Terry gave an ear, as Yayama recalled everything that she saw in that moment, a comforting hand still lingering on her shoulder. He couldn’t believe it. Everything that she told him—the trauma, the fright, the losses, the destruction of the world she once knew and gave her life for—closely mirrored most of the events he’d gone through up to his inclusion to the World of Light. It was both eerie and reassuring in a way. At least, now he knew that what he told the grieving knight was true. Both of them were never alone.

“Oh, Gosh… That’s… horrible. I– I’m sorry,” he told Yayama, pensively lowering his gaze. His sky-blue eyes fell upon his soiled sneakers, tears of the gloomy rain clouds cascading out of his cap’s brim. “’Least you tried, y’know. You’d done your best, despite the outcome. Back in my previous life, I… couldn’t even bother. Well, at least, at first. When Geese, Krauser, and Laocorn were dealt with, all I cared for was seeking the thrill of the bout, thinking that each and every global threat happening from one KOF tourney to another had been taken care of, with or without me. I thought, as long as South Town was safe, I shouldn’t think too deeply into matters that I had no business takin’ care of. But then…” His voice stifled, lips clenching firmly. He drew the evening’s cold air again, taking a moment to toughen himself up for what he was about to reveal to her next. “Some shady syndicate called NESTS held a KOF tournament in South Town, and then… the unthinkable happened. They blew the entire city, leaving it completely devastated. It was the greatest tragedy in our city, and despite my efforts, I didn’t get to save everyone. Took us about three years to rebuild the city from scratch, and just when things were about to get better for all of us, our enemies collaborated. They set us up, killed every single one of us till… I was the only fighter left battling alone. They singlehandedly destroyed our world that day. Then came Galeem, the World of Light was made, and… South Town was no more. And just a couple of years into my second life, the people I loved were… taken away from me one by one, vanishing into thin air just like that. I’ve never quite forgiven myself for all that happened.”

As they talked, one particular name caught the blonde’s attention. Not that he knew who she was, frankly, but the fact that the lalafell kept bringing that name into their conversation. He thought Petra must’ve been somebody who meant the world to Yayama—whether a relative, a close friend, or even a significant other. She seemed to regard her quite highly when she started recalling all the past events that led her to this world, most particularly Esaka. The way she described their relationship, it was obvious that she had a deep emotional connection with the fellow warrior of her world—the same kind of emotional connection that he developed with Lily, Sulia, and finally, Mary.

“Hey, you seem to have fond memories of this Petra fella you’ve been talking about, despite, y’know, all the traumatic events that you both had gone through,” Terry remarked, tilting his head to the side. Abruptly, the memories of his significant others came flooding into his head, especially ones that he made with his first love. “Now, I dunno whether she was your sister or close bud or girlfriend, but if she was the latter, then, welp, I just wanna say that… I can relate. Perfectly, actually. I’ve been in a relationship with three different girls on separate occasions, though neither of them ended up the way we intended. Not that we’d never gotten to make it work, frankly, it’s just that… tragedy had always found its way to all the girls I loved one way or another. It broke me the hardest when the worst happened to my first love…”

Then, as he went ahead, the brawny blonde reached the back pocket of his jeans, then pulled something out of it, revealing a shriveled picture of a charming, verdant-haired lady he’d kept for dozens of years.




“Her name was Lily. Lily McGuire,” he introduced to Yayama. “She was my heart, my first love, and the girl of my dreams. It’d been long since the night I lost her, but sometimes, I found it hard to bring myself to just… move on and keep goin’. Y’know, normally, when you lose somebody you hold the closest to your heart, everyone will just tell you to move on and let the past stay in the past. ‘That’s what she’d want,’ they said, ‘you don’t wanna make her feel bad up there.’ And just hearing all that shit, I can’t help but… smile, y’know. Smile because why’d I wanna forget the woman who brought so much joy to my life, anyway? She’s the woman who taught me how to love, taught me to show compassion and look after the little ones. But most importantly…” He stifled his mouth, failing to fight back the tears that’d started to well the moment he stumbled upon Yayama. He sniffed, then wiped them out of the corners of his eyes. “She’s… the woman who sacrificed her life just so my friends and I are safe. Still to this day, I can’t ever shake the guilt of not being able to save my sweetheart from Geese. We’re talkin’ about me, the same multi-time KOF champ who can punch through a wall and beat a friggin’ fire god with bare hands, yet… I couldn’t make it in time to prevent her from falling head first to the ground.”

His face dropped, his voice lowering until it trailed off. Whenever he talked about Lily or any of his lovers, he couldn’t help but feel… blue, inwardly blaming himself for being incapable of saving them. It was true that there were still hopes for Mary, but even then, seeing that Rugal might’ve been involved, he wasn’t too sure if he’d be able to find his darling in one piece. It’d been a whole year, after all. She’d never kept in touch with him like she’d promised him since the moment she went to investigate their friends’ whereabouts.

Truly, this new, complicated world had roughed Terry up, now that he thought about it. And just when the thread was finally unraveled, he’d found himself—yet again—overwhelmed by the additional elaboration that Cap gave him earlier at the Banishing Flats. Even now, it still baffled him that each and everyone of them was only given a decade left to live—no matter if they were deities or mere mortals like him. Even worse, knowing that they were only mere clones of one another, and when one of them died, they’d either be replaced or have their spirits claimed like the Robert before the Robert of the present day. While the brawny blonde had no fear of getting replaced by a better, stronger successor, he didn’t seem to entertain the notion that his clones were nothing but mere pawns that Galeem could toy with, given that they’d still have their memories suppressed. It couldn’t help when, according to Cap, there was a Terry that came before him who died for reasons he was yet to learn. Perhaps, even death adored him just as much as it did the women of his life.

“Life’s cruel, don’t you think? I gotta admit, sometimes, I even thought of quitting when the going got a little too tough, but hey, we can’t just give up, can we? Not when the whole world’s countin’ on us,” Terry encouraged, a smile finally playing by his lips. “We’re champs, bud. The Seekers of Light. And as long as Galeem’s still here, we better continue fighting, or else, we’re losin’ more than we already did. Dunno how long you’ve been stayin’ here in Esaka, though. Bet you’ve heard lots of peeps in higher tiers telling you that they see no prob in the system at all, but trust me, it’s always been anything but fair. The tier system’s just… depressing. I feel especially sad for all the guys back in the Low Tier. I thought they deserved better than living in shabby places and being treated like garbage. So, yeah, cheer up, alright? We’re never too late to start a big change! It ain’t just about us, but about them, too.”

After all, when Terry began his journey before the merging of the worlds, he acted as a figure who—directly or indirectly—fought against the system. By defeating Geese, he’d also fought the corruption that’d been plaguing South Town since its inception, making it a better place for all its residents to live in. If he had to do it again with Rugal just to bring changes to Esaka, then so be it. Despite the consequences, he knew it was worth the try, eventually.

When the lalafell finally introduced herself to him, Terry pushed his bandaged hand away from her shoulder, offering a handshake. “Okay, nice knowin’ you, Yayama! Or should I call you ‘Yaya’?” he asked, giggling. He always had a tendency to shorten somebody’s name. “Aww, sick! That’s a badass nickname you got there! You’ve probably heard it already, but the name’s Terry. Terry Bogard. I’m nothin’ much, really, despite the nicknames. Just a silly goober and a fighter next door.” He shrugged, his voice lacking hints of irony. “And don’t feel bad about crackin’ out a bit. I’ve probably done it worse. It ain’t so good to hold emotions like that for too long, y’know.”

