Roland took a bit to make his rounds with his new 'job', seeing a various amount of muscle men and woman, many of which seemed to be a part of the Mortal Kombat track of fighting but there were a few that seemed to be on the other tracks. Well, if their memorabilia within their apartments were anything to go by anyway. They could just be fans, but since these meals were often sent to fighters... Regardless, Roland finished his job and gained some information on some of the fighters that the group might encounter, even if it was only through basic observations, and collected his money for the job done.

It was getting late, and while he did find an apartment of his own, he figured he should check in with the rest of the group. If he remembered right, some of them were at the Banished Flats, so Roland made his way there. Once he made his way there, he slipped into the group as Zenkichi was explaining their whole mission plan to Terry, whom had been removed from his galeeming.

"You know, the fact that everyone has red glowing eyes kinda makes the Consuls stick out. If they're not glowing and they're not us, they're probably a Consul. You'd think they'd wear red contacts or something to blend in with how we've taken out what was apparently their strongest member." Roland said, referring to the aforementioned A who's power seemed to be when he took enough damage to 'transition' to a new 'act', he forced someone to fall as a consequence.

Captain Falcon was naturally planning to join the rest of the Seekers at the Banishin’ Flats. But he wanted to make a short pit stop before he headed in. So rather than head straight for the Flats, he the bounty hunter made a detour back toward the Breakers Dojo. He wanted to check in real quick and let Sensei Sawamura know that his search for a KOF team had gone well. When he got there, he found both Sawamura and Lee. But they weren’t alone, and were joined by two others whom the Captain didn’t remember seeing at the dojo the first time he visited.

One of them was a young man about the same age as Lee. His gi looked similar to Sawamura’s, but it was blazing red and had two yellow stripes on each end of the blackbelt. He also looked like he had a small scar on his upper right right cheek, just below the eye. Despite that, he seemed to carry himself with a friendly enough demeanor. The other one was a a young woman, probably also around the same age as Lee. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She wore a sleeveless denim cutoff jacket over what appeared to be a red leotard. Her hands and forearms were wrapped in white bandages, and she wore red/white combat boots on her feet with tall socks poking up to cover her shins.

Lee and Sawamura introduced them as Sho and Tia. Both were friends of Lee, although Lee seemed to insist that ‘friend’ was a bit of a strong word, clearly preferring to think of them as rivals. Evidently Sho and Lee had previously been rivals in something called the FIST Tournament, which had gone defunct in favor of the World Warrior, King of the Iron Fist, Mortal Kombat, and KOF tournaments. And it was here they told the Captain that the three of them were going to enter the KOF as Team Breakers. Sho casually remarked that this was a bit of a surprise, since Lee had previously preferred fighting in the World Warrior tournament where he could go solo. “Hmm… I bet he’s just looking for an excuse to fight you again, Captain.” Sho had teasingly said, causing Lee to bristle with a denial that didn’t sound very convincing.

”Well, may the best team win, then.” Cap said, holding out a hand which Sho eagerly shook.

After departing from the Dojo, Cap finally made his way to the Banishing Flats. He was a little bit late, though from the looks of it Ms. Fortunate had also apparently arrived late as well. And he was just in time to catch the explanation of how things worked in the World of Light to Terry. ”Don’t worry about identifying the Consuls too much.” Cap said as he sat down and clapped the hat-wearing bruiser on the back. ”And to answer your question, Roland, the Consuls do seem to have a habit of wearing helmets that cover their faces. I’m guessing that’s how they mask their red eyes.”

”Oh, by the way, Terry.” Cap said, ”I just swung by the Breakers Dojo and they’re entering their own team into the KOF - Team Breakers. I guess I made an impression on Lee, since he insisted on entering the KOF instead of the World Warrior like he usually does.”

After returning from the radio station with Ace and now Tenna in tow, Ganondorf decided to scarf down a second bowl of stew. A man his size needed plenty to keep up his energy, and the warlord wanted to make sure his biomass had fully regenerated. But after that it was time to get on the move again. The procession of Seekers continued their way through the Midnight Walk, eventually reaching the snowfield. In this, Ganondorf was fortunate to be as tall as he was, since that meant the deep snow didn’t bother him like it would anyone else. And besides, no amount of snow would be nearly as frustrating to deal with as the Timefall had been, or especially some of the dirtier locations of the Under which still made the Gerudo groan at the thought of returning to.

What did bother him was the obnoxious monkeys throwing darts and generally showing that they were going to be a nuisance. Ganondorf grumbled to himself, convinced he was going to have to waste his energy on monkeys of all things. Even Roxas had started casting buffs in anticipation of a fight. But then the Seekers collectively elected to give the monkeys a wide berth and simply avoid them altogether. Normally Ganondorf would have scoffed at the idea of avoiding a battle. But for these monkeys, he decided he was going to make an exception. They probably would have been a waste of energy to deal with anyway.

Although Ganondorf wasn’t content to leave things to chance. He summoned a squad of Moblins to take potshots at the monkeys with their fire arrows while the stagecoach gave its wide berth. A security caution more than anything else. Otherwise, Ganondorf let himself be content to simply keep pace with the stagecoach and follow its lead for now. At this point the warlord was becoming increasingly eager to reach Edinbourgh, where Ace had said Consul L remained as well as the Flame Clock she was custodian of.

”Hmph, how much farther until we reach Edinbourgh?” Ganondorf grunted, asking no one in particular, although Sandalphon would certainly be the best equipped to answer the question.

Skyworld's lead angel spent the most of the rest of the afternoon getting a crash course in all things Kombat. As Ashrah agreed, she gave Pit all the information she had, from the basics to the complex, and now that she wasn't under Galeem's thrall she was able to point out some of the more odd happenings she knew of too. How quickly people came back to life here, how a fighter's natural style was altered as soon as they stepped into the ring for an official match... things she once took for granted, none the wiser of what was actually going on. Of course, Pit filled her in on how the World of Light worked in return. To her credit the demoness took it better than many others in her position, though she relayed that in the universe she hailed from, inter-realm travel, godly forces, and mental interference were all par for the course.

They'd traced the edges of the high tier as they spoke, with that little dog Yappy trailing after them, until the sky overhead darkened and the clouds swelled with rain. By that time, the chattering in Pit's ear from the linkpearl had shifted to a decided meeting place, so it was as good a time to split up from his new partner as any.

"One last thing!" Pit said as he and Ashrah rode the elevator back down to the Mid-Tier. He produced one of the pale gold pearls Primrose had given him and held it out to the demoness, who took it and held it up for inspection.

"If this is meant to be some kind of payment, rest assured I don't need any," she told him, but the angel shook his head.

"It's to communicate! You put it in your ear like this..." he explained, showing Ashrah how to use the magic device. It would make getting in touch with each other easy, should they ever need to outside of the tournament. It also meant that Ashrah could keep up with the Seekers' conversations should she wish to. Maybe, Pit thought, after everything was said and done in Esaka they'd even end up with a new member.

Tomorrow they'd meet back up again for the start of Mortal Kombat, but for now the two of them split up once the lift touched down to let them off. Pit hummed pleasantly to himself as he looked around for the Seekers' lodgings, feeling pretty accomplished. He'd gotten a kameo partner and had learned a ton of stuff, so he felt more than ready for the tournament. Now just to find the hotel (or whatever it was) and check in on everyone else!

Northeast side... next to a park... square with a wrestling belt... he thought to himself, repeating the description he'd heard Band call out over the pearl. With those directions in mind it wasn't a very long search, and soon enough Pit came upon what had to be Banishing Flats.

---

At the same time, his kameo partner stood outside the door to her dojo. Ashrah stared at the sign proudly reading Order of Light in bold caligraphy, the letters raised above an emblem showing a silhouette of a loong's head not unlike the official Mortal Kombat dojo's own icon. It was not so late that the building would be abandoned at this hour. With the tournament looming, she was sure there were more than a few members still inside, just as there had been when she'd left earlier. Members that were still under the spell of an otherworldly deity...

Ashrah gingerly touched the center of her chest and closed her eyes. With a little concentration she felt warmth begin to physically manifest under her fingers, just as Pit had showed her. She took a breath and dispelled it. Another breath and she opened her dark eyes once more, hard determination showing in them.

She summoned the Kris to her hand and stepped inside.

---

Yappy did not look pleased in the transition from High to Mid-Tier, his fur fluffed out and half a snarl on his face. He was a well-to-do dog! Well, he had been once. He didn't look the part now. But still! He should be afforded a certain level of luxury! He'd thought that following around the nice looking pair decked out in gold would at least lead to some gourmet table scraps, but so far nothing! Had he chosen wrong in following the boy when the duo had split up? Because right now he was outside some crappy looking wrestling hostel!

"Nobody told you to follow me!" Pit told him as he pushed open the door to Banishing Flats. Since Yappy didn't have a collar or anything, he had no way to try and find the animal's owner, if he even had one. For all Pit knew Yappy was some kind of battle dog or something, given the city they were in. Despite his displeasure, Yappy slipped into the building after the angel - he didn't want to get caught in the rain on the way back up to the richer parts of Esaka.

When they entered the lobby, Pit found a few of his allies already present. He beamed at them all, especially when he noted a pair that had been absent for most of the day.

Primrose and Therion had shown up to the establishment fairly soon after the call and lounged in a couple of arm chairs as they caught up with the others. There was only so much information they could gather in a day, and touring the entirety of the city was a tiring affair. Now, though, they had a good mental map of Esaka and its immediate surroundings. This being the eve of the latest tournament series they'd picked up a lot of rumors as well, and had been able to corroborate the information with what the Seekers' detectives had learned.

It was fortunate that they'd stopped in to meet with everyone before finalizing any plans to leave the city and strike out to the Forbidden Kingdom at large, as the one thing they'd been missing was information on the region's Guardian - which had been given to the bulk of the Seekers at lunch. Once informed of the four-in-one nature of Esaka's Kings, the Orsterrans shared a glance.

"Those guys again..." Therion mused of the Organization members. He didn't have any particularly strong feelings about them, besides the fact that they did seem to share the same goal, thus he didn't think the Seekers were being lied to. The thief sighed. "This makes things more complicated. I think I prefer one nasty thing locked away to four celebrities that all need to be beaten within a day."

Primrose hummed her agreement, gently tapping her fingers on the arm of her chair. "I suppose the two of us will be staying in the city then. Now that we know where and who the Guardian... or Guardians are, the more hands the better."

It also didn't escape her notice that with Bowser Jr. gone for now, and Sandalphon and Blazermate both part of the Seekers' other contingent, the Gold Team's healing options were... rather limited to say the least. The dancer had one healing spell to her name, and a way to spread its effects to all of her allies, but besides that she wasn't sure if anyone else had any options whatsoever. She'd heard that the Heavenly Principles healed fighters between match rounds, but what about afterward? Or if they decided to forego the tournament and take the fight straight to the Kings instead, which the dancer was already conceiving some ideas about...

"You know, I've been thinking that if they're all one part of one Guardian, wouldn't that make them all one fourth as strong as other Guardians?" Pit said, crossing his arms over his chest with a nod. It made sense to him. "So each one'll need less people to beat them! We'll probably be okay with the team we've got now!"

Which wasn't to say he wanted Primrose and Therion to go off on their own adventure like Rika and Bowser Jr. had, but if they needed to for any reason maybe they could spare the time. And speaking of time, there was plenty before the final showdown with the Kings at the tournament season's end anyway.

Neither Orsterran looked convinced.

The majority of the group filtered in after that. Upon seeing Terry sporting a new outfit (which made Primrose raise a questioning brow at the shredded clothes) and fresh eyes wiped of all trace of Galeem's influence, Pit flitted right over to the blonde man.

"Terry! So you did get freed! I mean, you said you did, but still it's good to see you back in action for real!" Pit said to him. In truth he'd been caught up in the whirlwind of lunch and exploring, so it had slipped his mind to make sure Terry was destoried. Thank goodness the others had been on top of it. "Sorry, I should have been there to help out... but now that you're not mind-controlled we'll get you up to speed!"

A task that Zenkichi jumped right into, giving the man a summary of the most important parts. Pit nodded along as Zenkichi talked. There were some things left out, but maybe they shouldn't try to cram all the information into Terry's head in one sitting anyway.

The brown chihuahua that had abandoned Pit and had gotten cozy next to Primrose's chair (who was the classiest looking human so far and had eventually given him a few pets!) perked up at the mention of food, his ears standing straight up on his head and his bug eyes fixed on Terry who'd offered the dinner suggestions. However, when Ms. Fortune entered and surprised them all with her haul of zenny, Yappy swiftly turned his attention to the feral instead. Money! He was going to get a good meal out of this yet!

The story about how she'd come by so much cash didn't bother Pit or the Orsterrans. It was only the negative responses to it that got any reaction from Therion, namely that his tail flicked and he rolled his eyes. "Always the types that don't help with an empty war chest that complain about how it gets filled," he muttered the saying, not so quiet that he couldn't be heard by the rest of the group. If his fellow thief really was going to do some charity and spot the Seekers then the least they could do was keep their mouths shut about her methods.

He could have brought up the details about Consul B as the conversation drifted in that direction, but he refrained for the time being. Maybe when he was feeling a little more charitable, or at least when they weren't all sitting in a public lobby.

When two more Seekers arrived, Pit thought it would be the final missing two (besides Junior and Rika who were sort of accounted for elsewhere); but the woman that Amaterasu had tagged along with was not Juri. He frowned -he'd have to find her then, or else hope she dropped in randomly again- but only for a moment.

"Amaterasu! Whose this?" he asked, as no one had yet mentioned Yayama over the linkpearls. To be fair it wasn't like he mentioned that he'd freed someone he met today either. And she was free, that much was clear in the diminutive woman's visible eye.

And with that eye she could see the eclectic crew she was about to throw her lot in with. Among them the dancer, Primrose, who appeared as a beautiful hyur with peach skin, emerald green eyes, a beauty mark by her lips and a small ruby in the center of her forehead, half-obscured by brown bangs, the rest of her hair flowing from brown to red to dirty blonde and pulled into a huge braided ponytail. She also wore a sleeveless rich red dress studded with small gold beads that matched the jewelry she wore. She sat politely in one chair, and in the seat next to hers with his boots thrown up on the coffee table was a shorter man that appeared to be similar to a miqo'te. The thief, Therion, dressed in a set of purple leather-looking armor with a checkered scarf, the left half of his pale face was covered by a mane of white hair that faded into dull blue with black at the tips, the same way the fur of his ears and tail did. The right side of his hair was tied with beads that gave one a clear view of the single visible eye, gray with a slit pupil.

And then there was the winged boy who'd approached to greet her. Shorter than most of the others present, but still more than a foot taller than Yayama. Dressed in a few pieces of steel armor and robes of white, red and gold with still more golden accents, he did look fairly holy - especially with the double whammy of glowing golden pupils and a glowing golden wreath atop the head of fluffy brown hair, tipped in white and blonde with a pair of short braids framing both sides of his face. A face that sported a friendly grin.

"Another new recruit? Nice to meet you! I'm Pit!" The apparent elected captain of the Gold Team said.

At the same time, after a glance at the newest comer, a brief discussion of what was next for tonight was taking place. Harry and Kim were planning to head back out into the city, but one glance out of the window at the pouring rain and Therion sunk down deeper into his chair.

"I'm done for the day," he stated, his ears lowering closer to his head. Even though he still had his comically large umbrella, he wanted to avoid getting wet if at all possible. He'd be parked right there in the lobby until the weather cleared up, or else he might just book a room and retire if it was free either way (whether Ms. Fortune paid or he just swiped a room... belt).

As for Primrose, she said, "I was considering finding a few taverns and seeing what business I could drum up myself. With battle being the main form of entertainment I may strike out, but then again maybe the people are starved for something else..."

She wasn't above accepting a friend's charity, but her own coin purse was a little light at the moment anyway. Some time to fill it, pay her own way, and maybe learn a little more new information while she did it, would be good.

"I wouldn't mind some company. Otherwise... there's an inn just outside the city we found that could be another option. A ryokan, the owner called it. Friendly fellow." Her tone implied that she was really underselling it. "If nothing else it may be worth a visit sometime for the hot springs there after long days of fighting."

It should have been impossible, but Pit's bright eyes seemed to light up even more at that and he turned his head. "I love hot springs!"

Primrose smiled lightly at him. She, too, had come to really enjoy them. "If the captain approves, then I suppose we really ought to look into it~"

Although before anything else, dinner really wouldn't be a bad idea.

---

---

Although the rest of White Team was in unison to go around the track, Ramattra was not exactly thrilled about the idea of abandoning the straightest path available, but made no fuss when the consensus was to go around the dart-brandishing monkeys. The majority rules in this scenario, as well as Ramattra’s lack of immediate information for the upcoming area; he trusted Sandalphon’s best judgment for the scenario. Plus, he was certain there was plenty more to do around the stagecoach while the group made their decision.

The monkeys seemed… keen to stop the bloons from reaching the end of the track, but their stationary manner seemingly restricted their dart-throwing capacity, and ultimately would allow a couple of bloons to leak through their defenses. Not to mention, their forces were lacking in numbers as only a handful of towers stood ready for the onslaught of multicolored bloons floating neatly along the path. Ramattra sighed. ”Such poor tactics would have them defeated in a real battle.”

In the near distance, Tenna, who was travelling alongside Ace and Ganondorf, could finally be seen approaching the winding path. The other two, having successfully escorted the TV-star, would return to their own matters, and (begrudgingly) allow Tenna to travel with White Team to Edinburgh. The Galeem-influenced CRT would watch atop a hill as the handful of monkeys pop-pop-popped the bloons in succession of one after another. This must have been some game that they were playing! A game that involves popping as many threatening-looking balloons as possible! Oh, Tenna just loved playing games, and if his new friends were playing with these monkeys, surely he was invited as well.

Tenna rushed to the foot of the hill joyously to join the monkeys in bloon popping action. With a huge grin on his face, he would attempt to converse with one of the towered primates. ”Say, mind if I borrow some of those GrOoVy darts you have there?” Despite his new friends ignoring the monkey-littered path ahead, the small creature Tenna conversed with seemed to understand that he wanted to help and would need his own darts to do so. The small sworn-enemy-of-the-bloons would hand Tenna a large amount of darts. He got the feeling he should return these once he’s done helping.

Ramattra, who had been waiting for plans to be made, began to grow bored with the idleness the Stagecoach had taken, and opted to wait nearby as he watched the equipped monkeys battle with the conga line of bloons varying in defenses. He noticed the newcomer, however, who had split himself into twelve miniature copies of himself and stationed himself at various strategic points on the snaking path. The monkeys and Tenna worked diligently to pop as many bloons as they could before they escaped the swirly path ahead. Ramattra found it partially amusing that each miniature Tenna had their own small pile of darts to chuck.

