falcon managed to figure out the linkpearl and got his activated. ”Ahem, is thing on? Terry, can you hear me? It’s Falcon. Got myself signed up at a dojo so we’re good to form a team for the King Of Fighters if you’re still interested. Let’s meet up and do this thing, but we’d better hurry. Clock’s ticking on the registrations.”

Without anything responding to her calls, Mokou continues walking, her lone steps echoing off of the boardwalk as she moves on. Surprisingly, nothing else chooses to jump out at her in the moment, either frightened by Mokou’s presence… Or frightened by something else that lurked in this area. Either way, Mokou didn’t mind, it was a bit more peaceful now that she could look at the sights. All the exciting, frozen over sights that just screamed of intrigue.

Another sigh escapes Mokou’s lips as she keeps walking, kicking the floor as she walks and knocking off snow and ice from the boardwalk. As per usual, her boredom was a constant plague. She had seen dozens upon dozens of frozen buildings and locals, and even this park of horrors barely excited her at this point. Yet out of the corner of her eye, Mokou spotted something that actually did catch her attention: A small building that seemed to be a staff center: Wide open and abandoned, much like the rest of the complex. It was different from the ransacked gift shops and empty exhibits, and that was enough to get Mokou to shift her direction, idly walking into the darkened building, “Hey, any vikings in here?” she asked as she approached, knocking on the door frame to get anything’s attention before entering the building proper.



Mokou glances around the main room, whistling a little tune as her feet echo off the ground, taking note of everything she noticed. Truthfully, nothing in this location was of actual interest for Mokou. But even still, she could recognize some value in what she was looking at. Ignoring most of the debris and frozen meat, Mokou walks over to the hanging zoo worker attire, raising a finger to the clothing before a concentrated flame appears over it. Then, slowly and carefully, Mokou burns a square off of the shirt, specifically cutting off a patch that designated the outfit’s role while also snuffing out any chance of the rest of the outfit igniting. She wasn’t sure if any scanners would accept it, but hey, it would save her some energy burning the door down. With it in hand, Mokou turns on her heel, walking back the way she came… Whilst also picking up a crowbar that was resting on a crate.

Mokou acquires: A crowbar along with Zookeeper patches!

With her loot in tow, Mokou continues her travel throughout the zoo, continuing to call out to any vikings that may or may not be listening. Eventually, her walk takes her to a small clearing, that seemed to have once been a small gathering place, with a few empty exhibits and a frozen waterfall. In an instant, Mokou came to a stop as she took notice of a mass of grey flesh within the clearing. One that was clearly moving, having also noticed her approach, pushing itself off of the ground and turning to face her. Much like the beasts before, this one had clearly, once, been an elephant… But was now horrifically mutated, a massive growth residing on its head and various tendrils hanging off of it. The rest of its body was hardly pleasant either, but that was to be expected of a place like this.

Once it had fully turned around, the elephant roared, before rapidly crawling towards Mokou, kicking up a cloud of snow as it did so. Mokou, for her part, hardly seemed phased by its charge, casually dropping her new crowbar onto the ground, before her free hand rose, a ball of flame forming in her hand. She was growing a bit tired of her own theatrics. Thus, she simply met the charge by unleashing a stream of fire towards it, engulfing the monster entirely. Yet even with the flame, the beast refused to slow down, charging through the fire… And finding nothing as Mokou leapt up, hopping onto its back, and then casually stepping off behind it.

With a small flick, Mokou disperses some of the lingering fire from her fingers, turning around to face the beast again as it recovered, before a pair of rotting hooves slammed directly into her face, the creature having kicked out with its mutated hindlegs to catch her off guard. Mokou herself is sent flying from the force, crashing into the ground and tumbling over herself before finally rolling to her feet, staggering slightly as she recovered from the blow. For a brief moment the girl blinks in surprise, a small smile forming on her face before she spits upon the ground, staining it with red. The creatures here were freaks, that was for sure, but the mutations gave them an element of surprise that Mokou was consistently surprised by. The fact that this elephant had horse legs that were still functional was not what she had expected, but it was something that led it to be able to land a hit on her, something no other creature she had encountered here could boast.

With a small spring in her step, Mokou brushes a hair from her face as she approaches the beast, right as they swung their body to the side to catch her approach. But, as with before, Mokou simply hops back a bit, a small fingersnap emitting a jet of flame that scorches its face, causing them to cry in pain before pushing itself off the ground, momentarily supporting itself on its hind legs before slamming its body to the ground, a move that was once again avoided by Mokou simply sliding underneath it as it rose. Now behind it, Mokou simply shakes her hand, casually walking over to the crowbar she had discarded and kicking it into the air in order to catch it.