At long last, the rain came to a halt, paving way for the setting sun to reappear among the reddish clouds. It was such an eye-catching view now that he looked at it—both uplifting and awespiring, even. Simple things like this always reminded Terry that—despite his hardships—there’ll always be a better tomorrow waiting for him. While he mused and admired the view, suddenly, an idea came to his mind. The brawny blonde glanced back at Yayama, all while picking his dampened cap and squeezing the liquid out of it.

“Y’know, I was thinking, since you ain’t feelin’ so well, want me to treat you to dinner?” he offered, then sported his cap back around his golden head, prior raindrops still seeping through its crimson fabric. “That’s the best way I can think of to maybe make my new pal feel a bit better. I know the best places around here where we can just relax, hang out, and eat. And who knows? Maybe along the way, we can train together for our respective tournaments tomorrow. Whaddaya say, Yaya?”

FIN.

Upon being warned of the ice swamp, Edward parked them at its edge, giving Heismay time to do his scouting, allowing people to mount or un-mount as they pleased, and giving himself time to rearrange his forces a bit. The inferno hounds would simply be extinguished by the icy waters, and so he swapped them out for a pair of bronze golems. With reports of giant monsters on the prowl, they’d be far more suited for the threats they’d be facing regardless.

He still kept a scout squad on hand, having them skim a little ways ahead of the stagecoach as they began to move again, meaning it was the first thing to approach the strange lines of fire which Edward thought they could probably cross without harm. The scout seemed to indicate as much, as though the wall did surge up into a huge blaze of black and blue flame as it approached, the little fragile machines detected no heat, and promptly passed through the barrier without a scratch.

”A ruse, it seems, not a real hazard” Edward declared it, and so pressed on.

The bronze golems, sent ahead to doubly tested the barrier, also passed through unharmed, and technically so too did the stage coach. The same could not be said about their spirits, as the flames induced a deep feeling of discomfort, not to mention horror and anxiety.

As a result, the feeling was joined by a physical jolt as they practically burst out the other side, the Reindrix surging forwards in response to this feeling, unsurprisingly wanting to get out of it as soon as they could, and unable, due to their harnessing, to do this in any way but rushing forward.

He managed to get control of them soon enough, but the man’s confidence certainly was shaken, even as he insisted that ”All part of the illusion. Nothing more.”

Despite this, he mentally decided to not pass through the other zone his scout drone had found on the other side of the ore, which meant they’d have to deal with the ambush sooner or later.

Past the barrier of loathing, they found the ship Heismay had reported, which did indeed seem out of place when compared to the wooden vessels found up on the cliffs. It could have been a new addition, but given that it was stuck in the middle of a swamp rather than washed up on shore, Edward wasn’t so sure.

A small number of Jellroys and Jelliettes made the icy wreck their home, but the sight of the stagecoach made the weak pals seek shelter in the water or cliffs around it, rather than come to put up any sort of fight.

”Would anyone be willing to try to get a sample of one of those creatures? They might have some features of merit” Edward asked as they ran. Cowardly though they might have been, he wasn’t going to dismiss their usefulness simply because they had the smarts not to pick a fight with an overwhelming force.

However, of possible higher value was the ship itself. Beached on a rocky outcrop, it looked relatively intact, and only slightly rusted, which Edward thought might mean its insides might contain salvage that hadn’t been taken by the elements yet.

Rust had sealed shut the ship’s hatch, but it was nothing a bit of leverage couldn’t solve. Said leverage was applied when Edward commanded one of the bronze golem squads to spike in their helbards and heave till the door cracked open with a crash of metal.

Within the frost filled ship, there was no sign of any crew, living or dead. Edward did find a ship’s manifest while picking his way though the cabin however, indicating that the ship had been hauling supplies for a seafood restaurant.

Hoping that the cold might have preserved those supplies, he headed down into the hold to see if the case. As he did, however, the air began to tingle with static electricity, prompting the Dreadnaught to draw his magelock pistol and warscyth as he carefully edged down the stairs.

Then he stopped, recalled his scout drone squad, and sent it in first. A fine plan, except for the fact that the drones were weak to electricity, and promptly shorted out moments after rounding the corner, though not before Edward got a fuzzy vision of dozens of eyes staring its way.

With there being nothing for it, the Dreadnaught put himself in the line of fire, sliding round the corner, magelock pistol raise, and found himself face to… eyeballs with a shoal of diminutive
Puyomon that looked at him with undiscernible expressions.

Small spiky clawed tentacles attached them to handles of various cooler boxes as they floated above them, static electricity humming between them.

But just static electricity, nothing more nothing less.

A lack of sudden movements from the floating eyeballs made Edward lower his weapons, only to tense up again as one of the Puyomon detached and started to slowly float over, extending its grabber his way.

Very slowly.

So slowly that the warlord’s response was to wave the blunt end of the scythe at it and tell it to ”Shoo”. This, however, did not work. Instead it grabbed onto and held onto the shaft of the war scythe, causing a slight tingly current to run through the weapon (but again nothing else) before making amused noises as he tried to lightly shake it off.

It kept holding on even as Edward backed out the cargo hold only to seemingly grow bored by the time he got outside, at which point it floated off to go grab onto someone or something else.

Edward watched it go with a hand on his hip, before sighing, mentally burying down the little bit of him that wanted to solve the static field problem by just shooting all the harmless things, and got to work ushering the rest of the Puyomon out of the cargohold as well.

Hopefully with some help.

At least one was more than happy to get poked for samples during this process.

Once the room had been cleared, and the lingering static electricity removed from metal surfaces in a few biting shocks, Edward cracked open one of the frozen over coolers. Inside he found exactly what had been listed on the manifest: Varying amounts of black vinegar, curry blocks, eggs, garlic, kajime, miso sauce, olive oil, sea grapes, soy sauce, and turmeric.

All in all, quite the find, and all perfectly preserved too.

He hoped the Avengers kitchen had storage space for it all. That, and something to actually prepare using all the sides and seasoning they’d be getting, otherwise they’d be eating very flavorful garlic and seaweed omelets tonight

One cooler was kept for the white team however, the contents of which would definitely liven up the next stew.

After everyone who’d helped out, or had gone squid hunting, was aboard (and also after Edward had given up trying to shoo off some lingering Puyomon who’d attached themselves to the stage coach) they got on their way again, heading for the fork in the road that would lead either to the the ore spotted outcrop or to the place where two big beasts were waiting in ambush.

There, he parked once again. Those that wanted to head off to do some mining were free to do so, while Edward suggested they form a party to trigger the ambush spotted up ahead while the stagecoach itself was safely out of range.

To get there, the man himself flapped his wings a few times and got himself up onto the shoulders of one of his Bronze golems. With one hand holding its weapon for support, and the other his magelock pistol, he had it trudge forwards through the icy waters.

Once the party got in range, the two Somnacanth lunged out of the water as predicted, but rather than lunge at someone, they instead kept their distance as they swept their necks in long sweeps, spraying sprayed sleeping powder over the party in the process.