Layer by layer, they cleared the swarm of bloons leaking in. It wasn't until specialized bloons began filling in the fields that they began to have trouble, their defenses not properly equipped to pop through the metallic exterior of the Lead Bloons. The Omnic, bored of waiting, opted to help clear the rubber menaces while the rest of the group decided what route to take. At the very least, helping clear some of the hazards ahead could provide an extra pathway. One of the cylinders protruding off the Omnics' arm began pumping his artificial veins with Alchemist Cocktail, Ramattra converted to Omnic Form and began crushing the metal-coated bloons, just to keep himself busy.

If Tenna and Ramattra managed to clear enough bloons in the time that White Team regrouped, they would have a grace period between waves.

Before anyone else could answer her questions and get a pleasant conversation going, Nadia found her train of thought derailed by an exclamation of astonishment from Terry. After taking her by surprise with his sudden loudness, he demanded to know if she knew who she’d stolen from. Which, of course, she did, since she just mentioned the guy’s name. “Uhh…” That question turned out to be rhetorical, though, as Terry began to explain. She remained pretty ambivalent about the Kazuya hype up until the point when Terry referred to her as ‘cat’ for the second time, at which point the dude started to rub her the wrong way. Her body language immediately changed from her typical friendly, relaxed state to a more defensive, annoyed one as she lowered her ears and crossed her arms. His explicit disapproval of her less-than-legal activities only fanned the flames of her distaste.

“Fur-st off, call me ‘cat’ again and you’re gonna cat-ch these hands, buddy. The name’s Fortune, ‘kay? It’s like if I started callin’ you ‘chimp’ or somethin’. Not so nice, is it?” Though she was still smiling, her furrowed brow made her look much more sardonic than gregarious. “Second, I didn’t say anythin’ about stealin’, but -if- I did, stealin’ from a bad guy’s purr-etty much a good deed anyway. And third, even if this dude did come after me, you’re lookin’ at someone who’s taken down three Guardians. And they’re, like, the strongest there is. I think we can handle one devil guy.”

Band watched, silent, as the feral made her retort. While she did have something of a point about the way Terry, a total newbie, treated her, her instinctive defensiveness told him that she might be a lot more guilty and worried than she let on. Plus, she hadn’t exactly defeated those guardians by herself. Her lopsided accreditation of those feats served as an interesting contrast to her saying ‘we can handle it’ if the Seekers did suffer the consequences of her actions. The detective had looked askance at her from the beginning, but now he felt certain that this calico cat burglar was not just selfish, but also reckless. She seemed to be taking advantage of the Seekers’ mission to save the world to do whatever she wanted, reasoning that being an unsung hero made her above the law. Laws weren’t just there to protect victims, though; they also served to protect would-be criminals from themselves.

Whatever the case, Nadia seemed pretty miffed, despite Terry’s apologies. Rather than circle around to the previous subject, she slunk out of the spotlight after recovering her cash and sat against the lobby wall while the others caught up and explained things. She wore a cheerful smile as she pet the dog that had followed Pit in, but Band wasn’t buying it. For starters, now anyone who needed money would have to ask her, and perhaps bargain for it, rather than just take what they needed. He suspected that she regretted sharing what she’d been up to so readily, as if she’d been among compatriots. Maybe she hadn’t dealt with a lot of people from other walks of life before…or maybe, Band figured, he should quit overthinking. With a sigh Band decided to leave her to her own devices, and turned his attention to the others.

Among the various ideas for how to spend the evening, Harry’s plan actually made the most sense to Band. Though reluctant to admit it, he knew that his fighting skills probably weren’t up to snuff. During his time at ASG, he mostly fought undead or criminal elements that the police couldn’t -or simply wouldn’t- handle. He could throw his weight around, and his mechanical chassis housed a powerful arsenal of instruments, but when it came to proper fights against skilled opponents the detective had precious little experience. “I probably oughta do some trainin’ myself,” he confessed. “Or at least some practice. Brass don’t rust, but my fightin’ skills do. I got no delusions about takin’ the title myself, but if I’m gonna be fightin’ anyway I wanna give whoever’s gonna go the distance the best shot possible.”

Since he’d signed up for the World Warrior tournament, the most likely candidate to fight Bison would probably be Sakura. That meant that he and Harry would just need to clear out as much opposition as they could for her, and they wouldn’t be much help if they got knocked out in pools. With that in mind, he looked around at the others. “If anyone feels like beatin’ these old bones into shape, I’d be grateful. I saw some wrestlin’ rings out in the motel courtyard, so we can go a couple rounds out there, once the rain eases up.”

Nadia stood and headed over to a front window, where she pulled the blinds down to check outside. “Looks like it is petering out, actually. ‘Pour’ excuse for a rainstorm, eh?” She turned toward Primrose with a smile, glad to see her friend again even if she’d been preoccupied until now. “If you’re offerin’, I’ll gladly ‘spring’ for a chance to hang out with ya. A tavern sounds pretty good; if you’re plannin’ to dance, we’re definitely ‘inn’ for a good time!” There would probably be food there, too, and with her new funds anyone who stuck with Nadia would be eating like kings. As for whatever else rich people did…the feral would have to figure that out as she went along.

On the way through the lobby Nadia made sure to say hi to Yayama. “Well hello again! That l-eye-lac peeper of yours tells me you got shown the ropes, so welcome to the good guys. Let’s hope you’re better at winnin’ fights than stoppin’ ‘em, eh?” When she stepped outside, she couldn’t help but admire the sky. With the sun starting to go down as stormclouds parted, gorgeous golden rays shone through the glutted gray clouds. That, plus the prospect of hanging out with Primrose, had the feral back in a good mood again. It helped that Juri wasn’t around to annoy her, although not having Junior or Rika back alongside Primrose and Therion was less satisfactory. Still, she knew those kids well enough to know that they’d probably be fine out there on there own, whatever wild adventures they wound up in.



Faced with a winding path through a wealth of troublesome but stationary emplacements, Sandalphon approved of Edward’s pragmatic idea of going offroad in order to circumvent the danger. The team’s tactician left the stagecoach in her hands again, and while that made sense on paper, the archangel’s lack of genuine experience ended up being relevant. She did her best to tune out the sound of popping balloons and steer the Reindrix down the path melted by Edward’s hellhounds through the deep snow, but the beasts -perhaps sensing uncertain hands behind the reins- proved less than cooperative. To make matters worse, the uncovered terrain was rocky and uneven, which led to a great deal of terrestrial turbulence. Anyone still aboard the stagecoach could expect to be rattled, and perhaps even battered by bits of luggage shaken loose from their storage hooks by the jarring. At one point, one of the stagecoach’s eight wheels cracked clean in half after catching in a slanted nook. On the whole, though, everyone made it out in one piece.

Despite the tumult, Sandalphon kept her wits about her as best she could as the Seekers approached the village. When Ganondorf asked about Edinburgh, she glanced at him with question marks in her eyes. “We’re not bound for Edinburgh MagikaPolis. Our destination is Moon Mountain,” she reminded him. “To my knowledge, we would have to cross the sea to reach Edinburgh anyway.”

Heismay watched as Ramattra went over to join the efforts of the monkeys and a TV-headed stranger to thwart the balloons’ ceaseless incursion. Though special bloons joined the onslaught, threatening to overwhelm the defenders and reach the village, the monkeys’ unexpected assistants helped turn the tide and prevent a breach. Thanks to Ramattra’s efforts to physically bodyblock the most durable balloons, the original Tenna and the boss monkey managed to puncture the last lead bloon mere feet from the hamlet’s main entrance. After wiping sweat from his brow, the head ape offered the helpers a pair of banandium gems as thanks. It seemed like the town would be safe from bloons for the time being, but Heismay didn’t relax just yet. Looking back on the new branching path melted through the snow, he couldn’t help but wonder if any hypothetical bloon reinforcements might take a detour around the defenses as well–and what these bloons would actually do if they did reach their destination.



As the Seekers proceeded toward the village, Mokou was the first to get a good look at it, thanks to the fiery flier’s bird’s-eye view. Although fresh snowfall and the dark of the Frozen Highlands’ evernight obscured the little hamlet somewhat, Mokou could make out a couple dozen buildings with the help of the warm lamp-light that emanated through the frosted panes of townhouse windows. This village sat astride a squiggly river where miniature ice floes separated clusters of cold-weather bullrushes and shoals of small tundra trout darted beneath the surface, and the stone bridge over said river served as the community’s central point. The buildings featured uniform white plaster walls reinforced by timber beams, with sea green roof tiles sprinkled by snow. The place had no real gates or defenses, just a couple sections of stone wall between various exterior structures and one or two lookout towers. No two buildings were quite alike, though all featured stone chimneys with plumes of smoke that spiraled up into the dark, cloudy sky, their interiors warm and cozy despite the bleak winter outside. The Midnight Walk itself ran beneath an inn and through the village, roughly perpendicular with the river, and a few of the torch-sized matchsticks that defined its borders were still lit even as they flickered in the frigid wind.

That wasn’t all that Mokou or the other Seekers could see, though. In the distance, not quite between them and Moon Mountain but probably somewhere on the Midnight Walk that promised to lead to White Team’s ultimate destination, there stood an enormous spire half-hidden in the fog. It seemed to stretch all the way to the clouds and perhaps up into the heavens themselves. It was majestic, uncanny, and ominous all in one, and Sandalphon had little doubt in her mind that her team would find their way there.

Since it was technically daytime despite the gloom that blanketed the Highlands, most of the village buildings were open rather than closed up tight, and there were people out and about. Since they still had plenty of supplies the Seekers didn’t have any particular need to stop here, but since the Midnight Walk ran through the place anyway it didn’t hurt to say hello to the locals. There only seemed to be a handful of assorted guards around, and they showed no overt hostility. If anything, the ones by the front entrance seemed surprised that the Seekers managed to circumvent the town defenses, but as long as they were balloons, the defenders took no issue with them.

It was from those first few guards that Sandalphon learned the name of the settlement, that being Gründachdorf, a name amusingly reminiscent of Ganondorf. After two stretches of travel cooped up inside the stagecoach, even a profoundly unathletic archangel like her felt the need to stretch her legs. With Edward back in command of the reindrix as he slowly navigated the ponderous coach through the village, she walked along behind it and took in the sights. Though most of these quaint hovels were small, they were neatly kept, with pleasant flowerbeds displaying all kinds of hardy taiga species, fully-laden clotheslines, and rustic farming implements. She also saw Heismay running and jumping from rooftop to rooftop, taking the chance to hone his agility in an effort to break up the monotony of long-distance travel.

The more both Heismay and Sandalphon looked around Gründachdorf, though, the more anachronistic the place became. For starters, this town was home to more than ordinary humans. Many sported clear cybernetic prosthetics or augmentations, some more extreme than others. The village barber, for instance, had both arms and at least half of his head replaced, with an approximation of skin stretched over the black metal of his left arm. There were a few vending machines tucked away around the village, offering drinks like Milky Pop, The Machinetta Americano, Mountain Sparkle Mont Blanc, Potential Blast, and Elixir Carrot.

More notable was an entire underground bar called The Last Gulp, easily identifiable at night thanks to its neon sign. When Heismay ventured toward it, interested in getting a drink, he heard a woman singing down there. He descended the steps to find a large taproom with a bar on the left side and a wooden stage with a piano against the middle wall. The singer turned out to be a husk of a woman, little more than a head and spinal cord atop a three-legged mechanical frame, attended to by a life support drone that looked like something straight out of the deep sea, or another world. Heismay recoiled at the sight, but stood there, spellbound and unable to look away as she sang.

After a few moments, a man with a red and black metal head walked out from behind the bar. “Hey! This is a restricted area.” He looked down at Heismay. “Never seen you around Gründachdorf before. Identify yourself.”

Heismay quickly composed himself. “Ahem. I am Heismay Noctule, former knight of the Euchronian Shadowguard. Now I am but a wanderer, on my way to Moon Mountain.” His words seemed to defuse the situation somewhat, so the eugief carefully continued. “Forgive me, I did not mean to intrude. I took this place to be a tavern of some kind. I must’ve been mistaken…”

The man grunted, then looked over at the strange woman. “Enya. You okay?”

She did not respond, nor even acknowledge his presence, but continued to stare off into space as she mouthed the words of her song.

With a sigh, the bartender leaned on the counter, his head oriented toward the floor. “...There was a time that this bar used to be full of people. Now it’s just so empty. Empty and dark. And Enya…same story.” He glanced at the cyborg. “I wonder how long she’ll live. With her body in the state it’s in.”

His story, and his feelings for the poor woman, moved Heismay’s heart. Before he reached the stairs to leave, he turned back. “I know it’s not my place to offer, but…if there’s anything I might be able to do, I would like to.”

The bartender shook his head. “Not unless you’re some technological genius. She’s suffered major AI damage…even if I got her new parts, I wouldn’t…wouldn’t know how to make her better.”

“Oh, is she a machine?” Heismay asked, tentative.

His new acquaintance stared at him quizzically. “No, she’s human,” he said as if it should be obvious. “Like me.”

“Oh.” Heismay bowed his head apologetically. “I must apologize. Where I’m from, there are no such technologies. I am very inexperienced…”

“Then you should keep your mouth shut,” the man interjected. When Heismay went quiet, he took a deep breath and sighed. “Sorry, I…I’m a little on edge. If you do know anyone that could help, I would be extremely grateful. We both would be.”

Heismay nodded slowly. “I’ll ask around.” As he climbed back up the stairs, woefully sober, he looked back over his shoulder. “What is your name, by the way?”

It took a moment for the bartender to respond. “...Su.”

“Farewell then, Su. I pray that I’ll return with good news erelong.” With that, Heismay departed.

Meanwhile, Sandalphon drew to a stop by a church about three-quarters of the way through Gründachdorf. She briefly examined the humble but admirable structure, particularly its elaborate windows, before spotted two women by a small bakery stall in the vicinity. At that point she froze, her pupils empty rings as she stared at a tall, elegant woman with long ears and mint-green hair, clad in a flowing dress, with ephemeral fairy wings at her back. Although it had been a long time since Sandalphon had set foot in an Ilian church, she remembered well the goddess statue that adorned every altar, and this woman was her spitting image. Her mind raced for a few moments as her trains of thought blazed a half-dozen trails at once, before finally retracing back to a single conclusion: that it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Gingerly, the archangel approached. The closer she got, the slower and more hesitant her steps became, but once she reached an appropriate speaking distance Sandalphon found her courage. She swallowed, then called out, “...Ilia?”

“Hm?” It wasn’t the green-haired woman who turned, but her companion, a young woman with flowing white hair and a more sporty outfit somewhere between modern and fantastical, with both black armor and a huge, blocky rifle. She threw a friendly smile Sandalphon’s way. “What’s up?”

Sandalphon stared, motionless. “You’re…Ilia?”

“Mhm!” She put her hands on her hips. “That’s me! And this is Meene, my best friend. You know me?”

After a moment, Sandalphon shook her head. Though she kept an even expression, her pupils were stress marks. “No, I’m afraid not. I think…I must be thinking of someone else.”

Though she raised an eyebrow, Ilia decided to be a good sport about the strange encounter. “Oh, okay! Well, good luck finding your Ilia then!”

“Thank you…” Sandalphon bowed her head, then turned and left in a hurry in order to catch up with the stagecoach and the others.

She arrived at the village’s rear exit just after Heismay, who took the opportunity to report the quest he received. While the Seekers probably couldn’t come back here, perhaps the Avenger could dispatch an engineer or two here later to check on Enya and see what it would take to restore her. Once the rest of the Seekers made it through Gründachdorf, the stagecoach could continue on its way. As they spoke, Sandalphon saw a couple people emerge from the village and stand a short distance away, looking at both the stagecoach and the distant tower. One was a stubbly man in baggy black techwear, and the other a bespectacled woman with a silver ponytail and a futuristic skintight suit beneath a gray-and-brown bomber jacket, which did not look sufficient to protect against the Highlands’ cold. After a moment the woman approached, and Sandalphon turned to face her.

“Hello,” she began in a sophisticated British accent. “Are you lot headed for Spire 4? We happen to be headed that way, but the going is said to be treacherous and we would not mind some company.”

The archangel nodded. “We are, though our true destination is Moon Mountain. I am Sandalphon. May I inquire as to what your business might be at Spire 4?”

“The space elevator,” the woman responded. “An Alpha Naytiba has taken refuge there, and we mean to wipe it out. I’m Eve, by the way, and this is Adam.” The man behind her gave a casual wave.

Their names meant nothing to Sandalphon. “It would be our pleasure to travel alongside you until then.

Yayama rolled her eyes in response to Nadia's jab. It seemed innocuous enough, so she paid it little mind. Especially given that it was, in most cases, literally impossible to break up a fight in this World of Light, unless one was willing and able to beat every participant of said fight senseless at once. She'd noticed that people never seemed to quit until there was a clear winner, but it had always just sort of glanced over her mind until now. It wasn't normal, not at all; even though she knew it would have been impossible, her own inability to see that something was deeply, deeply wrong astounded her. It seemed like such a small thing, but it pointed toward the twisted nature of this bizarre mirror world that had replaced everything and everyone she cared for - not to mention Yayama herself - with pale copies.

Right, that happened.

She'd been distracting herself with the events in front of her, but now that there wasn't a clear problem to solve or objective to reach before her, that task had become significantly more difficult. Her thoughts swirled in a gloomy maelstrom, with a few common threads that kept resurfacing.

Where had they gone wrong? How had they missed this threat? They'd thrown back the Empire until it crumbled, prevented ancient Allagan superweapons from devastating the world, destroyed Ascians and their plots. The Scions and their allies had even defeated the Final Days, something that the godlike entities that had once walked the earth hadn't been able to accomplish. And yet, Galeem had swept it all away, annihilated each and every one of them in one fell swoop. Every trial, every tribulation, every triumph, gone. Each tear shed, each life snuffed out to save another, now meaningless. The peace she'd fought for, bled for, gone to the very edge and fractured her own mind for, vanished like fog under a midsummer sun.

Then there was Petra. The strongest warrior in Eorzea, possibly the entire world, bar none. They'd both had the curious mixture of a kind heart and a willingness to do anything necessary for victory that made for what people called heroes - when they won, anyway. What did this make them, then? It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. You know what's justified. Petra had been powerful, but with her strength came its own sort of weakness, one the foreign heiress had probably been predisposed to the entire time. It was a thing Yayama knew better than anyone, even more than Petra herself. Standing so far above everyone else meant there was nobody around for you to lean on - and a long, long fall when you slipped.

And now she was gone. There might be some poor copy of her out there somewhere, bereft of the one person that understood her the best, left to bear the weight of the world alone. Someone ought to suffer for wronging us so. It was twin blades piercing her heart; Petra was both dead and alive to be abandoned in her darkest hour. Not that she would even know. Yayama put her head down on the table for a moment, preferring to hide her face while she tried to rein in her rampant emotions. You don't have to do that. If you're a fake in a fake world, why not let loose a little?