For a brief moment, Mokou twirls the weapon in her hand, her eyes narrowing as she focused on something… Before the crowbar suddenly ignites into flames, Mokou adjusting her grip to hold it as a javelin, aiming for a second as the elephant turns back around to face her. And in that moment, Mokou throws, the ignited metal launching forth and impaling itself straight into the bulbous growth on its head, a loud roar emanating from the beast as it staggers back, black blood gushing from the wound.

A few seconds pass as Mokou simply watches the beast’s agony, waiting to see what it would do in response. It had already surprised her multiple times, so she felt like it could do it this time as well. Sure enough, after a few moments, the growth began to pulse, a larger spray of blood erupting from it before it exploded, sending the crowbar flying out and nearly striking Mokou head on, just barely going past her head and impaling itself into the ground. Mokou, for her part, barely reacted to the crowbar, instead raising an eyebrow as she witnessed what the beast had done.

Specifically, the growth had erupted into a massive ‘trunk’, and upon it were the heads of a variety of animals, with a massive crocodile head resting at the end. Each head screeched in agony, a mist of white smoke trailing from their mouths before the beast refocused its attention on Mokou, each head roaring at her… A sight that caused Mokou to simply roll her shoulders.

With that, the two forces charged at each other, their clash becoming more chaotic with the addition of the new neck of heads. Each head snapped at Mokou as the trunk flailed about, each barely unable to catch the girl as she continued to dodge and toy with the beast, not even bothering to go on her own offensive aside from the occasional small blast of fire that scorched its hide. Truthfully, Mokou was simply trying to get the beast to offer any more surprises. The mist that it spewed out seemed interesting at first, but wherever it lingered, her flames easily dispersed it. Evidently, with how it seemed to add another layer of frost to the ground, the mist was some kind of freezing gas… Which was hardly something for her to worry about. With the beast seemingly out of surprises to catch her off guard, Mokou let out a loud sigh as she once again leapt over the beast’s neck, lamenting her situation as her hand prepares to snap once more and launch a wave of flame.

And then she felt something clamp down on her leg.

In an instant, her momentum was shifted as she was brought along with the neck of the beast, a stray hyena head having managed to catch her mid jump, before letting her go and causing her to slam into the ground. With a groan that indicated more annoyance than actual pain, Mokou pushed herself off the ground… Only for the crocodile head to clamp down upon her torso, lifting her off the ground before it began to angrily shake her in the air.

Mokou grimaced as she was flung around within the beast’s jaws. She couldn’t feel her torso anymore, and she could feel whatever gas the beast emitted seeping into her, freezing her from the inside. Yet, she didn’t scream or writhe in pain… In fact, after a few moments, a small grin formed on her face. Despite the agony, Mokou felt alive for a brief moment, and even though the cold spread within her, she could feel her heart burning, blood pumping in response to the thrill of the fight. Ultimately, she knew that this was pointless, that the beast could never hope to kill her no matter how hard it tried…

But for the moment, she could thrive in its attempt.

With a crack, Mokou rapidly ignited, her body turning to ash within the beast’s maw, resulting in them scorching themselves as they clamped down on the flame, screeching in pain as it staggered back. In its wake, a small orb of light floated in the air… Before it erupted into a pillar of blue flames, the force of which causing the beast to stumble further as the fire roared towards the sky, swiftly shifting its blue hue to a standard orange before dissipating as quickly as it appeared, revealing the unmarred form of Mokou slowly floating back to the ground. The girl regarded the beast with both of her hands in her pocket, her expression shifting from dispassionate to a small trace of excitement, “Alright, you’re a bit tougher than the other freaks here” Mokou comments as a pair of wings blazed into existence behind her, slowly lifting the girl off of the ground, “Let’s see how much longer you can bear the heat.”

With that, Mokou’s hand shot out to the side, her fingers snapping as the air around her shimmered with heat, dozens of small ‘feathers’ of fire appearing around her and shifting to aim at the beast. Finally staggering to its feet, the beast regards Mokou’s wings and feathers with a multitude of mutated eyes, before each mouth screeched in unison, a wave of freezing mist pouring from the beast as it charged forward. It did not have the capacity to understand how Mokou was still alive or the threat she posed, but it knew one thing: Something was alive and moving, and it had to silence it. In a way, Mokou could respect the simplicity. But it hardly stopped her from moving her arm forward, sending a barrage of feathers down at the creature, her wings flying her backwards as it simply plowed through her assault and attempted to snatch her from the sky with its jaws.