Edward’s golems were unaffected, naturally, but so too was the man himself, as a barrier with a mirror like sheen flared around him, reflecting the debuffs back at the two monsters. Said monsters promptly flopped to the ground, hoisted by their own petards. Odds were, it would not be a deep sleep, and so the seekers would need to tread carefully around them lest they wake them once more.

”I don’t expect we’ll be able to get the stage coach past even with them sleeping” Edward whispered (after having the other golem squad poke anyone who’d been knocked out back away) before asking ”So, who wants to take point in waking them back up?”

She listened quietly as Terry took his turn talking about his losses over the years. It was hard to truly relate to Yayama unless you'd been through the same events as her - that was part of why Petra's absence cut so deeply - but it seemed the two of them had a fair amount in common. "I won't turn down free food, I suppose." She would, however, meticulously check it for poison, but she was well enough to know that it was a paranoia and not a particularly reasonable concern. "You know, you remind me a bit of Petra. Obviously, you aren't an absolutely gorgeous Auri woman or a foreign princess, but you've got a similar attitude." She mentally glossed over the part where she continued to use present tense. But don't worry, I'm thinking about it.

"Petra infected me with it, you know. Always looking for somewhere to stick her nose, help the helpless, be the strong protecting the weak, that sort of thing." She laughed, mostly at herself. "Well, I suppose I can't really blame her entirely. She did, at least, ruin a perfectly good Flame Captain for continuing to run a squadron. I don't think I could ever go back to the Flames, not for real, after all this. Not that it's a bad thing. This World of Light seems like it could use a Warrior of Darkness right about now." Yayama sighed. "But, that's for later. For now, you promised me food, and an Ul'dahn never forgets a promise involving coin."

As the pair wandered the High Tier, Zenkichi couldn’t help but be reminded of Tokyo and Kyoto. The blend of Japanese aesthetic and more modern styles was exactly what he remembered from the cities, and it helped him feel just a little more at home, though that was a strange feeling mixed with a tinge of melancholy as well. When they finally came upon a food truck (something the pair could both afford in the ritzy High Tier), they stopped to get some grub.

As Band picked a hot dog, classic American fare, Zenkichi went for more familiar chicken skewers. While they weren’t quite Yakitori, they still hit the detective with the same kind of nostalgia that he’d been feeling all day. Things like this, lean meats with a nice sauce to build their flavor profile, were a godsend when he was out all day and didn’t have time to sit down at a restaurant. When Band mentioned that he wasn’t technically a detective anymore and began explaining his story. How he became a cyborg, why he was a hero. Swallowing the last piece from one of his skewers and tossing the stick into a nearby trash can, Zenkichi told his own tale.

”Huh, we’re not too different, then. I mean, I didn’t get…basically killed by my fellow cops, and to be fair, they were literally brainwashed, but I got the absolute crap kicked out of me for standing up for the kids. Uh, the Phantom Thieves. Joker, Skull, Panther, Queen, them. They were the prime suspects in a wave of Change of Heart cases, a sort of…you could call it a brainwashing-induced mental breakdown, that had been sweeping across the country. They were a vigilante group that helped take down a corrupt politician not long before that, and Public Security figured they’d finally turned their powers to evil, not that they had any idea how they were doing it.”

”But I wasn’t convinced. I was ordered to tail them, but I cut a deal with Joker instead: they work with me to find whoever or whatever was behind this new wave, and I’d protect them from the people looking to arrest them. I, uh…ended up biting off more than I could chew. Orders came down from on high and they sent a tactical team to arrest them. I warned them in time for them to run, but…police in Japan aren’t known for being kind to criminals. And since I’d just helped some get away…yeah.” He sighed at the memory before shaking his head.

”But, to try to make a long story short, they ended up helping me uncover a pretty big conspiracy, and it went a lot further than just the brainwashing case. You see, my wife was killed in a drunk driving accident a few years before all this…and the driver was an influential politician. He covered up her death and threatened my daughter’s life if I kept looking into it. So, I stopped. I buried my head in the sand and convinced myself that I was doing the right thing in protecting her.” The shame on Zenkichi’s face was painfully evident, but he didn’t shy away from telling the story.

”Meanwhile, he was working with a technology company to slowly take control of the country, though he was only ever a tool for the real mastermind. That man, Konoe, was planning to brainwash the entire world through the use of a phone app. We ended up fighting him and taking him down. I put him in handcuffs personally. And Galeem, sick sense of humor that he has, put him right in my path again. Only this time, one of the Consuls, C, used some kind of illusion powers when we fought him in Midgar. And we ended up killing him. Konoe wasn’t…he wasn’t evil, not truly. He had a warped sense of justice, and he believed that if he could rid people of evil desires, that he could create a utopia. He didn’t deserve to die. Knowing what we do now, he’s just…going to be stuck in an endless loop of despair. Trapped inside his own mind, his own twisted jail of pain and self-assurance that he knows what’s right, and that only he can make the world a better place.”

Shaking his head, Zenkichi looked around them. ”That’s part of why Galeem bothers me so much, why this place drives me crazy. It robbed everybody of their growth. Their ability to change. Sure, people can still change here, to a degree, but…with just ten years, they get sent right back to the way they were before. When they were taken. And me? I was some weird, screwed-up fusion of how I was before I met the Phantom Thieves, but with power I didn’t deserve. Valjean isn’t just some power-up, it’s a psychic representation of the commitment to justice that I had abandoned before I met the kids. They, and my daughter, helped remind me that seeking justice is dangerous. It’s always going to be, but that’s just the risk that comes with the job. Evil doesn’t stop because we bury our heads in the sand, and just accepting that it’s always going to exist only lets it grow.” He looked up towards the Top Tier, once again looking at the Four Towers, or at least the ones he could see.

”That’s my story. I’m just a guy trying to do the right thing. To make up for all the time I wasted hiding from the painful truth. I got lucky and made some great friends along the way, too.”

Following the small caravan behind the stagecoach that now made up White Team, Ramattra gazed at the beautiful plateaus that made up the frozen pool before him, and the assortment of territories and ominous threats that awaited him. Between leaving Gründachdorf and arriving at the jagged terrain before him that denied any ordinary physics of nature, Ramattra had sat down with the now inconsolable Television set, who introduced himself to the Omnic as “Mr. (ant)Tenna” and explained the unordinary nature of the World of Light after having been pacified and freed from Galeem’s Gleaming by Sectonia’s Friend Heart.

The CRT, while dazed and confused from the sudden rip of reality that brought his consciousness to this new world, was easily brought back into spirits at the promise of fitting in with the rest of the team for… “entertainment”. Ramattra was not entirely pleased with the idea of carrying a jester aboard the team of such a larger-than-self cause, but Tenna at least seemed to have enough motivation to carry on, and as far as the Omnic was concerned, getting him to his goal of “fame” somewhere in Galeem’s world meant getting rid of this now increasingly annoying ally faster.

Once the group had taken the risk to pass through the ominous barrier that made up the middle of the frosted waterways, Ramattra and Tenna alike were hit with a sudden, unpleasant hazing of their mental well-being. The oddball duo was able to shake this horrible feeling away, but with the dangerous task ahead, their minds being in the right place was of utmost importance. Ramattra particularly advised against crossing one of these barriers in the path they were forging ahead in the future; however, there was a mutual understanding that crossing through the Loathing again might be a necessary risk for the crew to take.