"Shut up," she snapped, louder than she meant to (especially considering she hadn't meant that to come out of her mouth in the first place.) Yayama - and only she - could see Fray standing a short distance away, arms crossed. It had been a while since they'd spoken directly like this. Right now, the apparition was in the form she'd initially "met" her in: a tall Hyur, face hidden by the dark armor she wore. He? The actual Fray had been a man, but this one was not. "I need some air," Yayama muttered, before heading back outside. There, she made her way into an alleyway nearby, attempting to find some brief solitude. When the lalafell turned around, Fray was there again.

"I thought we were done with this, after the last incident. We finally mended the soul crystal." She crossed her own arms, mirroring the shade's pose. "You're supposed to be gone."

I told you a long time ago that I would always be there if you needed me. And you need me right now. Or, at least, that's what we remember. "We" never did any of that.

"Don't do that. Don't keep reminding me, I still don't know what in the hells I'm supposed to make of all this."

You know as well as I do, that's exactly the reason I keep doing it.

"Well, cut it out." To anyone observing, Yayama was apparently arguing with the air. Had they the right sort of senses to perceive it, they would see her aether roiling, straining like a wild beast fighting chains. "I don't need you, at least not the way you are now. Where's the one who helped me subdue Myste?"

Dead. But you knew that already. Yayama suddenly turned and punched the wall behind her, hard enough to crack a small part of the masonry with her gauntleted fist. I'm sure the boy will be around again, soon enough. But right now, it's my time.

"No. Never again, not like this. We work together or not at all."

You're shouting at the air in an alley. Do you think that's a sign that you're working? When Yayama looked up again, she saw her own face. You've done enough, haven't you? Bled for strangers that wouldn't so much as piss on you if you were on fire, slaughtered men by the dozen to protect a city that threw you out without so much as a single question. Unless you've somehow forgotten how we met? Fray leaned closer. You can't take this any more. You deserve to be free of these chains, much like the people you struggled so hard to liberate. Even now, you work to the benefit of total strangers, who've done naught but sneer at you or treat you like an ignorant child since you arrived.

"I said shut up!" Her greatsword was in her hands before she knew it, wreathed in darkness and slashing through Fray from shoulder to hip. The steel and magic slammed against the ground, tearing a rent in it like it was cloth. Yayama panted with exertion and the effort of restraining the virulent rage toward herself and everything around her. She held her pose for a moment, then drove one end of her blade into the earth, slumping against it. "Oh, blood and bloody flaming ashes, I'm not dealing with this at all, am I?" At least she could talk to herself in the way a normal person would. . . though Yayama couldn't help put get the faint impression of a knowing, smug smile at the thought. "Pull yourself together, woman. You've got a reputation to uphold and a world to save."

Her head turned down once again, resting against her gauntlets and, in turn, her sword. If her friends were still around, she could lean on them. Taking care of them had always helped keep her calm too It had given her a purpose to focus herself on in trying times, and something tangible she could do. It was strange; she'd always been one of the cooler heads, but now she was going insane on her own. She felt the pain of solitude far more than she ever had.

“Oh, hey, Pit! Sup?”

Similar to when he encountered the Seekers for the first time, Pit was one of the first to welcome Terry to the lobby upon his arrival. Teeth bare, his smile widened, his bandanged hand waving vigorously. The puzzled glance given to him by Primrose didn’t go unnoticed. He knew a few of them must’ve been wondering why he wore what he wore at the moment. He could’ve admitted he was broke, but then again, he didn’t want to sound more miserable than he already was following the Teahouse debacle.

“Yeah, it’s alright, though. I knew you were busy investigating this side of the city with the detectives,” Terry reassured, oblivious to the fact that Pit had been searching for a kameo partner the whole time. Could it be the cuddly puppy he brought along with him? “Aww… What a cute dog, buddy! Where’d you meet him? What’s his name?”

Just before Terry could approach and pet him, the oddly ferocious chihuahua had taken a seat next to Primrose. It seemed that he enjoyed being around the crimson-clad dancer. When the topic of money was brought up, his perky glance was noticed, though Terry didn’t get to reciprocate those adorable, shimmering eyes since he’d been arguing with Nadia about the method she used to attain her bags of zennies.

“Okay, look, first of all, I didn’t know your name,” Terry admitted, holding out both of his bandaged hands in Nadia’s direction as if it would’ve made her less exasperated. “And second of all, you made it sound like you’ve just stolen something from Kazzy. And I don’t doubt that any of y’all could’ve handled something that sounds as big as those Guardians of… whatever. It’s just that…” He paused, lowered his eyes, then sighed, pursing his lips wryly. “I was just… scared, y’know. Scared that I’d lose you guys, too. I just can’t afford to lose more peeps in my life, is all.” He shrugged, then lifted his eyes to search for the feral one’s, his voice calmer. “Again, I’m sorry, okay? Are we cool now, err… ‘Ms. Fortune’?”

Even when he’d apologized, Nadia was already pissed off by his prior comments that she decided to stride out of her initial position. The brawny blonde scratched the temple of his head, then looked away, his expression a mixture of remorse and puzzlement. Did he just ruin the mood? He thought so. Normally, he would’ve been the one who brought warmth and joy to the conversation, but, oh, well... Perhaps, that was what having a horribly rough day at a horribly rough place did to a traditionally jovial man.

Okay, calm down, Terry. It’s okay, it’s okay... ’Least you’ve said sorry, haven’t you?

Now more composed, Terry gave ear to the elaboration provided to him by Zenkichi, nodding at every word spoken out of his mouth. He was particularly surprised by the mention of the effect of Galeem’s curse and the supposed conspiratorial figures running this peculiar new world from behind the curtains. It appeared that the Four Kings—if they were some of the remaining Guardians mentioned—were far more omniscient than they were in their previous lives, making them sound closer to gods than they were megalomaniacs with exceptional gifts. The thread began to unravel, and now he’d come to understand why Tung, Geese, Tony, and anybody he’d encountered after the Teahouse scuffle shared the same crimson features that Zenkichi was describing—no matter if they were good or evil. To think that he used to share those same features sent shivers down his spine, as he caressed both of his bare, muscular biceps.

“Oh, Gee… N– No wonder! So, that’s why everybody but us had the same gleamin’ eye color, ain’t it?” he asked, both horrors and concern evident through his sky-blue eyes. “Gosh, dude… Guess now I know why I’ve been having a bad hunch about this place. Even before Ammy gave me that heart thingy, I knew something was just… off around here, but I could’ve never pointed it out. I thought I hadn’t been feeling like myself the whole time, either, till those memories came flooding back into my head. It was kinda overwhelming at first, true, but at the same time, it feels… freeing. Relieving. Sorta like I was being born again or something.”

Then, there was this thorough explanation by Zenkichi about the reaction the gleaming might show upon being told about the existence of Galeem and the specific details revolving around the World of Light. Terry, in a way, was no stranger to this already, even before he was set free. Even pointing out the flaws of his own dojo and questioning Esaka’s tier system would raise a few eyebrows, let alone declaring the existence of a greater, almighty being that was Galeem. Or it could also elicit a different reaction, like the one shown by Geese when Terry accidentally revealed a small fraction of what he saw the moment he received a friend heart.

“Man… And here I thought I was overthinking,” he remarked. “You guys have no idea, but whenever I questioned a lotta stuff about Esaka and my own dojo, they always shut me down real fast. Y’see, they called me a lotta things because of that, alright? They thought I was a smartass, thought I was nuts, thought I was sticking my nose too deep into things I won’t understand. Even most of the guys I thought would’ve cared, they dismissed everything that I said, too. Oh, and, by the way, this was before I knew anything about Galeem and the World of Light, so the things that I brought up were mostly about the city’s tier system and how KOF’s been losin’ its edge over the years. Nothin’ too world-breakin’, amirite?”

Afterwards, Terry went on to go into full details on how both KOF the dojo and the tournament had been doing in recent years, assuring the other Seekers that they weren’t doing as well as it seemed to be. He talked about how the participation number had been slightly declining every year and how the tournament’s viewer count was especially worse. In fact, it was the lowest of the big four, making KOF almost like a laughing stock within the High Tier community. Aside from that, he also claimed to have tried to prevent the dojo from being demoted on a few occasions, mostly through collaborative events with other, bigger dojos where he was willingly assigned to represent KOF.

“But that wasn’t much, honestly. I was just doing what was best for the business, and that was to save the sinking ship. Yeah, right, the sinking ship that I thought was my new home…” he added, trying to downplay his contribution. “Y’see, all I did was point out that maybe it wasn’t about the collaborations or appealing to the niche side of our community, nope. I said maybe—just maybe—KOF would be better if some shady, out-of-touch guy wasn’t the one in charge of the tourney, but as y’all can tell, nobody listened. And the next thing I know…” His face dropped, coming to a harsh realization of the fruit of his boldness. “...Almost all the peeps I care for are no longer here.”

He hadn’t lost hope, still. Terry knew he was going to find them one way or another. Although, after putting two and two together, it seemed more obvious now that Rugal had to be the one behind the presumed kidnapping of his loved ones. If Geese’s prior eye gesture was any indication, there must’ve been something hiding within the top floor of his tower that Terry was yet to discover.

“Yeah, right, y’know what, guys? I think Rugal’s involved in all the shitty stuff that’s been going on since I was brought here. You said that he’s one of those Guardians you’re chasing after, right?” he asked, his voice a hint of determination. He then crossed his arms, leaning against the fluffy backrest of the couch. “I’m not surprised if he turns out to be a pawn for Galeem. That sunnuva gun was the one responsible for the destruction of my world, and some guy told me he’s gotta be the reason why my guys went missing in this one. I swear, if he ever dared touch ’em, I’m so gonna beat the living hell outta that scum!”

He could feel his hand hardening, as he swung it over his face and bowled it. His face began to tense, as he reminded himself of the things he’d lost—his family, his friends, and the world that he once knew, all thanks to Galeem and one Rugal Bernstein. It was vivid in his mind how the latter tormented each and every one of his fellow KOF participants in the most unforgiving fashion, and to think that the same familiar figures had now bent their knees to the man responsible for their deaths? Truly, it felt like a nightmare come true.

His tension soon melted when Cap arrived and gave him a clap to the back—a gesture that was quite reassuring. He thought maybe his teammate was right about not having to worry too much about identifying the Consuls. Getting to the finals of the KOF tournament was his main objective as of now, and even if he had to face one of the Consuls, he knew he could rely on the others more experienced with the matter like… just about anybody in the Seekers but newbies like him. Now that his question had been answered, he shifted his attention towards his team’s captain, giving ear to his story.

“Well, that’s great! Toldcha, right? You look like a million bucks,” Terry reciprocated, then grinned, his knuckles jokingly nudging Cap’s shoulder. “I’m not surprised that you were gonna make an impression on the guys back at Breakers. After seeing you in action, I’m proud to say that both you and Ammy are ready for our tournament. Not gonna lie, but it looks as though you guys have been fighting longer than I have. You sure you’re not Robert in disguise, Cap? I mean, the way you fight and all, it… kinda reminds me of him. No cap, but if only the Kyokugen Dojo ain’t Kyokugen BBQ these days, I would’ve convinced Ryo to take you in.”

Shortly after, Amaterasu entered the lobby alongside the new member they’d encountered earlier at the Teahouse—her eyes as clear as he was now. He knew he hadn’t introduced himself in front of the latter just yet—more or less just dropping a brief ‘thank you’ for her prior help before he went to the Mid Tier.

“Yo, Ammy, sup? I knew you’d be back,” Terry welcomed with a big, enthusiastic wave, watching as the newly arriving Seekers closed in and sat with them. “Hi, sorry, I wasn’t in the best condition when the fight ended. I thought I should’ve introduced myself earlier.” He held out a hand in the lalafell’s direction, a beaming smile worn. “The name’s Terry. Terry Bogard. You can call me ‘Wolf,’ you can call me ‘Legendary,’ just don’t call me ‘Ken with a Hat’ like they all do, alright?” He giggled, then rolled his eyes at his own joke, finding the nickname more exasperating than it was amusing. “And you are, buddy?” Oddly, his introduction and offer for a handshake were both left unreciprocated, as Yayama continued to slump her face against the table. He raised a puzzled eyebrow. “Huh? Ah, okay…”

He could tell that the lalafell must’ve been overwhelmed by the influx of abandoned memories as much as he used to. Well, even now, he still tried to comprehend every grotesque detail surrounding the last moments of his prior life. While Terry was about to accept Band’s offer for a sparring match, suddenly, Yayama snapped and headed out of the building, telling the crew that she needed some air. Something about her abrupt burst reminded him of the way he left the other Seekers beforehand, and this was right after she received a friend heart, too.

“Wait, pal, it’s still rainin’ outside!” Terry shouted, then extended a hand as if reaching out to Yayama, but he was too late. Her figure was now a miniscule, distant view rushing out of the entrance. She had him worried all a sudden. “Sorry, guys, but… I gotta go. Won’t take a while.”

And so, he stood out of his comfy seat, strides subsequently drumming in the direction of the front door. As he was outside, Terry began searching for the new member, his sky-blue eyes darting left and right. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the raindrops cascading over his head—not when he needed to assure Yayama’s situation. Eventually, his gaze fell upon the alleyway situated just a couple of feet from the Banishing Flats. The alleyway was barely lit, though he could see a small figure hurling flails against the wall in a fit of rage, subsequently swinging her mighty sword against the evening’s cold breath. Seeing that she’d just been freed, he could feel the sentiment all too well. After all, his reaction to the suppressed memories was more or less the same as hers was.

“Wait, buddy, stop!”

He wished he knew what her name was, so he could call her properly. The brawny blonde strode swiftly, entering the alleyway around the same time the lalafell rested her head atop her sword. He placed both of his hands over her shoulders almost reflexively, as if the comforting gesture would’ve made her stop flailing around.

“Hey, buddy, are you okay? J– Just take it easy, alright? Don’t hurt yourself like that,” Terry told Yayama, his voice quiet and soothing. “Just relax. Take a deep breath…”

He did just the same—inhaling and exhaling the cold, fresh air—since he figured he, too, needed to compose himself after the prior stages of grief. The former KOF champion gave the sword-wielding warrior a worried glance, finding pain and dread through her own. Even when she clearly was trying to put on a tough facade, her prior actions and the words that came out of her mouth didn’t lie. She needed help, he felt, and he was ready to lend her a hand.

“Hey, look, I dunno how and when you were set free, but whatever it was that you saw in that moment, I feel you,” he reassured, close to breaking into tears at the thought. “You’re not alone. I saw some horrifying stuff, too, after they gave me the heart. Care to talk about ’em, hm? I mean, if you don’t mind, of course. Maybe I can help you ease up a little.”

FIN.

She wasn't alone in the alley. Yayama blinked once, twice, as her head slowly turned up toward the voice, taking her moment to confirm that the newcomer wasn't another apparition conjured by rage, guilt, and sorrow. It was the blonde from earlier, the one that had the meltdown at the teahouse. Funny, how things like this worked out. Now he was trying to comfort her, seemingly already past his troubles earlier. I suppose it's to be expected that some of that famed resilience has been lost.

"I saved the world, you know," she said. "A couple times. Maybe Petra could have done it without me, but I was there, and I put in a lot of work." Her gaze drifted past Terry, looking into the nothingness of memory. "Almost died a few times. Almost lost everyone. Did lose a few people along the way, may they rest in peace. There was something a friend of mine said once, a sort of mantra that let us push through in trying times. 'For those we have lost, for those we may yet save.'" The dark knight knew she was rambling, and to a near-total stranger to boot, but that didn't stop the words from spilling forth as they came into her mind. "Rings a little hollow now, you know? Knowing that they're all gone. Makes it feel like nothing I've ever done mattered. Which is true, if you think about it, because that wasn't even me. Yayama Yama, the Warrior of Darkness, the Unrelenting, the Rift Walker, the Unforgiven, the Stalwart Sword, is long dead. All I've done is waste a bit of time chasing after petty criminals and putting down the occasional wild beast, really."

Yayama's eye refocused on Terry. She pushed herself back to her feet, though the sword still supported her. "I basically didn't remember anything of my life - such that it even counts as that - before the heart. I guess I would have known something was wrong if I did. It hit me all at once, all ten years of it. The fighting, the victories, the defeats, the people lost and the people saved, the ocean of blood spilled along the way. I remember when a woman caught a glimpse of Petra's history and almost went mad in the process from what she'd been through, and that was before the worst of the struggle. I've never asked for or wanted pity, mind, but that's how other people felt about us."

She finally took that deep breath he'd suggested earlier, feeling the cool air move through her lungs. She could still feel the equivalent aether circulation, and how it was still sluggish despite her expertise in manipulating it. They'd faced more dire threats afterward, but that had been their darkest hour on a personal level. This situation kept bringing it back to mind, and changing her armor hadn't changed the circumstances around her.

"It's difficult. I'm trying to take it on the chin and keep moving forward as I always have, but I think I was starting to finally hit my limits after the Final Days. I feel. . . worn. I was looking forward to this business in Tural, a chance to travel and see some sights without needing to cast down a tyrant or forestall the apocalypse. I might've had it in me for more after that, or I might not have. The hope was that it wouldn't matter. But now?" She shook her head. "All of it hit me at once, like I said, and then hit me again for good measure with the knowledge that it's all gone now. I. . . can't honestly say that I know I have it in me to do it again." Her eyes turned downward and closed again as she took another breath.

After she exhaled, she pulled her blade out of the ground and rested it on her shoulder once more. The brave face was back, for the most part. "And it occurs to me, I never actually introduced myself. As I'm sure you heard earlier, my name is Yayama Yama. People called me the Warrior of Darkness and all those other things. I liked it, it was a nice pairing with Petra being the Warrior of Light. I apologize for what you saw a bit ago. There's not really any talking around that at this point, is there?" She shook her head, briefly closing her eyes as she did. "All those things I've said. . . there have been a couple times where I cracked. I never quite broke, but I cracked. This reminds me of one of those times, too."

You aren't exactly in one piece right now, you know.

@Lugubrious @Yankee @DracoLunaris

Harry Dubois

𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝒦𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾

Word Count: 903
Level: Lv: 6 EXP: (3/60)
Lv: 4 EXP: (5/40)
Location: Esaka’s Middle Tier - Banishing Flats/ Saikyo Dojo

Harry looked quite uncomfortable as Terry interrogated Nadia about whom she had robbed. And from the sound of his tone, it sounded like she had stolen from a dangerous person. He hoped that this person wouldn’t find out who stole from him. A sudden sense of dread seemed to fill his mind. If this person ever finds out, then the Seekers would be in big trouble. But Nadia had Band and the other Seekers to help protect her from harm. Even though he didn’t know her that well, he would also try to protect her. They needed to stick together if they were going to survive.

” Hold on, let’s not start fighting each other, hopefully, whoever he doesn’t find out. But maybe next time you’ll let me into your next heist..” Harry said to both Terry and Nadia. The last part he had whispered to Nadia so only she could hear him. But this was better said than done since Nadia seemed to be quite compulsive and stubborn in her ways. However, he didn’t mind something bad happening to douchebags like Kazuya.

” Oh, hi, Ammy and Pit, nice to see ya again. Whatcha guys been up to?” Harry made his way over towards them, not wanting to be anywhere near Nadia or Terry. He had a pleasant conversation with both of them and responded to her bark and ink drawings.