“Fools!” Mondu exclaimed. “Don’t just sit there and watch! Get him!”

It took quite a while for the fat man to regain consciousness. He could still sense the pain that Terry had inflicted towards the end of the bout, both of his faces flinching in agony. Mondu was unable to move, let alone fighting back. Never had he thought that there would’ve been a day where he was beaten so badly to the point where he immediately passed out barely a minute into the fray.

And so, as the Lord of the Fight Palace commanded, his army of space warriors left their seats to surround their newfound nemesis, defending the dojo’s honour. They began attacking Terry in their own unique ways. A variety of moves were used simultaneously, most notably a whipping, biting hair, a series of web balls, and… a fart? Really? Seriously asking here, but how was that supposed to do anything against a fighter of Terry’s caliber?

Two things were for sure, though. First things first, they were mere palette swaps of one another, meaning that they fought in similar ways. Second, and lastly, they only knew one special move and zero supers, making them awfully ham-fisted and predictable. Just when he thought Power Athlete was already quite bad for simply teaching their students two special moves, this one was a lot worse. Even their simplest of techniques could not redeem their incapability in the battleground, as they seemed far too clunky and robotic. Perhaps, those gnarly space creatures were a lot worse than when he faced their champion prior, and funnily enough, Rex was just an average human!

Gosh, dude, this is so bad, Terry mused, all while using his wrists to parry their attacks alternately. Like really awful! These freaks are way too clumsy. How’re they supposed to fight for their lives, anyway?

Though, despite their incapability, he had to admit they at least managed to break through his defense slowly but surely, forcing him to receive the barest hints of chip damage. Eventually, when Terry’s defensive stance was completely shattered, the space warriors pushed him between themselves using light attacks, making him seem like a basketball that was being tossed around from one teammate to another. The former KOF champion wasn’t hurt, nope. Moreover, he was exasperated, especially now that the gnarly creatures roared aloud to his ears.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I get it! You wanna say ‘radda, radda, radda,’ ain’t that right?” Terry repeated, hilariously trying to mimic their roaring noises. “Just cut the damn noise already! Jesus Christ, you guys! I swear to God, wait till I give you a taste of Mother Earth’s power!”

Thanks to those obnoxious flails, Terry managed to fill up his super meter, albeit at a gradual pace. He now had two gauge stocks ready to be used against his opponents again. Without hesitation, he spread his arms out, unleashing a gust of blue aura that blew the surrounding space warriors away. They were stunned.

FWOOSH!

“Hakkyokuseiken’s final technique…”

Was it just him or was there some rocking melodies suddenly playing aloud in the background? It could’ve been echoing out of Clean Hits or Pao Pao Café 7, though, but either way, it sure helped him fire up. Utilizing one of the stocks, he hurled his boot out and spun, channeling the ki-energy he’d been saving into a vortex that surrounded his spinning form. He could feel his brightly-hued cap flying out of the golden crown of his head, as the murky wind gathered around him. He began moving the vortex around, making sure it grazed against each and every space warrior on sight.

“SENPUUKEN!!!”

As expected, the vortex easily connected, sending Mondu’s space stooges flying out of the stadium-like dojo akin to a bunch of bowling pins. Once the arena was cleared, Terry landed on both of his boots, the wind around him dissipating. He took a deep breath, then smiled, picking up the gaudy red cap scattering close to his boot. The cap would then be used to wipe the dust covering his jeans.

“Phew…” he sighed in relief, then sported his cap back, turning his attention towards the crowd across him. Although they’d been shrinking in numbers, they were still as loud as ever. Jokingly, the three-time KOF champion whistled in the direction of the verdant alien responsible for the betting game, subsequently clapping his hands. “Yo, ‘Grinch!’” he shouted aloud. “Where’s my prize money at?”

The verdant alien scrunched his face—not because of the nickname, but because of the fact that he had to spend a lot of the money earned from the prior betting game. He was Mondu’s trustworthy treasurer, after all, so it was his job to reward the winning competitors with prize money. And the more competitors one defeated in the fight pit, the more money needed to be given, especially now that the entire roster was knocked out. Oh, fuck me! I’m so going outta business, he protested inwardly before shouting back at Terry with a high-pitched voice. “Not so fast, blondie! You’ll get your money when you beat that damn bull!”

When the alien pointed to his left, Terry’s keen blue eyes followed suit, only to take an enormous sight of a half-man, half-buffalo ramming a pair of horns in his direction. Although taken aback, Terry still managed to narrowly evade, his white shirt slightly torn by one of the horns. As an impact, he spun around comically, his pose making it seem like he was performing the least eloquent pirouette ever performed.