The group stopped in the midst of the plateaus, adjacent to an ore settlement nearby that other members of the group may wish to harvest. When the world is a bunch of worlds smashed together, you never know what might come in handy. Though now that the Seekers stood between the Loathing, a nearby nest of large serpentine monsters, and a faction dispute, there was little option but to make a pathway forward. Ramattra, while capable of leading an effort to take the creatures down, knew the group was pressed for time and that the longer they wandered, the more dangerous the rest of their travels would prove to be.

For the time being, it was best to let the Stagecoach continue forward without obstruction, and Ramattra, after reconnoitering what he had scoped out to Sandaphlon about the two large sleeping serpents, had been advised to create a distraction to allow the Stagecoach to continue on. The only issue with that plan, however, was the intelligence these creatures seemed to possess, and would absolutely not allow the Seekers to pass without a fight. Through word of mouth, this line of communication led Ramattra to seek the aid of the member in the group, hailed as “The Ace Cadet”, who was a professional monster hunter and one of the humans Ramattra fought alongside during their battle with the Puppetmaster Markiona.

Ace would feel a stern and steeling - yet reassuring grasp clutch his shoulder as the Omnic spoke to him in a level, robotic voice. “Human… The path ahead homes two large serpentine creatures. I have been informed you are… quite the expert in this domain? We certainly have the numbers and firepower to take them down, but we are quite strapped for time.”

Completely unfazed at being called by his race, the hunter turned his head from where he'd been studying the now sleeping leviathans to give Ramattra a wide, almost cocky grin. "They don't call me 'Ace' for nothing!" he said, before nodding at the Omnic's later sentence.

After returning to the group with Ganondorf and Tenna (who Ace had given a sympathetic pat on the back to when he'd realized both that the strange man was recently destoried and that he was having a hard time of it) just as the coach was blazing a new path towards a small village, the Cadet had been content to simply travel and help out in little ways wherever he could - and it was around then that he'd informed Geralt that the icy orb he was inquiring about looked sort of like an element-producing organ. The Cadet had also taken the time to, finally, sample some of the stagecoach's stew, though not to his fill. For one, even if it replenished itself the rate at which is seemed to fill was slow, and he didn't want to drain the whole thing like he could. For two... well, the pot itself was rather off-putting. Not to mention there was the question of how it refilled itself.

The stew did taste good, at least.

And after leaving the town of Gründachdorf where Ace had struck out in looking for a replacement wheel for the Seekers' mobile base (what they needed simply too large for any ready-made ones to be available, and making a new one would take too long) and the group had picked up two more travelers, it was much the same for the Cadet, just listening to Adam and Eve's explanations and trying to enjoy the ride. Up until the carriage began to maneuver through the ice and salt swamp that is, and then (following it passing a small wall of ghostly fire, which Ace had protested, though his preferred "straight through" route by feuding monsters and into a dark cave was not an attractive one. He really, really hoped that awful feeling of dread actually was an illusion like Edward stated.) he'd hopped off to walk alongside the coach instead. Just in case, they should be ready to act at a moment's notice, and his armor skills prevented the shallow water's frigid cold from seeping into the hunter.

Which brought them all to here, awkwardly parked half in a narrow space between two huge sheets of ice and half in a larger tundra bordering the lake, with two mermaid-like wyverns whose soporific ambush had been handily foiled. For the moment. They would definitely wake the monsters by moving the entire caravan through the space, and dealing with a chase - or worse, risking damage to the coach by fighting with it parked next to them - was not ideal. With that in mind, two options presented themselves: slay the creatures as quickly as possible, or draw their attention away so that the carriage could move on... and then slay them as quickly as possible.

Either way, Ramattra seemed more than ready to take on the challenge. Ace was glad the Omnic had approached him, though he was going to volunteer regardless. The Cadet liked new experiences just fine, but when something like this was within his wheelhouse, there was no way he was going to avoid it.

Ace shifted his pack so that he could fetch something out of it - a small barrel, not more than a foot in diameter. As he did, he spoke to Ramattra. "This is really just a guess, but judging by their size and shape... I doubt they're gonna be trying to eat us, unlike that big leviathan earlier. So we're at an advantage if we want to distract 'em! If we're not prey, then we're invaders - and we just have to make ourselves the most dangerous intruders in their territory while the rest of the team moves on."

Ramattra nodded at the plucky human’s words. It would be simple, really, for the large Omnic and the beast hunter to come up with a worthy distraction to allow the stagecoach to safely cross the den. Whatever Ace was producing from his bag seemed to be the solution to said problem, and rather than lead the assault, Ramattra thought it best to let Ace guide it, since this was in his direct line of expertise… The thought of Monster Hunting being an official profession to Ramattra sounded ridiculous, given the context of his world, but since his recent awakening, he’s had to part with this ignorance quickly. “I am assuming you have something in mind?” The omnic asked plainly, examining the miniature barrel in the Hunter’s hand. His first thought was that the Cadet was carrying an explosive, which was definitely a reasonable distraction.

Before Ace even had proper time to respond, a booming voice called for the two from the Stagecoach (thankfully the two sirens didn't wake, though they did stir). It was Tenna, trying to get their attention as he approached from the still vehicle. How Edward managed to get the Reindrix piloting the metal contraption to cooperate with their idling was beyond Ramattra. “Yoohoo! Mr. Ramattra!” A low sigh escaped the omnic’s mouth-shaped vent, seemingly already at his wits' end with the newest addition to the Seeker’s ranks.

The television set was waving goofily as he approached, joyful to interact with the two members whom he had… “befriended”. Ramattra thought the TV-man was worryingly aloof, while Ace figured he was just one of those types that were hard to keep down, if a little eccentric. Or, a lot eccentric. Nonetheless, he turned a smile the entertainer's way.

“For the last time, ‘Mr. Ant-Tenna’.” (There was an air of sarcasm in his voice) “The formality is not necessary. Ramattra will do.” The TV set did a mildly mocking “stop” gesture with its hand, insisting that the name stuck with the Omnic. Whatever the Omnic told Tenna back before they reached the large plateaus seemed to resonate with him! He turned to Ace cautiously after staring irritably at their acquaintance. “He was… like this before we freed him, right? All I told him was that we’d drop him off at the next village…” It seemed the CRT had a bad tendency to blow things out of proportion… Ramattra just hoped he wouldn’t get in the way of the task ahead of them.

“So, Mr. Ace Cadet,” Ramattra said, now speaking at a volume loud enough for their begrudging alliance with Tenna in the upcoming area. The TV had space to prove itself soon, and trusted that this encounter wouldn’t be wasted by his foolishness. “The plan, my apologies for getting distracted.”

Amused at the two polar opposites, and especially Ramattra's formality right after telling Tenna it wasn't needed, Ace gave the both of them a grin.

"It's nothing complicated; we'll circle around behind them, closer to the water they probably live in, and then give them a gnarlycuga wake-up call. Combo of that, proximity to their lair, and some threatening movements should be enough to keep their attention on us... if it's not, the others can fend them off while we try something else."

Ace’s lingo and mannerisms were incredibly fascinating to Ramattra. After learning of the nature of Edward’s world, and the curiosity it piqued in the Omnic, it would definitely be something for the two to discuss later. And surely it’d be something for Tenna to get show ideas for!