The wolf tilted her head, as if wondering how he expected her to answer, before looking over at the very short newcomer. She raised a paw as if to begin moving towards her, only for said newcomer to finish the exiting of building she'd already been part way through, leaving the wolf to put the paw back down and look back to him again.

"Amaterasu was sparring earlier, since she's the one that freed Terry. After I split up from you guys I went to look around the High Tier - it's pretty nice! And I found a partner for the tournament!"

As he said the last part Pit gave Harry a peace sign. "She's really strong! Getting to the King of Mortal Kombat is gonna be a piece of cake!"

After a beat Pit's expression turned curious, and he blinked at the detective and his bespectacled partner. Even though Harry had mentioned going to train, the angel couldn't help but wonder... "Are you guys gonna be alright tomorrow? Street Fighters are super tough."

Harry's face showed concern upon hearing that Terry had been held captive. Or so he assumed that was the case. But his worry subsided when he heard that Pit and Ammy busted him out. ” Really? I mean, she is a goddess, but I’m worried she’ll get herself killed.” The concern came back onto his face. From the stories he had heard, he wasn’t sure any of the seekers would make it out alive. ”I think so. I’ve been training with Dan-Sensei, and I’m about to see him again for some more training.” He felt now he would need to train as much as he could to prove his worth to the team.

After his discussion with them, he turned to Band and Kim. “How about after my training, we could have a little friendly fight. You know, just to hone our fighting skills.” A suggestion Kim was unsure about since they didn’t want to beat each other too much before the tournament. But Harry was glad Band was up for a little friendly sparring.

” Maybe. I will probably be looking into more information on the tournaments and the participants. I think any kind of information will let us know what we are dealing with.” Kim spoke flatly while cleaning his glasses with his handkerchief. He would rather be doing anything other than fighting, but that didn’t seem to be an option he could not opt out of.

Harry soon left to train with Dan, while Kim went to gather more information about the participants in the Tekken and Street Fighter tournaments. Harry had made his way towards Dan’s Dojo and was greeted by his other students. ” Hi, do you know where Sensai Dan is?” Harry asked, and a blonde foppish man answered.

“Oh, he went out to find speak to his former student. But i think he’ll be back soon.” The man smiled, wearing an outfit that didn’t seem to match a karate dojo. And a few moments later, Dan came back into the dojo.

“Hello, Harry-San, what can I do for ya?” He said, and Harry responded by wanting to be give some more training in the Saikyo Style. A request that seemed to tickle Dan immensely. The students who were inside the dojo, along with Harry, were given a long training session. Being taught a few basic moves of the Saikyo Style. Teaching them various techniques, Harry, although he failed a couple of times, was determined to perfect the moves.

Whenever Harry attempted the Dankukyaku, he would inevitably fall over onto his butt. He cursed lloudly, slamming his closed fist onto the ground. Dan came over to try to reassure him.

“Don’t sweat it Harry-san, it took me many years to prefect my father’s fighting style. Ya just need to keep practicing.” Dan patted Harry on the back before helping him back up. During the next couple of hours, Harry tried perfecting Dan’s various moves with varying degrees of success.

The kids had escaped the cops. It had not been a fun time. Sewers might make for excellent highways for a pair of people who could sail on water, but they were stinky, confusing and full of annoying monsters.

Truly, the worst kind of level.

What was fun, however, was what the place they’d found to lay low while waiting for the heat to die down: a robot fighting arena tucked away in a random disused warehouse that had been half consumed by a hollow.

In it, the kids got to see action figure like custom robos duked it out against (super) cardboard armored LBXs, kid sized medabots (like Blazermate), autobattling bots and even boxy robots that managed to hold their own through sheet tankiness. Sometimes. Those were definitely the underdogs.

Not quite as much underdogs as the Bangboo that stepped up to the plate though, where it ended up facing down and ready to fight a Yellowturtle Medabot. These seemed to cause some confusion among the organizers/audience however. Especially because the Bangboo didn’t have an owner present.

That resulted in a noisy bout of arguing and heckling till the medabot owner, Kubota, declared “Bah! Who cares who’s it is! Yellowturtle! Lets give the people what they want! Robot destruction!” which got cheers from the crowd, and the amateur organizers of the event onboard.

As the countdown started, there came the distinctive sound of capacitors charging from the tanky medabot, while the Bangboo kept waving at the crowd as if they weren't all cheering for its imminent scrapping.

Then came the signal to start, a mechanical voice declaring “Activate!” and the battle began.

Out the gate, the penguin Bangboo took the crowd by surprise as it surged forwards with surprising speed, webbed feet producing a chilling effect that let it skate across the arena. It did so in a slight arc, letting it dodge out of the way of the slower medabot’s pair of high powered laser bursts (which slammed harmlessly into the bulletproof glass of the arena wall).

It then pirouetted to avoid a third lasershot (one of the bot’s cannons having been rapidly recharged by its battery headpart) and got in nice and close where it began to twirl, producing a larger ice effect around it as it performed a spin attack.

It promptly bounced off the tank of bot, landed face first on the floor along which it slid till it smacked into the arena wall, where it was promptly pinned to said wall by a staggered trio of laser blasts leaving it crying out “Ehn-ne! Ehn-ne! Ehn-ne!” after the final shot. From Jr’s phone, Seek helpfully translated this as “Ow! Stop! I give up!”

Someone on the team running things apparently had a translator on hand as well, as the signal was given for the fight to “Cease!” before the Yellowturtle could recharge its cannons, much to the disappointment of its owner.

The crowd’s opinion was a bit more mixed, as it had sounded really pathetic while being shot up, and so there was some sympathy for the thing. Jr wasn’t among those, but he still headed down when an adhoc crew formed to try and fix up the battered thing.

When Rika asked ”Why?” this was, he reapplied ”Because those things can get around hallows, and if we need to make a run for it…” before nodding for the black void at the other end of the warehouse.

Rika shrugged and accepted the answer. Her next one was for the Bangboo itself, namely: ”So why are you doing this anyway?” which she asked while Jr and a LBX owner Ban Yamano poked around its insides.

It replied “Ehn-ne Ehn-ne Ehn-ne Ehn-ne Ehn-ne” which once again got translated by Seek. Apparently its owner had told it vaguely to make money, and it had then seen on a tv how the fighters over in Esaka made loads of money, but had gotten lost trying to get there and ended up right back in the city. So then it found out about this via the interknot (just like they had), and thought that, well, it was a robot, so clearly this was the best place to fight for it, right?

Unfortunately for it, as it turned out, it needed its owner to actually be here to earn any money, given otherwise there was no-one to pay out if it lost.

”Maaaaybe we could soup you up a bit, and give you a shot at winning?” Jr suggested, which Rika thought was unlikely. Still. She pitched in where she could, and then got badgered into grieving a lot more help at her brother's insistence.

A little while later, and the Bangboo was back on the field, and ready for a rematch, much to the surprise of anyone who’d not been keeping an eye on the little corner of the warehouse they’d been tinkering in.

“Ha, ready for another beating you dumb bot?" Kubota said to it after getting over said surprise, before scoffing at Jr, Rika, and Ban and saying “What, you feel sorry for it? That’s dumb, because now your Zenny’s all mine!”

The other kid, Ban, seemed to have been motivated by sympathy more than anything for sure, while Jr just insisted that ”No, your Zenny’s gonna be all ours!”

Rika meanwhile just shrugged as she stepped up to the spot for the bot drivers/commanders, and then said ”It seemed like it’d be fun”

“Yeah, it will be. For me!” Kubota retorted confidently, but Rika wasn’t phased, simply saying ”Maybe? Let’s find out” before any other talk was cut off by the timer starting up.

On “Activate!” The Bangboo burst to the side at Rika’s direction, but the move was predictable after the first time, and so a single laser cannon was aimed and fired its way, only for it to slam into a little cardboard shield that Ban had made for the bot that tanked the shot. It then whipped around its other flipper, into which a simple handgun unfurled thanks to the buff granted by Rika’s Col. Droneman.

“That all-” Kubota began to say, before the weapon unleashed hell in the form of nine bullets every single second, forever, and a steady stream of mini missiles to boot.

Still, the enemy bot was built like a tank and so it endured the hail of shots as it aimed its laser cannons again.

”Take those out!” Rika commanded, prompting the hail of fire to slip to the side of the center of mass and hammer one of the lasers, causing it to misfire and throw off the aim of the other.

Then the BangBoo got in close and performed its icy spin again, only to once again rebound. This caused a confident bark of a laugh from Kubota that he choked down half way as the BangBoo kept steady in its spin away this time, having expected that result, and having also left a splatter of electric goop on the Yellowturtle, which sparked and hissed as the shock screwed with its circuits.

“Shoot it down, shoot it down!” Kubota yelled at his bot, losing his cool, while Rika commanded with cheer ”Keep sailing! Wear down that battleship!” as she got the BangBoo to fight like a shipgirl, all mobility and upgunned firepower.

The result was, at that point, while not inevitable, but certainly predictable, as Rika and the BangBoo wore down the Yellowturtle till it was unfit to go on. Still, each near miss from a laser got a gasp from the crowd, and with the stylish grace of the ice skating bot, it was hardly a poor viewing experience, winning both it and Rika cheers at the end.

The BangBoo waved merrily at the crowd, while Rika flushed and tried and failed to hide behind the two boys and insisted that their rebuilding was what had got them the win.

She came a bit more out of her shell over several more fights (including some two vs twos alongside Ban’s diminutive Achilles LBX) and started to maybe see the appeal of all this if, again, like the cassette beast fights, there was some dissociation between herself being the center of attention, be it a disguise or minion.

By the end of it, they’d raked in a bit of cash, though most of it only really covered the repairs they’d needed to do to the BangBoo. That, and get the little bot some of the cash its owner wanted it to get.

What they really got out of it was the contact details for a BangBoo to get them through (or out of) a hollow, and a whole bunch of contacts in the local bot fighting scene. Plus a bunch of killed time where they didn’t worry about the lack of contact from a certain pair of recently freed citizens who might have all the answers they needed, and a child whose orphaning Galeem had prewritten the moment her parents were written into its world with an expiry date tamped on their souls.

Ft. Sakura and Amateratsu
Words: 756 (+2) (+2 rapport)

Amatersu couldn’t say she was particularly happy with the whole theft thing. Literally and figuratively. If she could talk, she’d have had a lot to say about how they should be helping people, not harming them, even if Galeem’s reality was ever so ephemeral. This world was bad enough without those who knew its true nature also making it worse.

She could not, however, do this. Instead she could merely lead by example.

Unfortunately, currently, that example had resulted in her being flat broke due to having donated all her recovered treasures to charity. So she was in need of funds, and far too proud to go to Miss Fortune for them, as much as her belly would soon complain about that if she did nothing about it.

Fortunately, she had a solution to that, which she had spotted on the way here, namely a large board called Bonus Wag which touted itself as a way for fighters to earn some extra coin. On it had been many notes pinned to it with job advertisements of various kinds.

Most were utterly unsuitable, but it only took a few moments to nip out the board and spot one she liked the look of. By the time Missfortune was thinking of heading out, she had returned with it held in her jaw, and promptly showed it off to the first person she ran into, which turned out to be Sakura.

”Amaterasu-sama. What’s this?” She took it and read it.

The (rather weather worn) note read:

Help wanted!

Awful armored pests from the bamboo forest are slowly devouring out crops, and we can’t even harvest what they haven’t eaten because they will attack us if we get close. Normally we’d ask the Pandas to help out, but there’s some sort of terrible robot war business going on inside and they are sadly much too busy with that to help us.

Strong fighters wanted to help toss these terrible turtles back into the woods where they belong. Sadly we can’t pay much, what with not having been able to harvest our crops and all, but rest assured, as soon as your work is done you’ll have a veritable feast on your hands, freshly plucked from the fields!

Haste would be much appreciated

Signed

Theodore, Mayor of Flowerbud Village

Sakura nodded to herself, and then kept nodded at Amaterasu. ”Hey, sounds fun!” She said. ”Besides, you uh, already took the note thingy. We kinda have to go, now.” Sakura said.

”Let’s see. Flowerbud village.” She tapped her chin. ”I can’t say I know all the villages around Esaka. There’s gotta be a map or some signage or someone we can ask.”

The divine wolf tilted her head to the side, and then glanced around the lobby of the Banishing Flats, sharp eyes spotted what looked to be a tourist guide in a little rack of free to peruse reading material. She padded over, picked it up with her teeth, and popped it onto a table before awkwardly pawing through it till she got past all the bits about the city and found a bigger map of the area.

It was, unfortunately, not labeled, but she did find an unlabeled village up north that was one closest to the border of the forest found to Esaka’s west by her judgment. She glanced at Sakura, then back to the map while patting a paw below it.

That was the best she could do anyway. If anyone was going to ask around about it, it would have to be Sakura herself.

Sakura looked at the Mecha Zangief, an amused, confused expression on her face. ”This is weird. I know this guy. Why did they make so many robots of him? I mean, I guess, he’s pretty cool, don’t get me wrong.” She said.

The Mecha Zangief, with its apparent encyclopedic knowledge of the nearby area, managed to confirm the direction of Flowerbud village (leaving Amaterastu feeling pretty smug even if her attempt had been rather redundant).

Map in hand, she leaned down towards the divine wolf.”Let’s go, Amaterasu-sama!” She raised her hands above her head.

”We’re heading to Flowerbud village to get some fruits and veggies!” She informed the rest of the Seekers, before jogging out the door and heading towards the Golden Fields yet again, with the divine wolf hot on her heels.

Zenkichi decided that he’d take Band up on the sparring offer, and said as much to the man. ”Not sure which way the beating’s gonna go, but I’m down to give a fellow cop a couple of rounds.” Standing up as the others started to get moving, he waited by the door for the cyborg detective. ”Lead the way.”

“I appreciate it.” As more people began to splinter off from the large gathering in Banishing Flats’ lobby, which really hadn’t been built with so many people in mind anyway, the two detectives trooped down the right-hand hallway in the direction of one of the courtyard doors that Band had seen earlier. On the way, he tried to establish some expectations. “Now, I’m guessin’ we both know we ain’t exactly spring chickens anymore. Can’t afford to go breakin’ bones and tearin’ muscles the night before we actually gotta fight for real, ‘specially seein’ as this team’s light on healers. I don’t mean to go too easy, mind ya, but I figure we oughta pull our punches a li’l bit, at least.”

He chuckled dryly, keeping his voice down as he passed by a number of motel rooms. “Either way, this is fixin’ to expose the fact that I ain’t got much in the way of actual fightin’ skill. I can throw my weight around, sure, and I got a couple tricks up my sleeve, but I’m a big, slow target. If my opponents ain’t liable to get bullied, ‘specially speedy or long-reachin’ types, I end up strugglin’. Feels like tryin’ to slap mosquitoes.”

Zenkichi chuckled along with Band as they walked. ”When it comes to a lot of this sword and magic stuff, I'm kind of the same way. Valjean gives me some basic skills with the stuff I can summon, but I'm hardly a master swordsman or marksman. Though I'm no slouch when it comes to hand-to-hand, either. That matters a lot more when it comes to policing in Japan.” He added after a beat.

“Sounds like we both got some stuff to work on. We only got a short time to iron out our weaknesses, but a li’l practice is better than none.” When he reached the hallway door, he gingerly deployed a little mechanical pincer and opened it, then pushed through, his massive frame scraping both sides.

In front of him stood the courtyard with its wrestling rings, a little wetter than before but none the worse for wear after the rain. As the detectives walked in, four spotlights kicked on to illuminate the area, one in each corner of the courtyard. It was still drizzling, but thanks to his hat and enormous trench coat Band barely even registered the odd raindrop. The rings, dented by numerous heavy impacts, were uneven enough that small pools of water could be found on their surfaces, but Band’s sheer weight and low center of gravity would make it much harder for him to slip. Hopefully Zenkichi wouldn’t fall afoul of those puddles, either.

Rather than try and push through the ring ropes, Band jumped, then double-jumped by releasing a downward burst of sound energy to clear the barrier and land with a loud thump inside the nearest arena. He turned toward Zenkichi, then walked backward to give his prospective sparring partner some room. He popped open each pair of keys on his sides in ascending order to vent steam, which seemed to be the cyborg’s equivalent of stretching, then bent his knees and leaned forward in an unorthodox fighting stance. Without any means of inflicting harm or protecting himself on display, he might look defenseless, but if Zenkichi hadn’t already seen Big Band fight he would soon learn what his pneumatic body was capable of. “Ready when you are.”

Zenkichi hadn't made much time to get to know Band or his fighting style, so he was ready for a surprise, but as he climbed into the ring and transformed into his Phantom Thief attire, he at least got his comically-large hat to keep the water out of his eyes. Summoning his original Claymore, Zenkichi matched Band's gaze and sprung forward, closing in on Band with a heavy overhead swing perfectly positioned to fall just shy of the detective to bait out a response.

After mentally adjusting to his opponent’s rather drastic costume change, Band stood firm with narrowed eyes as Zenkichi moved in. Though no master of visual calculus, he did have pretty good instincts, so when the overhead slash descended he stood tall, ready to block. Instead the slice whiffed, but rather than step forward to close distance and counterattack, the cyborg stepped backward. If Zenkichi wasn’t one for fast close-quarters combat, that suited Band just find; the midrange was where he thrived. He deployed a huge drum pedal to slam the ring with a heavy Giant Step, a slow but massively disjointed attack. It would knock Zenkichi down and bring him closer on hit, but even if he avoided it, he’d be in for a surprise as the ensuing unblockable shockwave knocked him down anyway, albeit without doing any damage.

As Band stepped backwards, Zenkichi stepped in to close the distance and follow up with a diagonal slash. The pedal appearing gave him pause, but he was too committed to his own slow slash to cancel now. He was caught at the end of his slash, knocked down, and dragged forward. He recovered fairly quickly compared to his attacks, scooting backwards on hands and knees before pushing himself up to draw his revolvers. He let off a quick burst of gunfire to keep Band back before summoning the larger, heavier Greatsword.

“Whoa!” At the sight of Zenkichi’s sidearms, Band quickly deployed two sheet music racks to block with, reducing the gunfire to manageable chip damage. He stepped back for a second as he caught his breath, and as he did he looked around at all the potentially inhabited motel rooms within earshot. “Where I’m from, bullets kill people, hotshot. You lucky I’m made of sterner stuff.” That same fortitude meant he’d come out okay from the trade earlier, and he was about to put it to the test again. A giant mechanical arm appeared as he charged forward with a hit of armor, able to shrug off any one attack as he delivered a Brass Knuckle punch, carefully dialed back to a sustainable strength. “Gimme a hit!”