“Gwahh–!!”

For a moment, he was rendered unbalanced, but managed to steady himself, eventually. Shaking his head, he turned to face the charging man-buffalo in his path, his fighting stance assumed. “C’mon, ‘Motaro,’ bring it!” he challenged with a grin, although the man-buffalo’s name was, in reality, ‘Ramses.’

With puffs of breath escaping his nostrils, Ramses retracted his bowing form back, then lunged in Terry’s direction again, making one huge leap after another. Being the last space warrior standing, he was determined to defeat the Legendary Wolf to defend the slightest hints of honour left in his dojo’s name. Terry, too, was determined to flail the living hell out of the violet man-buffalo, aiming at the promised prize money ahead. With one of his clenched fists charged in blue flame, he swiftly drew himself towards the approaching opponent, ramming forth a fiery flail.

“BURN KNUCKLE!!”

However, before their ramming attacks managed to collide with each other…

POW!

…Somebody had knocked Ramses out cold with a leaping kick to the spine, gradually crumpling him forth. Terry quickly halted his dashing form, braking right in front of Ramses’ motionless figure. Rather than focusing on his reclining opponent, he focused on the attacker landing right across his current position, and much to his surprise, the attacker seemed to be…

“Rex??”

A pleasant surprise, indeed, but he couldn’t be too certain yet. The man standing in front of him did resemble the prior champion he faced not too long ago, though his complexion was more reddish than it was tanned. Could this truly be Rex or was the attacker somebody related to him?

“Nah, dawg,” the attacker finally revealed, shaking his head. “Rex’s long gone, ain’t he? This is M.C. Fire you’re lookin’ at, homie. Glad to help.”

As M.C. Fire extended a hand, Terry accepted it, shaking his hands. “Appreciate it, man! But, damn… There goes my prize money, I guess,” he joked, then shrugged his shoulders, both grateful and disappointed. “So, it’s ‘M.C. Fire,’ huh? I’ll keep that in mind. The name’s Terry, though. Terry Bogard. Say, are you Rex’s twin brother or something?”

Fire shook his head, snickering. “Nah, man, we’re just lookalikes, y’know,” he answered. “Ain’t nothin’ to do with my homie Rex other than comin’ from the same planet. And it just so happens that we came from the same country, too. He’s from LA, while ya boy M.C. Fire here’s for the jazzy streets of NYC.”

Terry grinned, amused by how Fire rhymed his words a little. “Same! I was an American, too. Used to live in South Town before I ended up here,” he told the red-skinned man. “Say, uh, you called yourself ‘M.C.,’ right? Are you supposed to be rappin’ or somethin’ like that?”

Fire nodded, then smiled widely, his expression lighting up. “Yeah, I’m one o’ those MCs, for sure! Used to be in the hood before I started rappin’ and tappin’. First album was ‘Torch the Place,’ and homie, I tell ya what, that shit was a hit! Those rhymes still make some dimes till these days. You better check ’em out, though, homie.”

Terry snickered, even more impressed that some of Fire’s words seemed to be rhyming so flawlessly. “Aww, rad! Now, honestly, I’m more of a rock and country guy, but I do love me some good ol’ lyrical rap,” he admitted, his smile just as wide. “Do they sell your album at Clean Hits?”

Fire nodded the second time. “For sure!” he answered, his voice a hint of pride. “It was the best-sellin’ album, dawg! ’Course, they ain’t gonna leave the shit out.” Somehow, Terry could tell that there was a bit of exaggeration in his voice, considering he’d only heard about the album’s existence just now. However, since he liked the way the guy rapped, it shouldn’t hurt to give his tracks a try, he thought. “Yeah, yeah, sure, bud! Thinking of going there soon to give that album of yours a try. And… oh!” Terry’s eyes widened in realization. Speaking of Clean Hits, he just remembered that since anybody could join this edition of the KOF tournament, he was required to register his own team there. “Aww, man! I haven’t found one last teammate for the KOF tournament yet,” Terry said, his gloved palm smacking his forehead. “Tournament? What tournament?” Then, before Terry could answer Fire, his linkpearl gently vibrated. It seemed that there was a call he had to accept from either one or more Seekers visiting Esaka. “Sorry, Fire, but I gotta go. Got a phone call to accept,” he apologized before turning against Fire’s direction, only for the latter to hold him by the wrist. “Wait, homie, don’t go yet!” he begged with shimmering eyes, prompting Terry to turn in his direction again. “I just wanna say that I, uh… thank you for beatin’ the shit outta those alien freaks. You got no idea, homie, but they been keepin’ me and Rex hostage for too damn long here. All I ever wanted is to be free again, and thank God, now I’m free, man. Bless your soul.”