Hopefully they wouldn't need to come up with a plan b, though. He glanced at Edward, who still had command over the carriage. "Hear that, Ed? Once we got them far enough away and focused on us, get moving!"

Ramattra gave a polite wave to Ed from the edge of the frosted canyon between which the three stood. It is clear to both Ace and Tenna that they had a mutual trust in one another.

Ace then pressed a button on the side of the barrel that resembled a pale yellow gem, and in an instant the container grew to its full size a good three times bigger. The hunter's expression was nearly gleeful as he set it on the ground in front of them. It had been a while since he'd gotten to use the Alchemy Barrel for more than basic ammo creation.

"Help me dump some raw materials in here and we're groovios to go."

It seemed that the pseudo-canyon of ice muted sounds from other open pockets, so hopefully that held true and the noise they were about to make didn't end up drawing anything else towards them. After the three of them put handfuls of scrap ore from Sectonia's previous acquisitions and some materials from Scrapbeak’s Sack, a few pieces of flint and tinder from the camping supplies Ace had purchased in Snowdin, and a few other stuff thrown in 'for fun,' they proceeded to quickly but carefully make their way around the sleeping somnacanths. While they moved, Ace held the barrel in his hands and was shaking it to jostle around the items inside. Once in position he glanced down at the Alchemy Barrel's gemstone to note its brightness, then at Ramattra and Tenna.

"Ready?"

The Omnic would nod, with an affirmative gaze. ”Ready.” He said with stoicism in his voice, almost as if… he were trying to sound cool intentionally. Whether it was or wasn’t was to Ace’s discretion. Tenna struck a fantastic pose, pointing in the air as he exclaimed alongside Ramattra, ”RRRRREADY!!” This, obviously, received a well-deserved glare-down from Ramattra.

Wasting no more time, Ace gave the barrel a few more vigorous shakes and then shoved one of its sides out to face the duo of leviathans. A moment later the barrel shuddered and expelled a large fireball that arced towards the monsters, exploding on impact. As they registered the heat and pain the somnacanths woke up rather viciously, swinging their tails and claws out around them. Their heads swiveled in the direction the attack had come from, and with reddened eyes twinkling they bared their teeth as they hissed and lunged.

It would be less than a moment before the three of them would become targets of the Siren’s attacks, their glaring anger surely to hone on the source of the explosion. With a firm wave, Ramattra would look directly at Ed, signalling to go full throttle while they lead the fight away from the general pathway. ”Go! Now!”

A frozen valley full of frozen water. It was a good thing Sectonia could fly, and Blazermate as well even if the cold didn't bother the medabot at all. Seeing as the shipwreck was too big for Sectonia to get into, and there wasn't anyone getting hurt, both girls stayed at the stagecoach for that one. But as they made their way into the next valley after looting the ship, Sectonia's ore sense went off. A path off the side that the stagecoach couldn't turn into seemed to have some valuable items. The rest of the group could handle the next obstacle, so Sectonia informed them she was going to harvest something valuable.

Flying over to the source of the ore, Sectonia found a bone colored ore that would be called Pelagacite. She would need to study what it would do, but she could tell it was valuable regardless. Even if it wasn't useful for weapons or magic, she could probably sell it. With the quarry empty of enemies, Sectonia spent some time using her earth powers to harvest ore, using her minions to get what they could get as well. It took her some time, but she'd soon come back to the stagecoach with tons of ore. Even more so than what the others could bring back, thanks to her minions carrying some back even if only half of them were immune to the cold.

While Sectonia was harvesting, Blazermate was sitting on the stagecoach looking out for enemies and healing whoever was near her as it felt that there would be some kind of fight or ambush soon. And soon they'd be ambushed by some kind of sea monster. While Ram, Tenna, and Ace had an idea to use some explosive barrels, Blazermate kept them overhealed. She'd deploy her various buffs and debuffs as needed, but these things didn't seem all that strong compared to the things they've fought if their heath was anything to go by. Certainly no giant alligator.

Harry Dubois

𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝒦𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾

Word Count: 704/1,274
Level: Lv: 6 EXP: (3/60)
Lv: 4 EXP: (5/40)
Location: Esaka’s Middle Tier - Saikyo Dojo/ Esaka Temple, Alleyway, and Kyokugen BBQ

During his training with Dan Hibiki, Harry struggled to master even the most basic of moves. His whole body was sweaty from the many times he tried to perform various Saikyo-style moves. And with each failure, he became increasingly frustrated. Slamming his hand into the ground hard enough to leave a small dent. Dan-Sensei came over, patting Harry on the shoulder to calm him down. “Like I said, Harry, you won't master my style in a day. It’s gonna take a lot of time and patience. You're getting the hang of the basics, so you’ll be a pro like me one day with enough practice.” Dan said as another student of Dan’s came over.

“You have done quite well so far. But like comrade Dan said, it will take time to master. Perhaps a practice engagement will help raise your spirits.” The old man Harry, whom he had not seen before, made a point he could somewhat agree with. Dan smiled and nodded his head before standing up.

“Sounds like a good plan, Dr.B. Would ya be up for a bit of friendly sparing, Harry-San?” Dan quickly got into a fighting stance, motioning for Harry to join him. With great reluctance, Harry got onto his feet and mimicked Dan’s fighting stance. Another student was a skinless man with a mace for a hand, volunteered as a referee. The other students circled them, wanting to watch the fight between their sensei and the newbie.

There was a long moment of silence as both men gave each other steely looks. And before long, Drahmin started the fight with Harry and quickly charged towards Dan. Trying to throw a punch that was aimed at Dan’s head. But Dan promptly ducked out of the way, countering by kicking Harry in the shin. This counterattack made Harry wince in pain and back up away from Dan. He took a moment to study Dan and figure out what his weak point could be. He once again ran over towards Dan, but instead of kicking him, he tried to judo throw him over his shoulder. Dan was flipped onto his back with a hard thud. Slowly, Harry’s sensei got back onto his feet and went for a Koryuken. The attack slammed hard into Harry’s hard chin, making Harry fly high into the air.

Harry hit the ground, and the other students thought that was it. But they were surprised when Harry suddenly tried to sweep underneath Dan’s feet. Dan jumped over the sweep and tried to dive kick him. Harry quickly grabbed his legs and held onto his waist, performing a suplex. This was a move he had seen performed in a wrestling match when he was a kid. And he was overjoyed that he was able to replicate the move. After he finished performing the move, he dropped Dan, who was on the floor, breathing heavily.

” Ah crap, Dan-Sense, are you okay?” Harry ran over towards Dan, who, after a moment of silence, gave him a thumbs up—indicating that he was okay.

“Ya…did…good…Harry-San…” He said in a breathy whisper. A few of the students congratulated Harry on his performance in the fight. One of the students, a ginger boxer helped Dan, so he was sitting. Harry had come over to check on him once again. Feeling guilty for perhaps concussing his sensei. Dan had a bottle of water as another student ran out to grab a doctor. Even though he was worried he might have gone too hard sparing Dan, he was happy to hear he did well.

He thought that he could get pretty far in the tournament. Maybe not win it, but perhaps he could get to the quarter finals at least. The doctor soon came to check on Dan. A strange-looking man with a paper bag over his head went into the room. In one hand, he had a doctor’s bag, and in the other was what looked like a giant scalpel. Harry seemed quite concerned that this doctor was a quack and was going to lop off Dan’s head. But thankfully, that didn’t seem to be the case. And thankfully, Dan was not showing signs of a concussion.