Zenkichi balked a little at Band's comment, then let out a breath. He knew Band was a cyborg, and he'd seen almost every Seeker shrug off what would be lethal damage to a normal human, so to say that he was a little surprised was an understatement. ”I've seen a schoolgirl shoot fireballs out of her hands here, gauging appropriate force is…kind of impossible in this world. But I'll keep the guns away for this.” As Band charged forward, Zenkichi stood firm and blocked by holding the Greatsword before himself like a shield, the Brass Knuckle crashing into it with a cacophony of noise. Zenkichi groaned from the hit, taking a decent amount even through the chip, before going right back at Band with his sword, taking several swings at the cyborg, keeping the pressure up.

With a medium Brass Knuckle’s disadvantage on block, Band had to salvage the situation as best he could. His opponent landed a couple sword swings as he tried to find his footing and strike back, but while their damage was not insignificant on their own, none led to a series of follow-up hits. Band put up his defenses at the first opportunity, one eyebrow raised beneath the brim of his hat. Does this guy not know combos? After warding off a couple blows, Band countered the next one with Beat Extend, becoming briefly strike invulnerable as he grabbed Zenkichi in a tambourine clash. An extra shake of his instrument inflicted Sound Stun to keep his opponent dizzy, and while Band could have launched into a full combo from there, he stuck with a simple double horn honk as Zenkichi fell followed by an organ pipe sweep to knock his fellow detective down.

From there Band waited a brief moment, then slid forward as Zenkichi rose. What started as a bell ringer turned out to be a fake-out as he canceled it into what looked like another Brass Knuckles. This time, though, it was a light Take the A Train, a true command grab that would beat Zenkichi’s block at the cost of vulnerability to strike or jump.

Zenkichi found himself well and truly at Band's mercy. The Phantom Thief had no more than a basic slash combo to his name, with some improvised switch-ups he could fall back on, but with the cyborg's brass body, he was wary of going into fisticuffs, and he'd promised to keep his pistols stashed for the rest of their bout. All he could do as he rose was try again. While he wasn't a fighter by nature, he could tell when he was being bluffed. When Band slid forward to fake-out with Bell Ringer, Zenkichi put it all on the line, activating Fury. His energy blasts were fairly short-ranged and wouldn't destroy the hotel around them, and he needed some kind of edge on Band, though from the punishment he'd already taken he had the feeling this would be a case of mitigating just how badly he ended up losing.

With speed unlike his previous attacks, Zenkichi launched into an offensive as Band charged forward, the Phantom Thief swinging in a simple three-part combo. Diagonal, horizontal, diagonal. If the sudden rush caught the cyborg off guard, the moment Zenkichi took to reset and draw in a deep, ragged-sounding breath would give him time to re-center.

Surprised by his opponent’s sudden power-up and interrupted by the ensuing onslaught, Band instinctively dashed backward as soon as he could, though that amounted to little more than a hop. He worried that his somewhat panicked response might have been too predictable, but when Zenkichi didn’t take advantage, Band paused as well. He gave a brief nod of respect for Zenkichi’s instincts, and the timbre of the other man’s breathing did not escape him.

“You holdin’ out okay?” he asked, straightening up. “I’m well aware that even with me pullin’ my punches, I got a whole lot o’ weight on you. I don’t think the tournaments distinguish by weight class, but still.” He cracked his next first to one side, then the other, flexing some of the few muscles left to him. “Your swings ain’t half bad, but don’t be afraid to show off your combos. Ain’t gonna get far without ‘em.”

Pulling himself to full height and letting out a long sigh, Zenkichi nodded. ”I'm hanging in there, though I'm starting to realize just how out of my depth I am with this kind of fighting. I don't really have combos or much actual skill with this thing. Shadows were never too much of a hassle to just wail on. I've relied a lot on just powering through and sheer strength for the most part. I've got a lot more skill with hand to hand, but punching a guy half made of metal…probably not too good for me.”

“No combos?” Band’s eyebrows went up. “Well, there’s your problem! Even a novice like me knows that’s where your damage is. They ain’t easy, of course, but if you can figure out somethin’ that works and get the execution down, pilin’ on the damage becomes the easy part.” He let out a rueful chuckle. “Findin’ an openin’s the tough part. But nevermind all that for now. Since it’s been a long day, how ‘bout we pivot and figure out a combo for ya?”

He looked around, hoping to find something that the detectives could use as a training dummy. At the same time, Band explained as best he could. “See, a combo’s when you put together a chain of moves that flow into each other, leavin’ the other guy staggered just long enough for you to hit ‘em again before they can fight back or start blockin’. I ‘specially like launchin’ ‘em way up high, then whackin’ ‘em in the air. Jugglin’ fools like a clown juggles balls. Or, you could use moves that leave ‘em reelin’ for a while. See this?” He used Beat Extend again, his giant tambourine halves clapping shut with nothing but air between them. “If I hit someone with this, I can play ‘em a li’l tune to stun ‘em with the sound, givin’ me a nice an’ easy follow-up. Lets me combo off hits I couldn’t otherwise, but it only works once per combo.”

Band paused his explanation to narrow his eyes at Zenkichi. “Course…might be that you just ain’t built for this kind o’ fightin’. If that’s the case, ya might wanna consider fusin’ with someone who can, pronto. It ain’t pretty, but we gotta do what we gotta do.”

Zenkichi took in the impromptu fighting game lesson from Band carefully, trying to figure out a way he could apply it to his fighting style. He managed a decent mix-up against Kyanta, but that involved shooting them in the face before unleashing a full-power Eruption by catching them off guard with its hyperarmor. In a friendly spar, that was hardly sporting conduct. ”That…sounds good. I was probably going to push myself a little too far, to be frank.” When the idea that he wasn’t built for tournament fighting came up, he gave a noncommittal half-shrug. ”You might have a point there, but finding a…Spirit this late in the game? Might be tough. And no guarantee I’d get something I meshed with.”

Left unsaid was the moral implication of killing somebody to fuse with them for the tournament. They might be after the Guardians, but he already wasn’t terribly fond of killing people and fusing with them. The battlefield from the day before was a bit of a different matter, those being an actual horde of soldiers trying to murder everything in sight, but Esaka was filled with people just trying to get by. Going to the outskirts could have yielded more…unsavory folks, but that brought with it the ramifications of fusing with that kind of person.

”I think I’ll stick with trying to come up with a combo.” He finished, simply.

Band nodded “Alright. Hold up a sec.” The cyborg left and went inside, giving his comrade a chance to take a break as he searched for a Mecha-Zangief. A couple minutes later, he returned carrying a spare model without any AI set, little more than a giant-size action figure. Human-shaped and movable but unable to fight back, it would be the perfect training dummy. After getting it into the ring, which turned out to be pretty tricky given the Mecha-Zangief’s bulk, Band stood him up and faced him toward Zenkichi.

“Go on, try out whatever comes to mind,” Band said. “Just remember, the longer and more complicated a combo is, the harder it’ll be to pull it off without droppin’. Chances are, the second you let the other guy slip free, he’s gonna dodge away, start blockin’, or catch you off guard with a jab or somethin’ and start a combo of his own. Ya dig?”

With a few minutes to catch his breath and recover some of his energy, Zenkichi was ready to get to work when Band returned with the Mecha-Zangief. Summoning Ragnell and putting himself close to the robot, he thought about it. He typically started with an upward diagonal slash, which left his sword on his left side. Thinking on how he’d seen Geralt fight before, the only frame of reference for a similar blade, he got an idea.

He started with the typical diagonal slash, but instead of transitioning to a horizontal slash from the left, he hit the motionless robot with the pommel of his sword, then took a quarter-step back and slammed his sword down, taking the Zangief to the floor with it. ”Hmm. I don’t hate that one.”

The pair lifted the bot back to its feet, and Zenkichi circled around it. Throwing it around would be a little tough with its weight, but he had an idea. He summoned Valjean and boosted his strength with Tarukaja. It didn’t seem like this would work in the tournament, thanks to the Heavenly Principles doing their best to keep fighters on a roughly level playing field when it came to their abilities, but it would let him throw this thing around more like a regular-weight person.

When he wasn’t fighting with a greatsword, Zenkichi’s style changed drastically. He eschewed power for speed and control, all the better to use his less-than-huge Japanese frame. Sure, he was plenty tall for a Japanese man after his fusions, but he was no sumo. His leg bent behind the Zangief’s knee as he grabbed its left arm with his right hand and pulled it across his body, while the other hand pushed into its shoulder with a practiced burst of force, sending it to the ground as its legs disappeared from underneath its torso, blocked behind Zenkichi’s own leg. ”And a simple throw. Could stomp its chest from there, or get down and grapple, though without any handcuffs or anything I don’t think tussling on the ground will be my best plan. Could also follow up with some sword attacks.” He mused.

“Time it right, and even throws can lead to a combo. The trick is to keep poppin’ ‘em back up and not let ‘em touch the ground. Check this out.” Band stepped forward to take center stage against the hapless Mecha Zangief. He deployed two halves of a giant bell that slammed shut around the robot, then rang it, albeit as quietly as he could. When the Mecha Zangief slumped down afterward, he used a medium-strength Giant Step. Deploying the drop pedal caused it to pop up beneath his target, then knock him closer to Band, which allowed him to follow up with the soundblasts of Bass Drop and a saxophone uppercut. From there he jumped up into the air after his target, belted out a middle and then high lateral soundblast, then send Mecha Zangief flying with a five thousand pound dropkick. As he landed on his back, then teched forward off the ground, his opponent bounced off the ring’s ropes and back toward him. Since Band wasn’t really trying to show off, he cut the combo short there with an unceremonious horn honk.

After his makeshift training dummy toppled, Band relaxed and took a deep breath. “See what I mean? Oh, one other thing.” He deployed two small mechanical arms, one with a little mallet and another with a cymbal. “Just in case you ain’t in the know, the game works like this. Block beats strike.” He struck the tiny cymbal, then changed the mallet out for a pincer. “Throw beats block.” After grabbing the cymbal and twisting it sideways, he traded the cymbal for a mallet. When the pincer tried to take hold of the mallet, it struck back before it could be grabbed. “And strike beats throw. So if you run into folks who like hunkerin’ down, you best be layin’ on hands. And if someone gets grab-happy, give ‘em a good slap. Sound good?”

Zenkichi nodded. ”Block beats strike, strike beats grab, and grab beats block.” He repeated to help commit it to memory. ”Got it.” Seeing what Band could pull off got Zenkichi thinking. He didn’t have ‘moves’ per se, but he got the jist. Summoning Ragnell again, he got to brainstorming and whaling on the Mecha-Zangief, trying out different combinations of attacks and grabs to see what could work out for him in the upcoming tournament.

Though by no means an expert combat instructor, Band offered pointers where he could, and when his words failed him he stepped in to try out some moves for himself and attempt to explain via demonstration. His own combos could use some work; he had a few routes committed to muscle memory, but he wasn’t very flexible, and when it came to converting stray hits into full combos he had a tougher time. Unfortunately, between his efforts and Zenkichi’s, the Mecha-Zangief could take only so much punishment. After losing one limb after another, its body finally fell to pieces, which spelled the end for the detectives’ training session. Given their labored breathing, it was probably for the best, as well. Still, both had made some progress, and they had a lot to think about. In the aftermath, Band gave his comrade a pat on the back with a giant mechanical arm. “Wanna grab a bite to eat?”

Zenkichi, tired as he was, had to catch himself from going tumbling, but he laughed and gave the larger man a nod. ”Yeah, that sounds good. I could use a good dinner.”

Blazermate was ready for the monkeys to be another threat they had to deal with but the TV man that had just joined, Tenna, showed his worth almost instantly turning was she figured might be a group of enemies into allies and getting rewarded for it as well. Blazermate was almost a bit disappointed she didn't get to use her shield. Then with Edward making an alternate path through the snow that voided the monkeys as well, Blazermate went from being ready for a fight to sitting back down. Considering how much she'd been fighting things here, finding a solution that required no fighting was rare. She was... almost disappointed a bit? Since if it wasn't healing or fighting, it wasn't something she was super good at.

The town itself was... well, it was some kind of like, town full of weird cyborg people? Cyborgs were weird to heal. If they didn't have the medabot parts she couldn't heal their mechanical bits, and usually they needed those to live. Well, unless their robot bodies worked with just normal healing but that was kinda random. Maybe she could ask someone around town on whats available and what she could do? She saw some people going for the bar, but she couldn't really do anything in a bar.

As Blazermate hovered idly, not even really looking around for something that might be of interest to her, one of the townsfolk tasked with guarding the village's periphery paused in the middle of making his rounds. Though his heavy clothing and odd helmet completely obscured his form, the Medabot could nonetheless feel his gaze upon her. He seemed unsure about something, but only after a few moments did he seem to work up the courage to approach her.

"Hey...you wouldn't happen to be an angel, would you?" Realizing that she might mistake his question for some sort of tactless pickup line, he quickly clarified. "Uh, that is to say, a member of the Airborne Squad. From the Colony?" He pointed vaguely upward toward the sky.

"No...? I'm from uh, out of town. I'm here with my friends. I do heal, but uh, I don't know how much there is to heal here. Cybernetics and healing don't mesh well sometimes." Blazermate said. "Some of my friends are drinking, but not much to do there for me so... Got any ideas?" Blazermate said. She then connected the dots on what the Guard had tried to not insinuate and also deflected, "Oh right, what are those balloon things?"

The man nodded curtly in response to her answer, indicating that it had pretty much been what he expected. "Got it, sorry. Don't really know what angels look like, since I've never seen one myself. Not many humans out there who can say that have." He crossed her arms as Blazermate spoke, not quite sure what she meant by 'ideas'. When she mentioned balloons, though, he gave a commiserating sigh. "Weird, aren't they? At first, we thought they were hyper-evolved Naytibas or something, the truth is, we have no idea. What they are, where they come from, or why..."

Suddenly wary, as if the hairs on the back of his neck had risen, the guard looked out at the dark snow fields. After a quiet moment, he continued. "All we know is, if they get into town and tie their strings around you, they'll lift you into the sky. And nobody who's been carried off has ever come back."

"Oh, thats not good! Well, I'm uh, only really good at like, fighting and healing and stuff. I mean, I can do some basic house chores and play video games but I don't think that counts. So uh, yeah. Maybe I should do something about that. Kinda weird that balloons are evil but I've seen weirder." Blazermate said.

The villager stroked the bottom of his helmet like a philosopher might strike his chin. "Hmm...well, seeing as it keeps getting colder every day, why not learn firemaking? Here, I was just practicing earlier. Watch."

Finding an open area, the man set down three normal logs. He removed a tinderbox from one of his pouches, then attempted to light the fire. It took a few tries, but the logs caught after about thirty seconds. He proceeded to make another couple campfires right next to the first one, taking a little over a minute total. "There, like that. It's a tough skill, takes a bit of technique and a whole lot of patience, but everyone needs to keep warm. And like my buddy used to say, the mind's at peace when the hands are not." He had one more set of logs, but rather than light them himself, he offered them and the tinderbox to Blazermate. "Give it a try?"

"Uh... ok." Blazermate said, not really seeing a point to this with Wood being so annoying to carry and there being multiple people on the team that conjured fire. She doubt she'd ever use this, but it was something to do so she tried lighting the logs with the tinderbox. It wasn't all that different from camping. It didn't take her too long to light the logs, but she really didn't see a point to this one. "Like that, yeah?"

The man nodded. "Yeah, that's it. Firemaking starts off slow, but once you figure out different logs, you can move on to incense, torches, candles, lanterns, and even hot-air balloons. Plus, people will always be grateful for a little warmth. Especially if they're suffering from hypothermia." He gestured at the tinderbox. "There, you can keep that one. I know some folks out there can light fires with a snap of their fingers, but doing it the old-fashioned way has its uses. You'll never know when you need it." At that point, the first campfire burned down to ash, not black like the ashes of slain World of Light denizens but a soft gray.

"Thanks. I should go do what I can to help the monkeys too. It wont take me too long to help." Blazermate said, putting the tinderbox away in the pouch on her belt.

Flying over to the monkeys that seemed to be allied with everyone now with Tenna helping with the bloons, Blazermate found a good spot on the snow to summon her engineer striker who started to build a sentry unopposed. And being unopposed, it didn't take long for him to finish making a level 3 sentry that aided the monkeys in popping bloons. With its high fire rate and occasional explosive rockets, it might be really effective, especially if the monkeys can feed it ammo.

Speaking of, as the party had made a new route through the snow, more bloons spawned. Having a 360 degree range and high fire rate, Blazermate put the sentry a bit in front of the monkeys to take whatever it could. It'd be of more help than Blazermate knew, as a lead balloon spawned that seemed to be immune to bullets and monkey darts, but once the sentry fired one of its rockets at it, the bloon popped. With the sentry's help, the wave was repelled and the day saved, well, until the next balloon abductor things.

"So uh, just fill that full of ammo and you should be ok? It'll help at least." Blazermate said, although she wasn't sure how long it could be helpful for if more and more balloons kept appearing.

The guard narrowed his eyes at the new route the Seekers had made to the village. "What we should do is bury that path your group made. The main road twists and turns that much for a reason!"

"Not sure what to do about that. Sectonia has some earth powers but snow and earth aren't really the same thing. Maybe Edward knows? He kinda did the whole alternate path thing in the first place." Blazermate said, scratching her head.

Mokou floats over the battlefield of monkeys and balloons, watching with mild interest as the defenses tore about the aggressive balloons… And even more when the new TV man that had joined their ranks ran out to help defeat the balloons. If she had the urge, she might’ve joined in with the destruction… But in truth, she couldn’t be bothered. Destroying a bunch of balloons did not sound like a worthwhile time to Mokou. Instead, she simply continues forward, floating past the battle and towards the village, landing just in front of a guard who regarded her with a curious look under their helmet,

“Huh, flying past the monkeys huh? I suppose that’s one way to do it” he comments, folding his arms, far more casual thanks to how infrequent danger came to this place, “I’m surprised to see a young face making their way to Gründachdorf. You’re not here to cause problems, are you?”

Mokou simply shakes her head at the question, hands leaving her pockets so she could show that they were empty of anything threatening, “Nonsense, just here to see the sights. And to find someone” Mokou walks up to the guard, placing her hands back into her pocket while looking up at them, her gaze somehow piercing their helmet to look them directly in the eyes, “Looking for a man named Baldur. Apparently he’s in the area and has a history of fighting anyone he comes across-”

Before she can get any further, the guard lets out a groan, “Ah, him. Didn’t know his name was Baldur, but yeah, we had someone like that pass through a while back. Went straight through those monkeys up there and then took out the entire militia. Demanded an audience with our commander and then beat him into the snow. Walked off towards the mountains without even a shirt” he explains, turning his body to gesture towards the village, “Position of Captain hasn’t been filled out ever since, and we lost a lot of good men to the balloons that came shortly afterwards.”

“... So those balloons are a threat. Interesting.” Mokou comments, letting out a sigh, “Sounds like the guy I’m looking for. Thanks, I think I’ll take a look around this place before I head out to get him.” With that, Mokou walks around the guard, giving him a small wave as she passes, “Take care. I’ll make sure he answers for the lives lost here.”