Terry arched his eyebrows, both surprised and touched by the words that Fire had just spoken. The way his eyes glistened, it was clear that he’d endured so much pain while being abused and forced to be part of Mondu’s dojo. “Wait, they’re kidnapping you guys?” he asked, pointing a finger at Fire.

Fire weakly nodded. “Mhm… No cap, man! Been tryna run away, but that damn shark kept holdin’ me back,” he answered, referring to the prior verdant shark swallowing Rex alive. “Thought I ain’t gonna make it out alive, but here you are, Terry, givin’ me a chance to get outta that cell while everybody’s busy gettin’ their asses kicked. Wish Rex could make it out alive, too…”

“Aww, man…” Terry sighed, visibly devastated. “Seriously, I had no idea. But damn… I knew I should’ve known better. Maybe Rex would’ve still been here if I didn’t kick his ass, too.” He fidgeted and scratched his barely bruised cheek, still not expecting the outcome of their match to cost the undisputed champion his life.

“It’s alright. Not your fault, homie,” Fire reassured, then patted Terry’s shoulder, his smile wry. “I know you’ve done your best. It was the fat guy’s fault. You was only dragged here ’cause he wrongly accused you of somethin’, ain’t he?”

“Yeah…” Terry nodded in reciprocation, tucking his thumbs beneath his pockets. “And it ain’t like I did any of the stuff he accused me of doing, either. Maybe if he could’ve just listened, your boy would’ve still been okay.” He took another deep breath, then lifted his face again, his eyes equally shimmering. “But hey, it’s always been a pleasure to help! I’m sorry about Rex, alright? Hope he rests well…”

Fire closed his eyes, then nodded. “Yeah, I’m gonna miss you, G,” he said weakly, as if Rex was still nearby. He exhaled a deep, deep breath.

Then, just as Terry was about to mourn with Fire, his ears caught a loud noise of snapping fingers from beyond the arena. As it turned out, the source of the noise came from the prior verdant alien by the sidelines, his raised hands holding a pair of small, leather pouches. One by one, the pouches were tossed, and Terry quickly caught each of them.

“Here, your prize money!” the alien shouted aloud and huffed before hopping out of his seat to leave the dojo. “Don’t ever come back here ever again!”

With both pouches now in his hands, Terry decided to inspect what the alien had given him, though he still kept the content sealed underneath the pouches. Judging by the sound they were making, he could only assume there were mostly coins hiding underneath the leather pouches. “Hey, man, before I go, I don’t think it’d be fair if I keep the prize all to myself,” he told Fire before handing him a bigger pouch, stowing the other into his pocket. “Here, for you! After all that happened, I believe you deserve this more than I do.”

Fire hesitated, stifling his hands from reaching the bag full of coins. “For me?” he asked. “Y– You sure ’bout this, homie? I mean—”

Terry shushed. “No buts, pal. Just take it,” he insisted. “And I mean it. We’re homies now. Consider this my way of repaying you for the help back then.”

Fire glanced down, shimmering eyes fixating on the money pouch right in front of him. While he did join the fray at the last minute, he didn’t think he deserved to be rewarded as much as Terry did. He pondered briefly. “Well…” After a brief consideration, he eventually chose to accept the pouch, visibly taken aback by the gesture of kindness. “Thanks, homie! You’re way too kind, y’know that? Ain’t anybody I met was ever as good as you and Rex.”

Terry snickered, flattered. “Nah, man, you’re exaggerating! Just gotta do what I gotta do as a human being, y’know,” he said modestly, shrugging. “Well, it’s been fun talkin’ with ya. Hope we get to meet again someday. Whenever that is…”

And so, after the crowd had dissolved, Terry and Fire parted ways. As he drew his strides farther and farther away from Mondu’s Fight Palace, Terry eagerly tapped the linkpearl attached to his ear, hilariously trying so hard to accept the call from his newfound comrades. His face furrowed and scrunched, a hint of frustration visibly shown.

Dammit… Why’s it so hard to use this thing!?

He thought he might need to hold the linkpearl a little longer, so his index finger pressed its circular surface slightly harder. Much to his delight, his attempt worked. At long last! Clear as crystal, he could now hear the voices of Pit and Zenkichi through the jewel-like earpiece.

“Oh…” Terry quietly mumbled, instantly halting his strides. He sheepishly snickered. “Well, that wasn’t as hard as I imagined. But anyway, can you guys hear me?”