—-----

@Terry Bogard @Chevaleresse

Kim, meanwhile, was in downtown Esaka trying to find any information on any of the four kings. The process is less than fruitful. He was on the verge of giving up until a few minutes ago. During his investigation, he ran into an old man in a temple who said they could give him some information. From the small nuggets of information he gleaned from his conversation with the man, he discovered that the man was Terry Bogard’s teacher.

” Thank you for taking the time from your training to answer my questions.” Kim said as he pulled out his notebook and pen. The old man carefully walked over to sit down on a nearby bench. Kim soon joined him before their conversation continued. ” What information do you know about Geese Howard?” He waited for Tung’s response, who by this point was trying to catch his breath.

“Ah, indeed I am. And what I know of Geese Howard is that he is an extremely dangerous man. He has schemed and killed to gain a vast amount of power. If one wanted to battle him, one would have to be careful because of his mastery of Hakkyokuseiken.” The man coughed loudly and gave Kim a thankful look when handed a handkerchief.

” And do you know if there's any weakness I could see if I were to face him in the tournament?” Kim took the used handkerchief after jotting down some notes.

“Weakness? Well, I would personally keep my distance from him. However, he does have the ability to unleash fireballs to close the distance between himself and his opponent. If you do find yourself up close and personal with Geese, you will need to be careful of his counterholds. But like I said, you could easily distance yourself from him. You could use his arrogance and pride to find an opening for a counterattack.” The old man said, with Kim writing down everything he had said. “I have seen him struggle with opponents crouching and repeatedly performing a low kick.” He added, which Kim thought was somewhat amusing.

” Is there anything else you can tell me about Geese?” Kim took a moment to finish writing to listen to Tung.

“Of course, before you can even get to Geese, you will need to get through his four goons. They are Billy Kane, Hooper, Ripper, and Mr.Big. Billy and Mr. Big use canes and billy clubs as their primary weapons. Hopper and Ripper use hand-to-hand combat. They will not be a problem, but Kane and Big are quite formidable foes.” Tung finished having no more information to give to Kim.

” Thank you for answering my questions Mr.Rue.” Kim put away his pen and notebook, walking away to now find some information on Kazuya Mishima. His search led him to a rather bad part of Esaka. Asking around about what information they knew about Kazuya. If they had seen him fight before, could they tell him any way to defeat him. As he went down an alleyway, he was suddenly surrounded by a group of G-Corp security forces.

“You there…stop where you are. We want to ask you if you know this woman.” One spoke, showing Kim a blurry picture of Nadia.

” Mhm, I may have seen her skulking around the area. But I have not interacted with her at all.” Kim said. He didn’t like the look of them; he didn’t have a lot of positive interactions with G-Corp. But another G-corp soldier didn’t seem to believe Kim’s lie.

“Are you sure you have not seen this woman before? She is wanted for questioning. We believe she is a prime suspect for a recent robbery last night.” The third soldier said, but Kim wondered if they had jurisdiction here or not.

“Like I said, I have not seen that woman before. And this seems like an EPD matter, A matter that I am in the middle of an investigation.” Once again, he was lying, letting his dramatic thoughts tell him what he should say. Unfortunately, his lie did not seem to land. One of the soldiers came over and had a hand on Kim’s shoulder. Asking him to come along with them. And before long, the trooper was on his back after Kim threw him over his shoulder.

The other troopers were closing in on Kim, and the third one was slowly getting back onto his feet. Kim got into a fighting stance as all three men surrounded him. One of the G-Corp guards pulled out what looked like a cattle prod, but before he could use it, he was knocked backwards by a bolt of lightning. Kim rubbed his eyes, wondering if they were playing tricks on him. Turning around, he noticed a figure stood at the entrance of the alleyway.

“Three against one is not really fair, wouldn’t you agree, Detective Kim?” The detective nodded as the figure stepped closer. His eyes looked over to the troopers, filled with electricity. “Ah ah, I don’t think so.” The man wagged his finger as the electricity seemed to cover his whole body.

The man’s outfit was strange, and Kim couldn’t put his finger on where he had seen similar clothing. The troopers were probably scolding the man before starting to walk away. They knew who the figure was and didn’t want to start a fight with him.

“Thank you for your help. How did you know my name?” Kim had not met or seen this man before.

“I have known about you since the first time you arrived here. And of your partner Harry, when he arrived a few weeks ago.” The man spoke with an oddly familiar accent, but he couldn’t put his finger on what region of Elysium he had heard it before.

This fact made Kim quite weary of the man. He was unsure if he was working with the Four Kings or Galeem. But the figure shook their head with a smile on their face.

“Sorry, I should introduce myself. My name is Raiden, I am the guardian of Earthrealm and the god of thunder. But you may call me friend.” Raiden bowed to Kim, who was unsure of what to do next, and bowed back.

“It is nice to meet you, Raiden. Perhaps you could help me with something? I am doing some investigating on the Four Kings. I want to know what I am getting into, and how I could beat them. I would greatly appreciate any advice you would have on them.” Kim and Raiden walked out of the alleyway and onto the street.

“Of course, I do not mind helping you mortals. But perhaps we can get something to eat; I’m famished." A statement that made Kim raise an eyebrow. He didn’t know gods could get hungry. “Let’s converse in Kyokugen BBQ.” He chose his place because he really enjoyed the pork belly.

Both of them soon arrived, with Raiden nabbing a table for both of them. But Kim wondered if he would be paying for their meal. As they were walking to their table, Kim noticed someone he didn't know and Terry sitting at a table. He gave them a wave, not wanting to bother them for the time being. After their meal, he could come over to talk to them about his findings.

Both of them then started conversing about any information Raiden knew about Bison, Rugal, Shao Kahn, and Heihachi, and instead chose to focus on Shao Kahn in particular. Mostly ranting about how much of a jerk the Outworld emperor was.

While the other Seekers spread out to explore the small village they’d stumbled upon, Geralt stayed in the stagecoach with Tirn, the pair silently sitting upon the bench. The witcher was deep in thought, while his pokemon companion was simply content to curl up and rest beside its trainer. Among the myriad new weapons he’d developed the ability to summon and use, Geralt was having trouble keeping track of those he needed the most practice with. Tartaglia’s hydrobaldes were something he was becoming accustomed to, while Ishmael’s various Identities all had their own combat styles and weapons that he had to adjust to on the fly, and often midfight.

The strange harpoon-like pile bunker was the weapon most unlike anything Geralt had used before. It extended his punching range, but also allowed for dagger-like slashing attacks. Even though the pistol of the LCCB Assistant Manager Identity was centuries ahead of Geralt’s hand crossbow, the same principles applied. Their projectile velocity might have been worlds apart, but at the range he was accustomed to using his hand crossbow, the compensations were mostly simple.

As long as he kept practicing with each, he’d grow more comfortable with them, and being dragged around like in the fight against Markiona would be less likely to happen. What a frustrating battle that had proved to be…

Tenna’s presence was, to a degree, somewhat refreshing to Geralt, as the strangely-headed man had some of Dandelion’s bombast, and thankfully (so far) appeared to lack the Bard’s womanizing nature. How many problems that man had gotten himself into chasing a woman surpassed even Geralt’s own count, which was…significant. Ace had given him some advice on the ice organs he’d received from the Chillet, as well, which went appreciated, and he transported the item to the Avenger’s armory using Edward’s spell.