Heading into the snowy village, Mokou simply takes in the sights for a bit. The village was a nice, quiet place. Were she a few hundred years younger, she could imagine living near this place. Or at least, for a bit, considering the murderous balloons that apparently infested the lands. That alone made her hesitant to mark this as a nice home. But, humanity was stubborn, so it was no surprise that they would settle in a place like this.

As Mokou makes her way through the center of the villge, a small sound stops her in her tracks. Sitting on a bench near the village’s river was a bard with multicolored hair and a lyre, playing a soft song that flowed through the cold air. Their eyes were closed as they focused on their song, but as soon as Mokou began to approach, they opened to regard the approaching white haired girl with a cheerful warmth,

“Hey there, haven’t seen you around. Take a seat, company’s better when both parties are resting!” he said with a tone that matched the cheer in their eyes, an offer that Mokou accepted, falling onto the bench and folding one leg over the other,

“No surprise you haven’t seen me, never been around this place before. Just arrived a few minutes ago, in fact.”

“Ah, a traveler too, are you?” the bard asks with a grin, “Lots of folks coming through here these days. Did you come through the way with the monkeys?” a small nod from Mokou spurs the bard to continue, “They’re a fun sort. I’ve stuck around here for a few days and at one point went to watch them for a while, and they just go day in and day out fighting those balloons.”

“Hm, I had a distinct feeling they did that. I hardly encountered any sort of problem with them however: They didn’t seem to care about anything flying overhead” Mokou states, looping her arms around the back of her head and leaning further back into her seat on the bench.

The statement caused the bard to blink, bringing their free hand to their chin in contemplation, “Flying right above their heads huh? I ended up walking the path and getting a bomb hurled at me” they ruminate, brows furrowing slightly as they remembered the dreadful memory, “Thankfully they seem to only register threats as anyone who walks on the path. They never attacked when I got launched off of it” The bard lets out a small laugh, brushing off the memory, “But, that’s in the past now. I’m simply spending a few nights here to rest before heading back out on the road again.

“Nothing too major. Just helping out another group of travelers hunt down someone who passed through here. They figure he’s on the path to what’s called ‘The Moon Mountain’.”

“Ah, the crazy guy that went through the entire garrison. I wasn’t here when they came through, but apparently they’ve left a lasting impression” The bard laughs, not out of malice to the guards who fought as hard as they could, but to ease the mood now that a less pleasant subject had been brought up.

“Yeah, the guards here certainly seem a bit more on edge thanks to that” the phoenix states, frowning a bit as her voice falls to a whisper, “Immortals like him give us a bad name, don’t they?”

For a brief moment, the mirth in the bard’s laugh halted as they suddenly looked back at Mokou, their mouth slowly closing with a small, knowing nod, and much like Mokou his voice lowered to avoid being overheard, “I had a feeling you’d pick up on it. Took a look into your own eyes and knew you’d see a bit further. What exactly gave me away, if I may?”

Mokou simply shrugs at that, “Hard to say, it’s just a bit of your aura. A few hundred years of living alongside the divine lets you pick them up if you focus” she admits, “Not planning on sharing your secret though. I know how important it can be to keep your true nature hidden. I don’t entirely care anymore, but I know some still do” with that, the phoenix sits up from her seat, dusting her pants off, “Well, I should make sure that group got here safely in the first place and then prepare to head out” she states, already taking a few steps to leave, only to be stopped as Venti called out to her, placing his lyre onto the bench,

“Hey, before you go, from one adventurer to another…” The bard states, closing their eyes for a moment, holding out their hand. A swirl of green wind flows through the air, coalescing into his open palm and quickly forming a Lyre, not quite the same as the one he held already, but certainly one of exquisite quality, “I have a few of these stored away, so consider this a gift. It isn’t much, but… Think of it as a good luck charm for taking down that guy. Can’t have him go around causing more trouble for towns, can we?”



Mokou blinks in surprise at the offer… But reaches out to take it, holding it under her arm, “Hm. Haven’t played music in a while, but… Thanks.”

“Hey, we all need a hobby or two. Learn some songs and next time we see each other I might give you something else” Venti says with a smile, standing up from their seat as well, “Or just get some drinks at a tavern. A good wine always elevates the spirit, as I say. My name is Venti, by the way, for when we find each other again.”

Throughout the conversation, Mokou had kept her face rather impassive… But with Venti’s words, the phoenix couldn’t help but smile a bit, “Fujiwara no Mokou. But I just go by Mokou” she states, lifting one hand from her pockets to give the bard a small wave, “Suppose I’ll see you another time then, if our paths cross. I’ve gotta go deal with an old man who can’t catch up to the times.”

And with that, Mokou turns and walks away, leaving the wandering bard to return to his music as she searched for the rest of the group, partially to rendezvous with them and partially to store her new gift away. She certainly hadn’t played in centuries, but it could be fun getting back into it.

---

---

Edward had seen many many types of people with all sorts of magical modifications, from steel skin, being turned into nagas, being wreathed in flames (or all of these at once), and so had learned long ago how to look without staring at the oddities he was presented with. Enough to disguise it from the individual passers by he was people watching at any rate, but to anyone traveling with him, and paying attention, Edward’s distinct interest was hard to miss. Given his nature as an engineer/golem-mancer, this being something of distinct interest would perhaps be unsurprising.

Ramattra noticed the curious expression form on Edward’s face, revealing his interest in the augmentations attached to the denizens of this area. From the world where Ramattra came, cybernetics were a common technology, though notably not as advanced as the cybernetics seen around the village. With his knowledge of “magic” being from media in his world, the concept was not unfamiliar to Ramattra, like cybernetics might’ve been to Edward.

”Many people in my world use those augmentations to ‘upgrade’ themselves. It’s not too dissimilar to fusing with a spirit.” He leaned so that only the Seeker could hear, trying not to discuss these matters openly in front of the villagers still under Galeem’s influence. “It is also… like magic. In a way, it is the closest thing to it in my world. It seems there are places similar to mine.

Edward turned his focus away from the passers by, and to the convenient expert on hand ”They aren't entirely uncommon. Indeed, I’d say places of high magic might be rarer than ones of high technology. Still, I was surprised to find one here. Then again, maybe the zoo with its puppets was something of a ‘transition’ between the less technological area we started in and this one? I have not yet seen enough of the world Galeem made to get a feel for how much it cared about such things when creating it”

”I can certainly see the appeal. Power is power after all, and we need all we can get. Still, it seems like it would require a lot of maintenance. I wonder how many mechanics this place must have, if the rest of the population is as ‘augmented’ as those we’ve seen”

”They appear to be quite a dominant commodity in this village. I wouldn’t be entirely surprised if there were more human amalgamations of steel like that lady Heismay mentioned…” Ramattra was lucky to have been a sentient AI. Whatever was wrong with the singer seemed to be rooted deeper than just cybernetic overload.

”Possibly. We can’t exactly see what lies beneath the skin after all, and it would be rude to pry” Edward agreed, before thinking for a moment. He then said ”You know, we might have something for her, if she’s as mechanical as you think?”

”Now, I can’t really check while driving, but, here, take this” Edward said, while offering a magical connection with a small gesture that lingered until mentally accepted or dismisted. Not waiting for that decision, he then briefly took a hand of the reins, and said ”then do this” before performing a series of gestures that called up what looked a lot like a holographic display in front of him, just one with a superfluous looking ring of incomprehensible symbols slowly rotating around it.

”Remote access to the Avenger’s armory” he explained, before saging ”I believe there was something in there that was useful for repairing AI, which I understand is what machine based intelligences are known as. If she is steel of mind as well as steel of body, maybe they would be interested in acquiring it from you?”

”Feel free to pursue in general as well. Who knows, there might be something of interest to you in there”

After being trusted with access to the Armory by Edward, Ramattra immediately wanted to begin searching for any equipment to face the potential dangers ahead. Regardless of whether he found something of use, this could be a great opportunity for the Omnic to learn what kind of weaponry existed in this world.

Before deciding on his picks from the armory, Ramattra would retrieve the Mind Map Copy from the armory. ”If it’s for AI, we'd best hope her plethora of cybernetics contains some sort of backup once she’s repaired… Hm…” Ramattra would summon the drive-like technology from the Armory, displaying it to Edward so that the technologically uninformed commander could see the desired equipment. ”We can offer this to the barkeep in charge of that poor woman whenever you wish.”

Now for the fun… Ram didn’t want to be selfish and take more equipment than necessary, but some of the tools available struck a deep curiosity in the machine as he perused the mixture of high-tech and high-magic items at his disposal. What piqued his interest the most, however, was a piece of cybernetic technology to be attached to the back. He would need to visit an incredibly skilled mechanic to get it installed, but… Maybe the payoff would be worth it if he let somebody take a look.



Edward had simply nodded in response to Ramattra’s comment, but once he picked out the spine from the armory’s stores, he suggested ”Maybe you could trade that ‘mind map’ for a referral to someone who could install that? I imagine, given her state, they’ve had any experts in town come have a look at her after all”

”Very well.” Ramattra acknowledged simply. He was pretty positive that he had time to visit The Last Gulp before they reached the tower that was marked for their destination. He stood from his seat in the Stagecoach, finishing their short briefing with his new piece of equipment and the Mind Map Copy clutched gently in his fist. ”I’m going to make a quick stop at that bar. I’ll meet back with the team immediately after.” There definitely wasn’t enough time to stop and install his exo-spine amidst their current route, so asking about any engineers would be extremely helpful.

---

Ramattra was lucky he wasn’t programmed with a sense of smell. Based off the dank aesthetic of the town around him, he could only imagine the passing scents of industry, smoke, and alcohol. Going down the steps to The Last Gulp, the Omnic suprisingly didn’t find himself entirely out of place in the technological dystopia around him despite it’s appearance.

Finally, Ramattra would be able to see the mentioned damage Heismay had brought to the attention of the Seekers, and just as astonished by her mere survival as his short companion was at the sight, he stood in the doorway, waiting to be excused inside.

The red-hooded barkeep would shout for his attention, the same way he did previously. “Hey, restricted area pal! Seriously, what the hell is up with all the visitor traffic today…” he muttered underneath his breath, trying to shoo the Omnic out of the property.

”I came by the word of Heismay who said your… friend, was suffering major AI malfunction. The barkeep took interest in what Ramattra had to say now, his interaction with the rogue clueing him in that the Omnic could be here to help. The Omnic began producing the drive that contained the Mind Map Copy, allowing the man to speak.

“You know how to fix it?” He asked quickly, more hoping for an immediate solution, rather than the bandage solution Ramattra was soon to present.

”I’m not an expert on cybernetics.” he immediately disclaimed, offering the drive to the protective man. ”But this drive should contain a protocol that should repair her…”

The barkeep was skeptical, eyeing the drive for a moment and considering his desperation. He really shouldn’t accept a strange drive from a visitor… But something about the honesty Ramattra spoke convinced him to clutch the drive from the Omnic’s hand. ”You can run a diagnostic on it if you don’t trust me. I don’t judge you for your caution.”

With that, the Omnic would begin to turn before stopping himself in the doorway, remembering that he had come here to ask for any cybernetic installation engineers. ”By the by, you wouldn’t happen to know of any Omnic professionals who might be able to install this to my spine?” He dangled the exo-spine somewhat haphazardly to show, like a crazed mercenary who had just ripped it out to siphon it of it’s energy.

The man considered for a moment, the word “Omnic”, assumedly meant whatever kind of robot Ramattra was. “I don’t know about any ‘Omnic’ specialists, but there’s an engineer named Lily in a nearby place that could get you rigged up.” He acknowledged, somewhat remorseful he had been rude to Ram at first.

The Omnic gave a curt nod before vanishing up the steps, leaving behind the Mind Map Copy.

---

By the time Edward had slowly navigated their oversized stagecoach through town (their ride was a one vehicle traffic jam and Edward had to wonder who thought it had ever been a practical creation), the Omnic had caught back up with them again, just in time to see the pair, Adam and Eve, being accepted into the party.

”I’ll admit, I’m not entirely familiar with some of your terminology” Edward said the pair of Adam and Eve as the moved to join them. ”I assume the space elevator is, well, that” he said with a nod towards the massive structure on the road ahead of them, before asking ”but what might a ‘Alpha Naytiba’ be?”

The question did not seem to phase Eve, who offered a succinct explanation in response. "Naytibas are monsters that threaten humanity, and Alpha Naytibas are the strongest among them, which assume a sort of command role over their weaker subordinates."

"Basically, they're your boss monsters," Adam summarized.

”I… see” Edward replied. That information certainly was succinct. He supposed it only would matter if they were going to run into these monsters, which led him to ask ”are these monsters anything we might have to worry about while traveling through ‘Spire 4’? Or are they mostly concentrated in this ‘space elevator’?"

Adam gave him a sympathetic expression. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure they're gonna be crawling all over the place."

”I see” Edward replied, before trying a more direct probe for information ”Any advice on dealing with them then, or capabilities they have we should worry about?”

"There is a variety of subspecies with different abilities," Eve reported. "Brute strength, bladed limbs, flight, stealth, elemental abilities...the only way through is to be a highly capable and flexible combatant."

Adam shrugged. "Or have a really good team."

”Well then” Edward said non-commitly while he thought for a moment rather than outing his annoyance at the brevity of the answers. Knowing that there was a whole host of them was information on its own, he reminded himself, and brevity had its merits too.

So he mentally shrugged away his frustration and said that optimistically ”I like to think we have some of those here in our little traveling company” and then apologetically ”Ah, and I’m Edward Portsmith. My apologies for not leading with that, my curiosity got the better of me”

The Omnic who stood idly listening to the conversation nearby chimed with a polite bow. ”Ramattra of Null Sector, at your service.” While his title was meaningless without an army, the Omnic did not want to waste his honorifics.

"Not at all," Eve replied, her manner friendly enough. "Since we'll be traveling together, I'm certain we've got nothing to worry about in terms of team quality."

”Wonderful to hear” Edward replied, before holding out a hand with two glowing motes of red and gold while saying ”But here, let me offer a little extra enchanted edge” as he presented them with his boons.

While she didn't know what Edward was doing, Eve stepped forward to accept what sounded like help. She reached up toward her ponytail and removed her high-tech hairpin, which transformed into a sophisticated sword that she held out for her new acquaintance to enchant.

The man in turn touched a finger to the blade, causing the two glows to flow from his palm and surround the blade, granting it Edward’s combo of igniting and armor sundering enchantments.

Ram stood puzzled at the ritual before him, seeing the energy fuse with Eve’s technology and intricate weaponry. It was like the nanites coursing through his circuitry, powering his staff. Magic really wasn’t too difficult for the omnic to understand, but still seeing it in person, free from Galeem’s grasp, was quite a spectacle.

"My thanks," Eve told him with a small smile. She paused to see if the Seekers' spokesperson had any other matters that involved her.

”Not a problem” He replied, with a smile of his own, before giving a little sardonic head bob to the side as he pointed out that ”Besides, anything that helps you fight better helps keep our transport safer”

Speaking of, it was about time they got moving, and so he got the Reindrix doing so. He did so at a pace slow enough that people would be able to still hop on easily enough, and then ramped things up once everyone who was going to do so had come aboard.

Prior to Nadia’s departure, Terry had offered his apologies. He was so sincere about it that the feral wound up feeling bad about how vehement her response had been. It wasn’t often that Nadia acted like that; it didn’t exactly gel with her carefully cultivated self-image as a cheerfully nonchalant jokester who smiled through pain and panic alike. As he averted his eyes and shrugged, Nadia ran a hand through and flipped her hair, flicking a mental switch. By the time Terry shrugged and went for eye contact, the catgirl’s body language had reset to her natural relaxed, jovial state, and she wore a mischievous, easygoing smile. “Haha, no worries, blondie. I was just givin’ ya a hard time. Gotta put the newbies through their paces, y’know?”

She slipped out afterwards. Then it wasn't long after she left before Primrose joined her outside of Banishing Flats. The dancer declined to book a room just yet, instead trading a few quiet words with her fellow Orsterran before leaving. The men seemed disinclined to join them, and as for Sakura, Amaterasu, and Yayama… the former might be a little young for a tavern, the latter (though the shortest, her bearing made it very clear to Primrose that she was not a child) had her head down on a table clearly not in the mood, and Amaterasu was, of course, a wolf. It seemed it would just be the two friends, which suited Primrose just fine.

There was a soft thump behind the women as the (formerly) high class pup nosed his way out of the building as well and the door closed after him. Perhaps not just the two, then.

Primrose took just a moment to smooth out her dress before she glanced at Nadia with a small smile. "Let's see what trouble we can get up to. There were a few places around this tier Therion and I passed earlier that we can stop by…"

When Nadia knelt down the stray pattered over and allowed himself to be stroked, still tempted by the telltale smell of her newfound affluence. The catgirl made a mental note to buy him some treats later, which might have been a little optimistic given her scatterbrained tendencies. She missed Chucho, although she knew that the polterpup she’d adopted in the Under would be at home aboard the Avenger. After giving the little dog a final pat on the head, Nadia turned her smile up toward her friend. “Sounds good. Though, I think I mighta gotten into enough trouble today already,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “Maybe I should find somewhere else to stay. Just in case that Kazuya guy or his goons come knockin’. Not like I can’t afford it~”

She stood up, straightening her arms and calico tail in a luxurious, carefree stretch, then glanced back over at the golden streaks amidst the murky stormclouds. A beautiful evening sky like that was worth preserving in a photograph–if only the feral had a camera. “Guess we’re lucky the rain stopped when it did. No tellin’ ‘weather’ or not it’ll pick up again, though.” She faced Primrose and held her arm toward the street as if to say after you. “Lead the way!”

The dancer offered a short, playful curtsy as she did just that, taking the two of them and their furry tag-a-long away from the motel down a straight stretch of road. The city almost seemed to glow in the twilight, even here nestled in the center of the 'cake,' as sunbeams swept across the bronze trimming and finials of Esaka's buildings, making them twinkle in the lingering cloud cover's shade.

Primrose had seen Nadia bounce back from a number of things now, and she doubted the poor reaction to her heist would be any different, but even so the least Primrose could do was reassure her friend.

"Don't worry about this Kazuya. Like you said yourself, we can handle one man, demon or no. The others will come around," she told Nadia, glancing over at her. Then, to give the cat burglar an out, while her eyes traced the edges of the homes, businesses, and dojos she added, "although, I've never seen a city like this before. The way the architecture looks, and how it's stacked... It's quite pretty. If you did want to see and stay in other parts of it, I certainly wouldn't blame you."

Glad for any chance to quit reflecting and focus on superficial stuff, Nadia nodded in agreement. In fact, the feral was barely watching where she was going as she took in the extravagant scenery. Toward the west, the stage was set for a glorious sundown, with the city’s many spires and peaked rooftops silhouetted against the warm hues of a half-hidden sky. In the east, meanwhile, that light reflected off of colorful shingles shiny and dripping from rainwater. No matter which of Esaka’s tiers one might happen to be in, one could find a rich interplay between celebrated past and innovative present, with formidable jade-roofed pagodas standing hand in hand with in-progress skyscrapers. Down at street level, meanwhile, things only got more interesting. Now that the deluge had subsided, the cityfolk had emerged to portend a thriving nightlife. Everywhere Nadia looked, she found weird and wonderful people of all shapes and sizes, shops and homes that spanned every conceivable era and architectural style, united in common passion and purpose.