Over the linkpearl, Terry would listen intently, as his comrades talked about registering for the tournaments of their choices. He continued walking, his strides moving swifter than usual. He knew that he had not much time left to register. From the looks of it, he seemed to be the last few Seekers yet to register for a tournament, which was oddly funny, perhaps, since he and his Team Fatal Fury were normally one of the first in line to sign up for competitions like this. If only Andy or Joe or anybody he knew and held the dearest was around, he wouldn’t have had that much of a trouble registering a team for a KOF tournament. As he gave ear to Pit’s suggestion, he chimed in, entertaining the notion.

“Alright, that’s a fine idea there, erm… Pit? Pit, that’s your name, right?” It felt like something clicked in his mind all of a sudden when he mentioned the winged angel’s name, as if he was retrieving an old memory that’d been collecting dust for so long. Perhaps, he’d started to remember some of the Seekers’ names or maybe it was simply because he heard each of them calling each other’s name prior to splitting up. “Think that’s the best way we got to approach the Four Kings if that’s what we’re aiming for.” Then, suddenly, an idea crossed his mind, an imaginary light bulb popping close to his temple. “Actually, there’s another way we can enter the same tournament without fighting each other. Cap and I are gonna register for the KOF tournament as a team. All we need now is a third person before we get to sign up, though. Is anybody interested in joining us?” And speaking of Cap, his voice showed up not long after, seemingly unsure if his linkpearl had been properly activated. “Ah, there you are, Cap! Thought I was the only one struggling with this thing,” he responded with a snicker. “Aww, sweet! Yeah, I do think we gotta meet up ASAP. We ain’t got much time left. I’ll be at Pao Pao with the gang shortly, so just meet me up there, alright? Are you nearby?”

As he said so, Terry managed to reach the front door of his favorite hangout spot, pushing the panel open. It was still the same bronze-hued interior from when he visited the café this morning—just a lot busier now since it was already lunch. The first thing he’d heard was the owner, Richard, welcoming the Seekers to the café from right across his counter before Terry eventually drew his attention.

“Ah, there you are, Terry! Welcome— oh…”

His eyes widened, and his face froze, jaw dropped at the untidy sight of the hat-wearing bruiser, as the latter strolled then stood between his crew’s table and the owner’s counter. Terry was every bit as awful as he was following the rabid meet-and-greet session with his fangirls—even worse following the prior fisticuffs. His shirt was tainted and torn, his platinum long hair disheveled, and the fading lip tints still decked his cheeks and neck. He lowered his duffle bag, gloved hands raising and extending.

“Don’t ask,” Terry told both Richard and the crew, his blue eyes motioning between them. “I know I’m messed up. It’s a long story, but… you guys, this is Richard. Richard, this is my new team.” As Terry introduced, a tired smile was managed by the lower half of his face. “So… since I just won some fights early on, I figure I wanna treat you guys to lunch. Say, um, got anything to eat?”

FIN.

Almost immediately after his message, Zenkichi received a response from Pit. ”Oh, right. I’m…fighting in the Tekken tournament.” And oh god that was a thing that he just unironically said. It’d be one thing if he meant in an arcade, though that would indicate a…very strange trajectory that his life had went on, but no, he meant that he, Zenkichi Hasegawa, was going to fight in a Tekken tournament. Boy, Galeem sure had a sick sense of humor.

”Yeah, that makes sense. Especially if we wanna get anything out of the Four Kings.” He added after a beat. As he made his way to the restaurant that he remembered Terry talking about (it was a little hard to miss, actually), a few others piped up, talking as he joined the assembled Seekers at their table and placed his order, for Korean-style barbecue and a glass of water.

Zenkichi’s reaction to Nadia joining the Mortal Kombat was more subdued than Band’s, but just as incredulous. His eyes near bugged out of his head, but her explanation had him nodding along. The deception wouldn’t last long, but he doubted the Heavenly Principles would outright kill her for…not dying? They wouldn’t, right? And anything else was little more than a slap on the wrist. The Seekers weren’t making a permanent stay here, so a ban from the tournament wouldn’t exactly be a real punishment.

Terry’s arrival was met with a questioning look from Richard, the establishment’s owner, and Zenkichi winced when he saw how beat up the man looked. ”Jeeze, Terry, you look like you had a bad run-in with a blender.” he joked, waving to him. ”But I’m certainly not going to say no to being treated to food. Looks like we’re getting set up pretty well. I wonder how the kids are doing, though. I know they’re tough, but I’m wondering if just…letting them run off without somebody going to watch after them was a good idea.” His thoughts turned to Akane, and while the situations weren’t…exactly the same, he had to admit that he wasn’t exactly the most present parent or guardian.