As they advanced, different people disembarked the stagecoach to deal with the various threats and opportunities that arose. Heismay scouted ahead and reported what they’d likely be dealing with, and Edward was quick to disembark to investigate the shipwrecked vessels as they entered the first area. The strange, soul-chilling feeling that spread among the Seekers felt more than just an illusion to Geralt, but he knew better than to ruin their morale by mentioning it.

Sectonia was quick to break off from their path and gather a veritable horde of minions to gather ore for the group, and for a short while Geralt hopped from the back of the stagecoach to help them load their haul, hastening the process just a little. The freezing water chilled his legs even through his armor, though he was able to withstand the discomfort for a few minutes while Ace, Tenna, and Remattra prepared their counter-ambush against the Somnacanths that Edward had managed to put to sleep using their own powders. Ironic, that. As they began their attack, Geralt climbed back into the stagecoach and held a small flame from Igni in his hands to help dry his boots and banish the chill from his bones.

As the stagecoach barrelled on, away from the battle, Geralt climbed to the front and hung out to get a look at what they were coming up on. When nothing immediately revealed itself, he tapped Edward on the shoulder. “Let me check this out. If anything happens, get clear and send Blazermate out for support.” The Medabot, aside from Ace, was the member of the Seekers he had the most experience fighting alongside, and her healing abilities were second perhaps only to Sandalphon in potency, but far surpassed hers in their ability to sustain a single fighter.

As he climbed out the rear of the coach, Heismay appeared. "If there are no monsters here, twould be a fine spot for fishing." The Eugief produced a tacklebox and fishing rod, looking out into the open reaches of this section of canyon.. "Might as well try my luck, for however long time permits."

Nodding to the diminutive man, Geralt drew his bow and stalked out, eyes scanning his surroundings and preparing to fire on anything hostile that reared its head. After a short while, however, nothing did, even as he paced through the shallower areas of water. He could see some movement in the deeper waters, but it was subtle and inconsistent. He turned back to the stagecoach and waved, prompting Heismay to burst from it and launch himself to the nearest cliff face, from which he scurried about to find a safe place to fish from.

Trudging through the water back to the stagecoach, he climbed back inside and called out to Edward ahead. “Should be clear for a while. Within this area, at least.”

The cantina's combination of modern convenience and sensibility with its rustic, more familiar aesthetic was something Primrose could appreciate. The earlier conversation with Nadia still lingered in her mind, but for now, she was more than content to play a pair of wealthy ladies looking for fun together with her friend. As a way to show she wasn't among those who would spurn Nadia's money making ways (which, to be fair, had never really been in question) Primrose accepted the feral's offer to treat her. The dancer's choices were a modest plate of spiced potatoes, peppers, and sausage in a thin red sauce, along with a glass of wine - and a small plate of garlic shrimp to share, before the entrees arrived. Not the only thing they'd split, since the drink Ms. Fortune ended up ordering was large enough for a whole table, let alone just two diners and a smug pup.

"If you insist," Primrose laughed when Nadia asked for help with it. Since it seemed as though she may not get a chance to perform tonight, she didn't mind. She had definitely planned to give dancing there a go, perhaps make a few coins and get a cover for staying in Esaka, but she also didn't mind being entertained rather than being the entertainment... though bloodsport was not her first choice.

Still, she sat back and turned her attention to the center of the room, a little caught up in Nadia and the other patrons' excitement. Given everything she'd already seen in the world she wouldn't have been surprised if the King of Dinosaurs was in fact a dinosaur, but as the fighters squared up she noticed that was not actually the case. She glanced over at Nadia then, amused.

"Which pair are you rooting for? I'm partial to the one with the man dressed in that lizard costume myself."

Nadia nodded. “Yeah, I’m with ya! I don’t know what it is about those kinds of wrestlers, but I love the spirit of it.” That said, the luchadore’s partner was a little bland for her taste, and their opponents weren’t without their charms. Something told Nadia to keep her eyes on the frizzy-haired, surly-looking one. She tried not to worry too much about the ethics of the exhibition and just focus on the thrilling spectacle, though she knew that things could get ugly between gleaming competitors. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

Of course, Esaka fighters were no strangers to how combat tended to go, so there seemed to be some precautions in place. While the organizers briefly went over the rules, Nadia’s attention drifted to the newly-arrived food. She eagerly sampled the clams and other appetizers, making sure to dote upon her new canine companion, but she kept the bulk of her attention on perhaps her most daunting opponent yet: the Forbidden Fruit watermelon sangria. Her regenerative abilities made her a real heavyweight when it came to drinking, able to withstand a lot more booze than the average woman, but she was not without her limits. Tonight, the massive cocktail she’d ordered would be putting the Life Gem to the test. Her first few gulps, sweet and fresh without any discernible alcoholic burn, were deceptive; it would only be a matter of time before she began to feel the effects.

A moment later, the tag-team clash began. As one might expect, the showy King of Dinosaurs took center stage first, and against him the other duo fielded Gerelt. They met in a storm of muscle and metal, and the applause and cheers quickly gave way to an elegant, yet upbeat Spanish pasodoble, the duelists’ face-off elevated by the mix of acoustic guitar, vigorous drums, and dramatic violin in ways Nadia wouldn’t have thought possible. Once the action really kicked off, she could scarcely look away, so it was fortunate her drink came with a long straw.

Both men possessed a great deal of skill, while also showcasing very different skillsets. As with any grappler, the King of Dinosaurs wanted to get as close as possible to ensnare the opposition with brutal, theatrical grabs. Nobody knew this better than Franco Gerelt, of course, and his strategy spoke volumes to his experience. He kept his distance, poking and punishing his foe with the speed and reach of his rapier. Lithe and unerringly precise, the man in red darted around the King of Dinosaurs like a matador with a bull. Neither specialized in long combos, so their battle became a delicate dance of spacing.

At first, things looked bad for luchador fans like Nadia, since the King of Dinosaurs seemed to have a huge disadvantage. The big man had seen his fair share of zoners, though, and he fought back with more calculated cunning than his larger-than-life persona might suggest. He approached carefully and tirelessly as he alternated between blocks and walks, never losing his cool even as Gerelt cleverly changed up his timing to score hits. When the King of Dinosaurs did get in, he made it count with bombastic grabs like Dyna Bomb and Zetsumetsu Hurricane, a flying, spinning pile driver. The first time he actually managed to make it through Gerelt’s offense and land that grab, Nadia joined in on the cheering. Against all odds, the King of Dinosaurs definitely had this in the bag!

Or so the crowd thought. Gerelt had proven himself to be a nimble fighter despite the heavy-looking armor he wore, and not only did he swiftly recover from being made to eat the tavern floor but he did so by lifting himself into handstand (on just one hand!) and spinning, using his glowing weapon to sweep the dino-cosplayer off of his feet. Gerelt was back on his a moment later, taking his fighting stance with one hand on his hip and his sword leveled at his challenger once more. The move earned a swell of gleeful shouts from the cantina's patrons, and when Dinosaur stood up and roared to show he wasn't beaten, another round of cheers rippled through the building.