“It’s incredible,” Nadia replied after a moment. Even after almost a full day here, her genuine amazement hadn’t diminished one bit. “It’s so…dense. Jam-packed with interestin’ stuff. For someone with a short attention span, it’s basically paradise. I could just wander for hours…I never would’ve thought I’d find a place I wanted to get lost!” Under normal circumstances most folks would be understandably wary of such a sprawling, chaotic metropolis, but since everyone in Esaka could fend for themselves, its society encouraged a strange sort of mutual respect. It was an exceptional place in more ways than one.

Nadia paused to marvel at a food stand built into a dragon carcass, and lick her lips at the a savory aroma of its grilled chicken skewers, before moving on with a shake of her head. “It’s special even compared to most places we’ve been, y’know? ‘Cause all of this stuff comes from different worlds. Like, Limsa Lominscuttle Town felt like a specific city from one world, with a bunch of other stuff thrown in. The Home of Tears and Mafia Town felt the same way. But this is totally different. It’s one big melting pot from top to bottom, too mixed up to come from any one place. Kinda like the Lost Numbers, eh? A World of Light original.”

She looked down at the cobblestones beneath her boots as she walked, her voice lowering somewhat. “Even if it’s all screwed up ‘cause of Moebius, it’s kinda sad that…if we win, everythin’ like this is just gonna be…gone.”

Nadia glanced at Primrose, watching closely for her reaction.

Primrose's expression hadn't changed much from the subtle admiration of the city she'd been showing, though there was now a hint of thoughtfulness in her eyes. She had considered this before, but never in depth, as though she was separate and the end of this world wouldn't affect her. So it was that when she replied, it was with a cool, detached countenance.

"I wonder... Everything we see is a copy, but not an illusion - more like a replica. The stone is real..." She brushed her fingers against the wall of a building they passed close by. "... the people are flesh and blood. For the most part. Even if the 'power source' is removed, it may not simply collapse."

The corners of her lips quirked upward. "Well, I wouldn't know. But a few Seekers are already making plans for after the fact, so they must not think it will disappear."

Primrose's expression softened ever so slightly after a few moments.

"I know what you mean though. Places one would never be able to conceive of, let alone see, if not for being created here... it's incredible in a lot of ways. And eventually we'll leave it all to memory."

In good company, Nadia permitted her smile to fade away. She tended to get through her days in relative happiness by neither dwelling on the past nor thinking much about the future, but right now felt like a good chance to get it out of her system. While she didn’t plan to consider the sobering subject that was the eventual fate of all things, the catgirl couldn’t help but wonder about the campaign’s end. “What if,” she began, “We fight Galeem and actually beat it, somehow. And at that point, we’re given a choice. End the World of Light, and set things back to how they used to be. Or…keep the World of Light goin’, under new management. Try and fix things so they’re less…eheh, awful, I guess.”

She shrugged. “Not that I wanna have that responsibility, hell no. I just wanna spend my days havin’ fun, goin’ on adventures, and spendin’ time with my friends. Maybe even a special someone, y’know? But…” When she glanced around furtively, her body language suggested much more apprehension than the feral typically let on. “If the World of Light ends, it’s not just places like Esaka that go bye-bye. You, me…accordin’ to Asgore and the Lost Numbers, we’re all just the latest and greatest copies. Copies of what, though? If there’s, like, an original Primrose and Ms Fortune out there, maybe endin’ this world will let ‘em go back to normal…”

Nadia stopped, her brows furrowed and her one fist balled as she leaned against a building for support. “But why do they have any more right to live than us, huh? Even if I got less than ten years left, I’m not just gonna lie down and die ‘cause…’cause I’m not the real one! No way! I don’t want…” She grit her teeth, then turned to Primrose with a despondent look on her face. “Look, you, me, all the others. We can laugh and cry, grow, uh…change…and dream. Even have kids! We’re real too, dammit.” She took a shaky breath. “Aren’t we?”

Primrose had slowed a few feet away from Ms. Fortune, turning to give the other woman her full attention. She hadn't expected this, but clearly it had been weighing on Nadia. Probably from the moment they'd had the truth laid out to them all - and the closer they got to defeating Galeem, the heavier that weight would be. The dancer let Nadia get all of her thoughts out, responding only once she'd asked that fragile, forlorn question.

"Of course we are," Primrose said, her voice steady and hard. Even after everything they'd learned, she felt that to be true. Briefly her own thoughts flickered back to a hole in the wall in Dirtmouth, where another Primrose had looked upon her with disdain until she was reduced to spirit once more. The present Primrose hesitated to speak again for a few moments. Then, she inclined her head slightly. That other self may have felt the same way as Nadia now. She had probably been real, too - but it didn't make who she was any less.

She wished she could have borrowed some of her friends' strengths in that moment; Cyrus' ability to rationalize the abstract, Alfyn's uncanny power to comfort others, or Ophelia's quiet way of inspiring hope. She only had herself though, and her own perspective.

"I am Primrose Azelhart," she said with a hint of pride at the statement. "Even if I'm copied from a Primrose template, and even after everything we've learned... I don't consider myself separate from that original. Her goals are mine. Mine are hers. When everything ends, mayhaps she'll wake up and the memories I've made will live in her. Or mayhaps this world lives on and she becomes me."

From the slight change of her tone, an observant listener could tell that Primrose preferred the former option. There were things she'd left unfinished in her -in Primrose's- original world that may not ever be completed in this one. She did not pause for long, though.

"And you are Nadia Fortune. If the world comes to an end you aren't trading your life for hers; you are her. If we stay here, or go back 'home'... No matter what happens you won't disappear. At least... that's what I choose to believe."

Was some of her confidence in the outcome getting through to Nadia? Primrose wasn't sure, but she hoped it was as she watched her friend.

After a brief moment, Nadia slowly let out the breath she’d been holding. Her eyes were closed as she inhaled deep through her nose, then exhaled again, shorter this time. Although she knew that Primrose didn’t necessarily know any better about the reality of their existence than she did, the mere act of trying to bring the feral solace -of showing she cared- helped ground her. Even if the comfort she offered boiled down to being just what Nadia wanted to hear, it was what she needed, and she would savor that lie–not to mention every precious second of time she got to spend with her friends. When she looked back at Primrose, she did not crack a grin, but there was gratitude in her eyes, and her uncharacteristic lack of smile reflected just how comfortable the catgirl felt being genuine around her. It was unfair to expect such succor from someone, especially someone who shared her turmoil, but the dancer had done it anyway. A lot was going through Nadia’s mind, but in the end she could come up with only one word to say. “Thanks.”

"No thanks needed," Primrose replied, her voice softening up. Honestly more than just trying to reassure Nadia, giving voice to her thoughts had reinforced them in her own mind. No matter what happened, or how she changed, she was real - even if she was just one of two, or more. She was a real Primrose. And she would keep fighting until at least one Primrose could complete their life's mission. The existentialism that all the Seekers had to grapple with was not to be taken lightly, but hopefully, her companions would eventually feel the same. "Come on."

Then the two got moving again, and as the stormclouds continued to clear above them, the sun continued its plunge toward the horizon. Conversation turned once again toward lighter topics as the two women progressed toward their destination. They passed a few businesses that might have fit what the girls were looking for, including a building near one of the elevators down to the Low Tier with upbeat dance music filtering out of it, in stark contrast to the gritty aesthetic that could be just barely be seen through the slatted window shades covering the front windows now that the sun was setting, but it was evidently not the venue Primrose had in mind as she passed it by. Instead she led the two of them into the thick of the Mid Tier, closer to the wall that supported the tier above it, where nestled snugly between two alleyways was a more unassuming cantina. At least, on the outside.

The exterior was a curious mix of Asian and European design, with its roof made of sloping tiles to match its neighbors though in a terracotta shade rather than the more common dark hue. Its body was brick and stucco, with a simple sign reading "Tavern" above the only official entrance. Right beside the door was a man in a black suit seated on a stool - a bouncer more than likely, and when he noted the two women approaching he stood tall and imposing... except for the smile on his face.

"Ah, hermosa, back again," he said to Primrose with a congenial lilt. Then he looked at her company, his surprisingly friendly expression not faltering whatsoever. "With a different friend this time. Good thinking, this one is much prettier!"

By the time the two Seekers had arrived, Primrose had slipped back into a passively cordial look, though now she made her smile brighten and her eyelashes flutter as she offered the man a small giggle. "I thought so too. And I'm hoping to get a look inside, this time."

"Technically we're members only..." he said, stroking his chin as he pretended to consider the offer. Almost immediately he dropped the act. "But we always make an exception for the beautiful. Right this way, ladies."

The bouncer opened the door for them and swept his arm in a welcoming gesture towards the tavern's interior. Right away Nadia and Primrose could feel warmth radiating out, along with the glow of soft lighting. As they stepped inside (followed by the chihuahua who'd managed to sneak in after them), they found an elegantly rustic establishment, with a full bar stocked with whole barrels of aged wine and tasteful polished wooden tables dotting the area. Women in colorful skirts served diners, moving between this front area and two adjacent rooms. One was behind a closed door down a short, dark hall, though as the servers entered or exited a glimpse of a betting parlor with a few mounted flat-screens could be seen, upon which were currently showing the "TBD" rosters of all four of Esaka's biggest tournaments.

The other room, the largest of the areas in the front of the house by far, featured a huge central ballroom floor with dining seats arranged around the perimeter and a giant ornate crystal chandelier that flooded the whole space with warm yellow light. On one side there was a stage more than large enough for people to perform on, and it was there that the tavern's live music filtered throughout the building from, as a couple of musicians played a tune with a Spanish flair. It would have been a perfectly normal cantina, if not for the middle of the room being completely fenced in by iron gates, with scratches and scuffs gouged into the polished floor that suggested while the establishment had a stage, the real entertainment took place within the cage.

Above it all a neon sign stated in elegant script the name of this exclusive establishment: Mesón De Las Flores.

---

---

While the visual aesthetic of the Stagecoach and The Midnight Walk was rather… Drab- Tenna was not a TV that was easy to surrender! Wherever he travelled, he brought that good old CRT nostalgia, and surely his presence among the Seekers was cheerful enough to outweigh a lot of the gloom so many other members brought… He was a dying star, but a star still shining nonetheless. Tenna just had to find where his attention was most welcome.

After defending the snow-covered valley with all of his new monkey friends, Tenna was awarded with an odd banana-shaped gem! He’d have to ask one of the seekers what could be done with it because the only value the odd TV-man could see in it was a fancy paperweight. If only he knew who was properly in charge of operations… Maybe he could ask that funny purple robot fellow that helped him pop bloons later.

With a village approaching on the nearby horizon, Tenna was buzzing with excitement to meet the locals and impress them with his impressive array of technocolors! That’s to say if the village is more posh than it looks from afar… It was certainly hard to tell, but from where the coach stood, Tenna could feel the aura of dread seeping from the town ahead.

Sectonia wasn’t really all that happy about the village they had to stop in. Considering the denizens within, that feeling was a bit more well-founded. Cybernetics often leads to tough not looking very good. But even then, there was something… interesting about it she’d find later. But for now, she wasn’t very much interested in this town as it was for now. It was just another location to her for the time being.

---

As the rest of the Seekers set out to complete side objectives or explore the local area, Tenna found himself looking at the neon and cyber decor around the area… Despite being a high-technology area, it was easy to notice the corruption and decay of their little civilization. While he wasn’t one to judge, the air around the TV-man was rich with melancholy, and he just couldn’t help but get the blues.

People with human or cybernetic eyes would stare as the lonely TV man passed depressed faces on the sidewalk. With all the odd faces making up the Seekers, it was odd to see commonfolk going about their nightly responsibilities. It wasn't until an odd-looking child laborer pointed at Tenna excitedly while leaning on a futuristic skateboard. “That man’s head is a screen! Ain’t eva’ seen a Solaris like you before!” The child seemed to be mistaking the CRT with another group of locals. She excitedly ran up to Tenna, examining his odd appearance compared to the techno-dystopia around her.

“I can’t believe it, ohh! Yeah, yeah! Show me something on your screen!” The child seemed like an outcast punk next to her fellow vendors and wasn’t afraid of speaking her mind. Luckily for Tenna, this was the kind of attention he lived for!

”Oh my small, oil-smudged friend! I can do much more than just SHOW you something! I can play games and music! I can even make shadow-puppet minions!” Okay, that got him an odd look. Why would he even mention his Shadow Guys? Whatever, he’ll just ignore that and show the kid an awesome rock-n’-roll music video!

Not much of a good-looking town close up, either. It seemed to reek of a civilization in decline. Something she could fix later, perhaps, but it really didn’t please her all that much. As she looked around the village like only a noble woman could, she saw one of the newer faces to the party, the TV man, Tenna.

Sectonia knew very little about this guy, other than he negotiated with the monkeys somehow and turned them from potential enemies into allies. An interesting ability, although Sectonia would need to see more of the TV man. She watched from a moderate distance as Tenna interacted with the children of the town, seeing what he would do.

The TV-headed show host seemingly began to get the attention of other nearby Ventikids, who popped out of industrial vents with their hoverboards to see who their leader had been talking to, their curiosity too strong to stay in their airduct-bound headquarters. Suddenly, a performance with a nameless, unfamiliar rock band would boom on Tenna’s incandescent screen, performing an old recording of frustrated stars singing about the gloom in the world.

Any reasonable parent would think this kind of music was a bad influence, but these skateboard-clad youths seemed invigorated by the tunes, seemingly relating to the struggles of constantly working, especially given their young ages. The CRT would begin to bounce and air-guitar to the swing of the song, enjoying this simple moment that brought fun and nostalgia to such a dreary place. Many of the tired adults would pass their commotion with a simple irritated gaze, but out of all the noise they could have been making, this was more tolerable.

”ROCK ON!” Tenna exclaimed excitedly as the show came to an end, the punk-like youths clapping excitedly. A comical tear would dropppppp slowly off of Tenna’s cheek as he enjoyed his moment of recognition. He bowed rapidly as a valley of roses appeared seemingly out of thin air for dramatic effect, disappearing out of reality just as quickly when they hit the floor.

Noticing Sectonia amongst the group of street goers, Tenna pointed dramatically at her, recognizing her as one of the Seekers’ members. ”My flying friend! We haven’t been properly acquainted~”. His tone was exaggeratedly friendly as he began stepping toward her. The Ventikids behind him seemed to wait for his return, though Tenna didn’t necessarily mean to go back after talking with Sectonia.

From what Sectonia saw, he was a bit of a goof. Well, a bit was a stretch. He WAS a goof. Now the question… was he a jester or another ‘king koopa’? If it was the former, he was dressed too well for being a jester, but the latter, he didn’t seem to have the… ambition for? Well, he seemed harmless for now. Perhaps the fact that he had a TV for a head signified he was just an entertainer, which was what Sectonia would prefer. She didn’t want to have to deal with another royal in the group to compete with.

”Yes… You seemed to join our little convoy just after that horrid zoo. I’m Queen Sectonia, ruler of Floralia, and eventually this whole World of Light and you?” Sectonia already knew his name was Tenna, but decided to let the strange man introduce himself out of politeness.

Tenna seemed thrilled to have another introduction to properly introduce himself to another member of the Seekers who had been tagging along with the rest of the group. Hearing the insectoid member introduce herself as queen changed Tenna’s tone to fit as more tame, and befitting in the presence of “royalty”. Tenna made sure to control the limbs of his tailcoat as he gracefully (and rather boisterously) introduced himself. “Mr. Ant-Tenna, Ma'am! People usually just call me Tenna, though! Here! Have a plushie of my likeness!”

Suddenly, the erratically tempered TV man would drop a very cheaply fashioned toy of his likeness into Sectonia’s claws, almost immediately after he pointed back at the impatient youth behind him. “Some laborer kids. I may be a tad foolish sometimes, but I’m not stupid…”

He brushed her comment off about the World of Light and how she wished to conquer it. It was pretty clear that he was still ravaged by Galeem’s influence. While his lack of eyes made it difficult to see the red distinction in them, his ignorance of Sectonia’s introduction spoke volumes to this.

”I see… And what do you do? Some kind of entertainer? Or salesman? Or a diplomat?” Sectonia said, holding the strange plush of Tenna’s, the plush being kind of small for her hands, and examining it. With how he answered, Sectonia had to take a closer look at his ‘face’ to see the red eyes. Well… She’d have to cure that if she found she liked this one. Otherwise, she’d probably have to get Blazermate or another to do it.

It seemed the enjoyment for the Ventikids had reached an anticlimactic end, as they disappointedly realized that Tenna was not returning to entertain them and began dispersing back into their hidey holes around the village's infrastructure. Tenna contemplated what Sectonia had asked him… it would be very difficult to explain that he was a living television set brought to life under the veil of a Dark World. Not to mention her asking if he was a salesman seems to have struck some sort of deep chord.

Yet his optimism lived on! “I can be a lot of things, my insectoid royalty! I’m a screen! I can play GAMES! I host shows! I’m a pretty all-around guy! But if you need something specific to work with, just call me Mr. Everything TV!” With a dramatic point to the sky, Tenna smiled stylishly, though from him it did just sort of come off as awkward showboating. Whether it was charming or annoying was completely at the Seekers’ discretion.

What Tenna was trying to imply, however, was that he doesn’t DO one set of things. His metaphorical skill tree is quite balanced, and based on his interest in fame and attention, was there really any better way to describe him other than TV-ish?

”So an entertainer then. Or perhaps that ‘fixer’ thing Roland yammers on about. ” Sectonia said, mildly amused at Tenna’s flamboyant personality. Well, this was even under the influence of Galeem. If he were free, he might be more entertaining, but first she had to ask another question.

”I’d like to see an example of what you’re talking about. While I’m familiar with TV, referencing yourself as such doesn’t really explain much.” Sectonia said.

The TV-headed oddball would flare the collar on his tailcoat in a pompous and enthusiastic showcase of confidence. As if the lights in the area around him dimmed, his presence was… illuminating against the depressing backdrop. It’s as if all the floodlights brightening the street had angled themselves SPECIFICALLY to hit him. Of course, they weren’t; however, he was just the most colorful compared to everything else.

His screen would display a banner that dazzled with poorly photoshopped horns that played a fanfare. The toot of horns would soon be accompanied by a title reading “Tenna Battle Guide!” in obnoxiously gold font, which would begin to demonstrate the various attacks the CRT was capable of: with a chop of his hands, he could disorient enemies, make laughing stars rain from the sky, and even create electricity from his hands! Overall, he seemed like a well-rounded backline support-type fighter. ”I am entirely capable of traveling with your crew! I just live for the audience!” He turned to acknowledge his group of tech-altered vent laborers who raved at his rock show, who had long since left. ”oh.”