Shaking off the thought, he turned to the others. ”So, I’m in Tekken, Nadia’s in Mortal Kombat, Terry’s doing King of Fighters with Captain Falcon, that’s already a good spread. We just go through the tournaments, then…what exactly? I’m just wondering what exactly that gets us, aside from money. Unless the Heavenly Principles are stopping us from just sneaking around or busting down doors…what’s stopping us from that to find the Guardian? We didn’t exactly follow the law in Midgar.” While he appreciated the relatively low-stakes break, part of him was itching to just get to the bottom of where the Guardian was.

Once he’d finished discussing how to achieve immortality and he had done a bit of scouting and ascertained that they weren't about to be swarmed while sitting about by the door, Edward set about some remote resource acquisition.

A squad of copper golems were constructed, replacing a lost scout drone, and sent to go back outside to gather up the blighted mandril spirits. Meanwhile, his inferno hound squad out into the halls and then directed them to head for a room he’d spotted while scouting.

The room in question was labeled ‘fallen frosty friends’ and by the descriptions on the exhibits it had contained the bones and fossils of a number of species that, like the mammoth, had existed during the ‘ice age’ but that had then gone extinct after the climate warmed up.

These descriptions were all he got out of the exhibit, because someone had pillaged the room at some point, and run off with most of the bones. Or rather, had used them as crafting materials using a scrap anvil made mostly of melted down railings. The looter had even had the gall to leave some of the results of this behind, in the form of a trio of bone javalins. One was embedded in the doorframe, another lay in slashes in the carpet they’d sliced, and a final one was stuck into one of the plaques, which was the height of rudeness really. Even if he had sent the inferno hounds here to loot them himself, Edward was only doing so now that the damage was done, rather than vandalising perfectly preserved scientific specimens and then chucking them around willy-nilly for the fun of it.

Then again, now that he was giving the room a closer look, rather than having the scout skim through it, there was more damage to the room. For example, there was a pile of rubble and ash that might be the flattened remains of a forge, for example, presumably used in conjunction with, or to make, the anvil. There was also some discarded, damaged, wooden armor.

There’d probably been a fight here.

The question was with what.

Suddenly, from outside, the hounds' ears picked up a heavy shuffling sound, prompting Edward to get them to exit the room, and in so doing finding out what had ben fought in the room. About a dozen of more javelins were embedded in the lumbering form of a fatty brute, a fact the towering blighted human seemed to not really care about one bit.

It did care about the hounds, which prompted it to increase the speed of its approach from glacial to steamroller trundle, really taking away from its intimidation factor.

Much more concerning was the pack of oversized rats that were following it around, who were about a head shorter than the inferno hounds while also outnumbering them 5 to 2. Also, unlike the inferno hounds, they could split up, which they immediately did, racing along the corridor, hugging the far wall, and seemingly trying to hem in their prey so that the brute could catch up and pulverize them.

They had gnashing jaws, yes, but as Edward was aware, from a glance he’d gotten before he’d lost a drone squad, they also had another trick up their sleeves.

Unfortunately for them, it was a poor one to use against the inferno hounds. As the front runner of the rats whipped around and flicked its tail over its head to hurl a trio of fireballs at the fire resistant inferno hound, Edward had the beast just ignore them and lunge for the back runner. Jaws locked around the neck, claws slashed at flank, and both strikes ignited the wretched rodent.

The second to last rat pivoted and delivered a chomp of its own to the chomper, and got a mouthful of fire instead of blood for its efforts. Still, it did leave a mark, and those vicious teeth would have hurt, if the inferno hounds were capable of feeling pain. Instead they kept crushing the throat and clawing sides till one of five was down.

By that time the remaining four were on them, surrounding them, gnashing at them, pinning them in place while the spear field brute closed in slowly but surly.

In response to this, the inferno hounds arched their backs, there was the sound like a high pressure boiler, and then they vented flames. Flames burst out in all directions, searing the wall, carpet, and all but one of the rats, this lucky one having been hanging just a little back. The other three stumbled back, squealing and burning, and the inferno hounds exploited the gap, rushing between them to put the rats in between them and the brute. Then it rushed back in and mauled the rat who’d escaped the blast, igniting it as well.

That was all well and good, but the squad was still outnumbered, and the next 20 seconds were a battle of attrition as the rats plinked the squad with fireballs or nipped at it while they burned. Then the tide shifted as Edward got his copper golems into the fray, and with those on the field things quickly equalized, even if only because they got to be fireball bait instead given they were much weaker to it.

By the end of it the squads were both missing members, 5 rat spirits littered the floor, the hall was on fire in half a dozen places … and the brute was still lumbering towards them.

Edward had the copergolem pick up the spirits, grab the javelins from the room, and then had the remaining half of the inferno hound squad go in and test it, which resulted in one burning brute, and one banished squad as the lumbering thing’s arms proved to be capable of swifter movement. Its hammerblow of a strike had pulverised the weakened inferno hound into embers. Embers which it had then stomped over as it started heading towards the copper golem.

Still, even the golem could keep ahead of it, and so Edward came up with a plan, one which was also a training exercise.

As he baited the brute back towards the midnight walk, he fussed around arranging the Reindrix, and then once the Brut arrived around a corner, cast Designated Target and unleashed hell (frozen over).

At his command, all 8 Reindrix unleashed a barrage of ice spears, the row closest to the target crouched down so that the ones further away could shoot over their heads, resulting in 24 spikes joining the half dozen bone ones already buried in the fatty brute.

In hind sight, maybe doing the same thing and expecting a different result wasn’t the best plan, but volume of fire could make up for all sorts of shortcomings. Slamming a smiting bishop bullet into its head also helped, putting it down for good.

This did admittedly annihilate the javelins already stuck in it, but the odds of those being of any value once extracted had been very low anyway. Those in the ‘fallen frosty friends’ would have to do, and were added to the growing pile of items Edward was generating from the spirits he was crushing, mandril, rat and brute alike.



He was examining these supplies, and trying to work out if he even wanted to try and use/move the fat, when Heismay returned and showed them his squeezable rat. This prompted Edward to comment that ”Well, that sounds incredibly cursed, I must say” before gesturing at the rat on a stick and ratman stick ”may offer you one of these instead?” intending it to be humorous. He did however offer to have a copper golem take it in his, or anyone’s, stead.

@Lugubrious @DracoLunaris @MULTI_MEDIA_MAN

Harry Dubois

𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝒦𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾

Word Count: 523
Level: Lv: 6 EXP: (3/60)
Lv: 4 EXP: (5/40)
Location: Forbidden Kingdom - Esaka's Low Tier/ Pao Pao Cafe

Harry and Kim came into Dr.Zed’s clinic. Harry was leaning on Kim for support so he would not fall over. Zed was finishing up the embalming of a losing participant in the Mortal Kombat tournament when he noticed the two walking in. “Ah, hell's bells, what the hell happened to you?” This question was directed at Harry.

“We had to do something at the scrapyard. Ran into some weird creatures that attacked us.” Harry sat down on a chair as Zed started tending to his wound. During this period, Harry was answering questions on what exactly he was doing in the scrapyard. He looked annoyed that he went through hell to do a favour for Claptrap. They were not going to get much as a reward for doing this favour. But perhaps they were doing this out of kindness. The doctor hoped that they would at least they would get something good from the robot.

About an hour and a half later, Zed had finished tending and bandaging Harry’s wounds. Giving him some health vials to use to help with the pain. Harry paid Zed for his services, and they made their way out to go see Claptrap. For their efforts, they were given a minuscule amount of gold. But both men were glad to help the pitiful robot.

Next on the agenda, they went over to their respective dojos to sign up for the tournament. Harry signed up for the Tekken tournament, and Harry signed up for the Street Fighter tournament. After signing up, they started walking towards Pao Pao Cafe.

“Darn, this place is amazing.” Harry said while whistling loudly. Kim agreed, vaguely reminded of a similar restaurant back home. A waiter approached them, asking if they had a reservation. Kim mentioned to the waiter that they were a part of Big Band’s party. Kim and Harry sat down at the table with the other seekers. Both of them were going through the rounds of greetings to everyone. The other seekers could see that Harry was covered in bandages. And when prompted, Harry prattled on about a made-up story of how he got his wounds. Making himself look quite heroic.

Kim looked concerned when she heard Nadia mention that she was participating in the Mortal Kombat tournament. “Harry had signed up for the Street Fighter, and I signed up for the Tekken tournament.” Kim said before flagging down a nearby waiter to order some food.

After Harry finished his story he turned to Zenkichi. “Heck yeah, we’re gonna be in the same tourney. Hope you're ready, I just learned some cool moves from Sensei Dan.” Harry started doing some karate punches and chops. He made funny noises as he extended his arms. Kim grabbed his arm to ensure he wouldn't accidentally punch any waiters or patrons. Having a look of disappointment, and ordered a burger with fries and a soda to wash it all down. Kim ordered a glass of water and a garden salad.