”Hm… Well, be under my service, and I can give you some very strong gifts if you accept. I could always use entertainment.” Sectonia said, giving a small giggle. She appreciated showmanship as long as the person in question also kept themselves looking proper and liked clowns like this.

Tenna would give the insectoid queen a polite bow, seeing this as some form of theatrics to get the Seeker’s recognition on their journey. While his “Servitude” to her was… for show, he would kindly support her in battle with his OWN minions! ”May I be of nostalgic use to you!” Whatever that was supposed to mean.

Sectonia didn’t know what he meant by nostalgic. As far as she knew, TVs were still big in Dreamland. But regardless, with that Sectonia would offer her first gift. She’d make a heart in her hand, and summon her axe in another. With a surprise crystal crash right on top of Tenna, he was hurt enough for a friend heart, which Sectonia promptly delivered. And as Tenna recovered and his eyes cleared, Sectonia said. ”My first gift, Knowledge of the world as it is, not as you thought it was.”

The sudden attack had completely knocked the television set onto his knees, as if whatever Darkner lungs he had the wind completely forced out of him. It was painful. At first, the CRT felt unreasonably angry, seemingly with the intent to attack back at Sectonia for betraying the small amount of trust he had provided her. But before he could even collect himself and even prepare an attack for the queen, a cartoonishly pink heart was absorbed into his being, almost immediately pacifying him from his rogue state.

Despite his lack of eyes, the clarity coming back to Tenna seemed to be overwhelming, his expression still processing what had happened. He was no star. He was alone.

”Robert…?” Captain Falcon was confused for a moment at Terry’s question. And then it suddenly hit him. He meant Robert Garcia, the fighter whose spirit the Captain had won from the Orb Machine all the way back in Carnival Town. Evidently the bruiser knew him, likely because they came from the same world. And that was when Falcon also realized that this was going to be a little hard to explain. But for Terry’s sake, he had to do it as best as he could.

”So you know him?” Cap followed up his question. ”Well, to answer your question…” The bounty hunter paused, wanting to make sure he chose his words carefully and phrased what he was about to say in the least confusing way that he could. ”...I’ve fused with his spirit.” Cap already knew this was going to require further elucidation. And so he didn’t even wait for a response before he continued speaking.

”In this world, when we die, we leave behind a spirit.” Cap said, taking a breath to prepare himself for what was going to be a fairly lengthy explanation. ”They look like spheres, grapefruit sized, and they bear our image inside of them. When you collect a spirit, you can do one of three things with them - Fuse, Spiritbind, or Crush. If you crush a spirit, it will turn into an item or set of items usually associated with the identity of the spirit in question. Spiritbinding is a process where you have a brief word with the spirit, and they become something called a Striker that you can then summon to help you in fights. But you’re only allowed to have two Strikers at a time for reasons I’ll explain later.”

Captain Falcon continued, ”Fusion is exactly what it sounds like. You essentially consume the spirit by pressing it to your head or hugging it against your chest. The former option lets you learn a skill from that spirit and then your outfit changes color to reflect the fusion. The latter option lets you learn one of that spirit’s powers, and will also change your bodily appearance to reflect the spirit you’ve fused with. From then on you can start learning and mastering other skills and powers from that spirit the more you fight and train. That’s why I know Robert’s techniques - because I fused with his spirit about a week ago and have been fighting with his skills alongside my own ever since then.”

Now for the tough part. ”And something else you should know, Terry. Our time in this world is… limited. None of us can last longer than 10 years maximum before we’re… I guess ‘reset’ by the system Galeem created and reappear in its world, Galeeming once again. That’s why Pit knew you when we first got here. There was a… previous version of you that he met before who died. And you are the resulting next iteration of Terry Bogard in this world. So even though I have no doubt that Robert Garcia is around in Esaka somewhere, the spirit of him I fused with was very likely a previous incarnation of him in this twisted system that Galeem created. And that brings me back to Strikers. You’re technically allowed to have as many active as you want, but it’s not recommended. Anymore than two will shave years off your overall 10 year limit, essentially shortening your lifespan in the World of Light.”

Cap took a deep breath, his explanation now more or less complete. ”I get that this is a lot of information to process. So it’s okay if it takes time for it all to set in and start making sense. It’s a process all of us had to go through when we were de-storied and freed from Galeem’s control.” But the Captain offered a small smile and thumbs up, ”But not to worry. I’ll keep showing you the ropes about Spirits as we go along. I’ve got your back, buddy.”

Now that she’d gotten some of her buried stress off her chest, Nadia looked forward to taking the rest of the night easy. She’d need all her energy to dive headfirst into Pools tomorrow, and begin her long, dangerous climb to the top of Esaka’s deadliest tournament series. To that end she happily let Primrose lead her further around the Mid Tier and to a particular cantina, with more security than one might expect given the humble appearance of its exterior. When the ladies approached, Nadia’s first instinct was to start looking for alternate methods of ingress. The storied cat burglar scanned for windows, balconies, possible back doors, even sewer grates, any means of circumventing the guard.

Of course, Primrose had other plans. She simply waltzed right up with an irresistible smile on and a swing in her hips. Nadia just followed along dumbly, smiling like an idiot, and gave the bouncer a confident wink when he complimented her. And just like that, the two were admitted inside. “Crazy,” Nadia muttered with a laugh, shaking her head in astonishment. “To me, that kinda stuff might as well be black magic. Good thing you were here to help meowt!”

The two sauntered inside as if they belonged there, followed by their canine friend. Remembering that fancy ladies sometimes carried tiny pups in their purses, Nadia scooped the little guy up to be her lapdog, which naturally meant lavish attention and first dibs on hors d'oeuvres. She wasn’t quite sure what sort of establishment this place really was until the two reached the main room and she could take everything in. One glimpse at the potent combination of bars, smoky backrooms, and battle arenas convinced her that she was in for a good time. “Oh, man. I love this place already~”

Together the three found themselves a table in a secluded corner that gave them a good view of the dance floor, as it was. Unlike in Fengjian Teahouse, Nadia had no intentions of taking center stage herself. Whether she was in for music or mayhem, she wanted nothing more than to watch. She almost requested a cheap cerveza before remembering that she was loaded now, at which point she promptly placed an order for the biggest, fanciest mixed drink on the menu. Drunk with power, Nadia ordered Clams Diablo (with spicy romano tomato sauce plus chorizo) and Portabella España (seafood stuffed mushrooms) also. Naturally, she offered to pay for whatever Primrose wanted, as well.

To Nadia’s knowledge, Primrose was planning to perform or something, but life in Esaka was nothing if not predictable. Only a few minutes after the Seekers’ arrival, guests began to pour into the place, quickly filling up every seat in the house. Nadia got the impression that something interesting was about to happen, and the cantina did not disappoint.

The flamenco dancers moved to the back of the stage to admit a peppy young woman in green, orange, and white, who held a microphone in her hand. “Olá, senhoras e senhores! Welcome one and all to the exhibition match you’ve all been waiting for! A best-of-ten tag-team slobberknocker between some of the fiercest fighters to ever grace this stage. Without further ado, please give a warm welcome to the challengers, representing Mexico, Pepe Rodriguez and the King. Of. Dinosaurs!”

A storm of claps and cheers heralded the arrival of an enormous reptilian luchador and a somehow even more shirtless dude in flowing white pants, the former with much more braggadocious aplomb and the latter with natural confidence.

“And representing España, our home team: Franco Gerelt and Miguel Caballero Roja!”

On the other side of the arena, two well-dressed men emerged: one a mustached, rapier-wielding man in red and the other a roguish, frizzy-haired ruffian, one the pinnacle of elegant machismo and the other full of devil-may-care swagger. ”Oh, this is good,” Nadia said with a grin. As the two teams approached one another, a waitress appeared to drop off Nadia’s drink: an entire hollowed-out watermelon filled with a deep red mix of watermelon pulp and wine to form an extravagant sangria. The catgirl stared at it in stunned silence, then gave Primrose a pleading look. “You’re gonna have to help me with this.”

The next second, a huge cage dropped down out of the ceiling and trapped all four fighters in the arena, to uproarious applause. Nadia couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, THIS is GOOD!” One way or another, it was going to be a wild night.

---

After their training session came to an end, the two detectives set out together with no particular destination in mind, just a vague idea of wanting to grab dinner somewhere. It was quarter past seven, with sunset on the way, and in the wake of the furious but brief rainstorm the populace of Esaka reemerged to reclaim their evening. Having been consigned to drenched takeout from whatever bistro might be nearest to Banishing Flats on account of rain, Band had a mind to wander and see as much more of the city as the fading daylight would allow. In the spirit of trying something new he suggested to Zenkichi that they head up to the one tier they hadn’t visited so far, the High Tier, and get a little taste of life in the fast lane. Of course, Band was well aware that his leftover performance earnings wouldn’t land him a spot in any sit-down restaurant up there, but any city of that caliber was bound to have street food, and in Band’s book, that’s where the best stuff was.



About half an hour later, the two reached one of the more densely urban sections of High Tier, which for all intents and purposes resembled a normal city street. Band could see upscale clothing, shoe, and hat stores called Button Check, Flash Kicks, and Universal Overheads respectively. He spotted Tap Dust, a brewery, as well as Smith Coffee, Polar Star Coffee, and Ortiz Coffee–this place seemed to be a caffeine addict’s paradise. Energetic music blared out from clubs like Deadly Rave, and giant screens hanging from buildings displayed fighter ads amidst updates from Directional Influence, the news station based here in High Tier.

Band tried to keep his focus on the street and away from all the visual stimuli, but he did pause to watch one fighter ad when he realized it was for a prominent Tekken competitor. It showcased a burly biker with a very distinctive tall, blonde flattop, and he seemed to pack one hell of a punch. One highlight played from a recent Tekken semifinal match of him absolutely demolishing his opponent with the Death Fist, a full-body right straight punch. There wasn’t a high probability of Band running into this Paul Phoenix in tournament, but he committed the move to memory anyway.

By eight o’clock, the detectives joined the short line for Meaties, a food truck that seemed to serve as a mobile delicatessen, offering all sorts of savory chicken, pork, and beef. Band went for a classic hot dog with the basic condiments of ketchup, mustard, and relish, even though the truck offered all kinds of topics from onions to chili to cheese. Even so, the size of the frankfurter alone made it a decent meal, just the kind that Band would often get on the job back when he was a detective. As he and Zenkichi walked along with their food, they alternated chewing and talking, mostly about work. This was the point where Band, unfortunately, had to disabuse his new acquaintance of an idea he himself had installed.

“Well…truth is, while I call myself a detective and still look the part, I ain’t technically a detective anymore.” He took a big bite out of his hot dog, dabbled at his lips with a napkin held by mechanical pincers, then shrugged as he swallowed. “Y’see, me and the boys didn’t always see eye to eye. Most of ‘em were just in it for the money, and not just the pennies we got paid, if you catch my drift.” His expression darkened as he pursed his lips ruefully. “No, those boys were on the take. Why rake in pennies for doin’ your job when you could make big bucks not doin’ it? Me, though? I still clung to silly ideas like ‘truth’ and ‘justice’--y’know, old-fashioned crap like that. One day, after I caught wind of some nasty double-dealin’ and dropped a couple hints to the boss, the boys found out and gave me an early retirement.”

He deployed an arm and patted his huge, bell-shaped chassis. The brass reflected the last rays of the sun as they sank below the horizon. “Iron lung. My broken body woulda spent the rest of its days rottin’ away in a hospital bed if ASG didn’t get a hold of me. They built me into the man I am today. Ever since then, I been somethin’ between a vigilante and a monster hunter. Workin’ against the Skullgirl was my day job; fightin’ crime ended up bein’ more of a hobby.” After finishing his hot dog, Band let out a sign of resignation. “Guess I got a hard time lettin’ go. Those weren’t my glory days by any means, but that stuff’s what I’m meant to do.”

He chuckled. Around him, the street lamps, screens, and other lights meant that it was still almost as bright as day even now that night had fallen. “And now here we are. Fixin’ to go and fight like gladiators in order to save the world.” Band raised an eyebrow at Zenkichi. “So, how’d you wind up here, slick?”



Although Gründachdorf turned out to have a surprising amount of hidden depth, with a lot more going on than its quaint, medieval appearance might suggest, it wasn’t long before the Seekers had to hit the road. They had a lot more ground to cover before they reached their real destination of Moon Mountain, after all, and with no need for rest or new supplies just yet they couldn’t afford to spend any more time in a place like this than absolutely necessary.

Plus, a new landmark had revealed itself from the Highlands’ dark fog that invariably drew the travellers’ gaze: the space elevator of Spire 04, a technological pillar that connected earth and sky, a feat of engineering so marvelous that looped right back around to being fantastical. It sat in the middle of a sprawling complex whose true size was difficult to estimate even for Sandalphon, but she judged it at least as big as Krat Zoo, if not larger. When the Midnight Walk began to veer in that direction, her suspicions about the team’s next destination were confirmed.

Of course, the Seekers could probably find a way around, but going off-road in the Frozen Highlands would be treacherous, if not downright dangerous. Their brief departure from the Midnight Walk on the road to the village had proven as much when the detour -which had lasted only a couple minutes tops- claimed one of the wagon’s eight wheels. While such a loss would have stopped the average carriage cold, the Seekers’ still-unnamed stagecoach had been able to keep rolling thanks to its eight-wheeled structure. It could only take so much, though, and how much depended on which wheels went next. At best, their ride could stand to lose three more wheels before it could no longer move; at worst, it would only take one unlucky loss before it became inoperable. Part of Sandalphon had wanted to insist on immediate repairs back at Gründachdorf, but she tried to temper her compulsive behavior, reasoning that it would have been an overreaction. Still, she couldn’t help but worry as the stagecoach rattled ceaselessly onward, the music of its windchime and the yells of the ratshaker rat all but drowned out by the howling winter wind.

It was relatively comfortable inside the vehicle, at least, and Sandalphon didn’t want for company. The two new passengers who’d agreed to accompany them to Spire 04 from Gründachdorf intrigued her for a couple reasons, so rather than bury herself in Markiona’s research material again, the archangel took the chance to ask one of the questions on her mind. “Adam and Eve,” she said aloud, getting the pair’s attention. “Curious names that often seem to be paired together. Some time ago, two brothers with those names attacked a city called Midgar. They were machines that styled themselves after men, and chose those names for themselves. Perhaps you know their significance?”

Eve gave Adam a bemused look, while the latter only shrugged. She then turned back toward Sandalphon with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’m afraid I have no idea of the names’ meaning or significance. Strange that they would seem to come as a pair. Adam and I met only a short time ago. We are little more than strangers.”

“After I saved you from the Alpha Naytiba? Oh, that’s cold,” Adam joked, his rather flat voice making his feigned indignity rather unconvincing.

In short order Sandalphon realized that Eve actually knew very little about the world itself, and while Adam seemed more worldly, he seemed less forthcoming and more inclined to deflect. Not wanting to try and dig deeper, Sandalphon thanked the two for their time and settled in for the ride, her attention turned back toward her research.



As the stagecoach progressed into a new area, it quickly became apparent to Heismay -perched atop the roof near the driver as usual- that this would be the toughest stretch of the journey so far. The Midnight Walk took the Seekers around the edge of a large lake that Heismay thought must be saltwater to explain why it wasn’t frozen, he couldn’t see any body of water that might connect it to the ocean through the fog. He could see, though, that the route ahead led through a strange sort of subarctic swamp. It featured large stretches of shallow, icy water, only about a foot deep, carved up by tall, sheer plateaus of rock like islands in the sea, some crowned by frost-wreathed willows or wind-scoured shipwrecks. Farther away from the lakeshore, the knee-deep pools gave way to patches of snow, though these were similarly fenced in by miniature mountain ranges.

Though not quite cramped or confined enough to be a labyrinth, this gelid marsh promised to be difficult to navigate for the stagecoach. As it followed the Midnight Walk toward the water’s edge, Heismay shook the snow off his parka and limbered himself up for action. “I’ll scout ahead,” he declared. “This place may very well harbor all manner of hidden hazards.” Of course, he wouldn’t be wading through the water. Even if he wasn’t much shorter than the average Seeker, that water would ruin his winter clothes and afflict him with hypothermia within moments. For those who couldn’t fly, or ride atop the stagecoach, it would be necessary to take shelter inside it. At least the Reindrix didn’t seem to mind the cold at all.

After gathering his strength, the eugief jumped from the roof of the moving vehicle and landed in the snow next to the Midnight Walk, light enough on his feet that he didn’t even need to roll. He made for the nearest rock spire and scaled it with a series of jumps, attaining enough altitude that he could then jump off and glide over a stretch of swamp to the nearest rocky outcrop. It took only a few seconds to scale it with a series of deft jumps, at which point he paused for a moment to get his bearings. Then he made for the next island, a larger one with a shipwreck on it. It still had enough rigging that climbing across it was both easy and fun; the buildings of Gründachdorf had been a good warm-up for this. Once Heismay reached the crowsnest, he stood atop it like a daredevil buccaneer and surveyed the landscape to see what it had in store for the stagecoach now forging through the icy water.

Thanks to his sharp eyes, Heismay quickly realized just how treacherous this place actually was. The area’s naturally-occurring walls meant that there were several routes available that the stagecoach could take, but one looked just about as bad as the next; Edward and the others would need to make some difficult decisions, and fast.

First up, there were three routes to choose from. The leftmost one led up out of the water and through a confined snowfield, but Heismay could see a horned, shaggy behemoth digging into the half-dissolved corpse of a purple theropod it had slain, while the dinosaur’s pack of raptors yapped at the killer from a safe distance. From that snowy clearing, one could veer northwest into a rocky area with what looked like veins of ore, or descend into the yawning maw of a dark cave. Even Heismay couldn’t peer down there, so there was no telling what might await the Seekers if they went that way–or if there was even another way out.

In the middle route, he could see the unusual shipwreck of a yellow boat, very dissimilar in appearance from the other, more normal-looking wooden ones scattered around. To the left, nearest the lake, he couldn’t find any visible threats but the water churned in a way that he did not like. Both it and the shipwreck route led to a more lush seaside area where two strange, yellow and purple fish monsters lay in wait for prey. He did see one narrow side-path that seemed to suggest that one could maneuver from the shipwreck toward the ore veins, but the ways both toward the former and away from the latter were marked by strips of otherworldly black-and-blue flame beneath the water, which smoldered in a most detestable, unwholesome fashion.

Farther in, he could see the glint of fish scales in an unusually large open area of the swamp, and just to the west stood a grove of dead-looking trees that somehow bore plump orange fruits. A bigger, thicker copse of pine trees stood in the snowfield directly north, but a glimpse at a hulking, horned herbivore gave Heismay pause. The other route toward the end of the swamp, which looped around toward the east, looked relatively clear. Its proximity to the lake, though, conjured images in Heismay’s mind of massive sea monsters emerging from the depths to try and drag the stagecoach to a watery grave. With a heavy sigh, the eugief hurried back toward the others to report his findings.