Primrose had yet to cheer aloud herself, instead just enjoying the dinner and a show. Throughout the match she glanced at the two combatants' partners, who both stood on opposite sides of the caged in area where they could, she assumed, be tagged in at any time. The girl who'd introduced them even said as much. Of course, Primrose doubted that once the fighting was underway that any participant would be willing or able to tag out. If one were to fall, would their partner step in right then or would a new match with the fresh pair begin? They'd be finding out soon enough, as the first bout was nearing a victor.

Gerelt's elegant fighting style meant more sweeping strokes of his rapier, quick stabs and flowing dodges, and more bravado as the King of Dinosaurs began to slow down. He side stepped one of the luchador's charges and paused to clap his hands together, baiting the other man to try it again. When the muscular tyrannosaur-headed fighter turned and barreled towards him just as planned, Gerelt hit him with a few rapid strikes head on that sent Dinosaur to the ground. He landed heavy on his front, seemingly dazed. The audience and even the MC looked ready to declare a winner, until the King of Dinosaurs bit down on Gerelt's calf from his prone state and surged upward, tossing the armored man into the air with a loud battle cry. Primrose blinked in surprise. Was that head not just an elaborate mask after all...?!

While Gerelt twisted to regain some control in the air during his fall, below him Dinosaur ran to meet him where he was about to land. The luchador shifted into a shoulder charge and crashed into Gerelt, slamming the red-clad man into the wall of the cage near the two Seekers. The impact rattled Gerelt, and once the King of Dinosaurs stepped back the mustachioed matador couldn't support his own weight, falling hard to his knees. After a moment-long dramatic hush fell over the diners, they came back to life with both shouts of praise and boos that seemed to appeal more to the costumed combatant.

"Wahahaha! It's common sense that you can't beat a dinosaur!" He roared, raising his arms to flex his muscles.

"Epa! What an upset!" The MC said over her microphone, her voice cheerful and just as excited as the audience's.

Though things had gone back to looking dicey for a few moments, Nadia was delighted by the outcome. It had been a welcome surprise when the King of Dinosaurs actually put his supposed mask’s fanged maw to use after all; maybe he really was more monster than man. Gerelt certainly had a share of appreciators, but it seemed like the patrons here were eating up the luchador’s come-from-behind victory, with a lot more folks in the grappler’s camp than the zoner’s. While people generally did like rooting for an underdog, Nadia knew there was more to it than that. To an extent she felt the same way; compared to the reliable but repetitious skillset of the zoner, who spectators often perceived as being much less skilled than they were, who didn’t want to see a wrestler weather the storm and land a sensational grab? Nadia couldn’t help but wonder, though, if these onlookers had the same hands-on experience with grapplers that she did. Those so-called heroic, hard-working underdogs could be unabashed war criminals too!

During the brief lull Nadia looked down to discover that her food had arrived at some point while she’d been engrossed in the fight. “Wow, that was fast!” Of course, even if that first round lasted fifteen minutes she might not have noticed. With the second round poised to begin, however, she quickly stuffed her mouth with her meal and then washed it down with sangria, not even really taking the time to savor what she’d ordered. Not a moment too soon, the bells went off to signify the explosive start of round two, with both previous fighters substituted out for their tag-team partners. With the match-up between Jose and Miguel less obvious at a glance than their more archetypal predecessors’, it was time to see what these two could do.

Miguel came out swinging, quickly approaching with an odd, stuttering dash-dance before closing the last bit of distance with a wild string of lunge punches. He made no bones about his fighting style, that being the all-out offense of a back-alley brawler, undisciplined but brutal. Though his exaggerated wind-ups and follow-throughs left a handful of openings, his sheer speed and strength made exploiting them difficult, and that wasn’t all. Even in the arena Miguel practically oozed braggadocio, interspersing his attacks with taunts meant to keep his opponent guessing and chip away at his mental.

His opponent was not a man to be taken lightly, though. Pepe Rodriguez favored kicks to Miguel’s punches, preferring to fight from a little farther away. He also possessed a bright, upbeat demeanor that contrasted his foe’s churlish aggression. A sunny outlook wasn’t the ace up the shirtless young man’s metaphorical sleeve, though. After Pepe managed to take his turn back from Miguel and push him back with a handful of quick wind kicks, he followed up with a low dash into an upward gut punch cloaked in crackling electricity. Miguel did not look anywhere near as surprised as Nadia did, though, and after toughing out the blockstun he leaped up and forward to deliver a flying punch to Pepe’s face. His disadvantage gave Pepe the time, however, to jump up, snatch him with his legs, and flip him to the ground in an impressive Frankensteiner airgrab.

“Whoa,” Nadia remarked, her voice a touch loopier than usual as her sangria began to kick in. “Guess this guy’s saucier than he looks…”

Primrose nodded in agreement, though her friend wouldn't see it as fixated on the battle as she was.

One bad exchange wasn’t enough to discourage Miguel, though. When Pepe tried to continue his offense, the brawler cut his blockstring short with a brain-rattling quick double punch that knocked his foe on his back, and Miguel added insult to injury with an upward snap kick that rolled Pepe over backward. He followed up with a furious assault of high and low punches, quickly pushing Pepe toward the edge of their arena. Between the electric Mexican and pissed-off Spaniard, Nadia had no idea who to root for–she just hooted and hollered indiscriminately, her allegiance changing at a moment’s notice.

The men kept up the momentum, trading punches, kicks, knees and elbows as they fought for every inch their opponent might give them. As the battle kept on, Primrose eventually followed the lead of the other patrons and joined in with a few words of encouragement thrown the fighters' way - mostly Pepe's. It was unlikely her voice could even be heard over the cheering, the band, or the sounds of the match itself, but it was fun. In the back of her mind she noted how the fighters, and their partners from the previous match, moved; it may have been obvious to anyone steeped in this kind of martial arts culture but for her, an outsider, it hadn't been as clear before then just how different a hand-to-hand master was in a one on one fight versus the sort of warriors she was used to. Even the duels in Victors Hollow from her home world couldn't compare. And these were the kinds of people that the Seekers were going to go face to face with over the next few days... would they really be alright?

Well, even if they all got knocked out then the group could try something else. Still, she kept the mental image of the martial artists' movements as best she could for tomorrow, even though she wouldn't be one of the Seekers competing. She wasn't sure if any of it would actually help, but it couldn't hurt either.

The second round ended with a decisive string of vicious strikes from the home team's rep. Though Pepe landed a roundhouse kick and sent static electricity coursing through the connection point, Miguel withstood it with grit teeth and lunged forward to trap his opponent in a shoulder lock. He delivered two strikes to Jose's back and abdomen at the same time with a knee and his free fist before shoving the other man away and lurching forward in an unsteady looking stance. When Jose recovered and moved in to interrupt whatever it was Miguel had planned, the Spaniard crouched into a heavy uppercut that caught the dragon-blessed fighter by surprise - followed by a straight punch to the chest and twisting backhand. As the fist struck his face Pepe staggered backward. He fought to remain standing for a few moments before he dropped flat onto his back.

Once more the patrons shouted their pleasure while Miguel cracked the joints in his neck. "Te vas de gratis."

"Awww, Pepe!" The woman announcer Pupa said as she slapped a hand to her forehead dramatically. Clearly she had a favorite between the two competitors. She clicked her tongue and shook her head, then took the mic in hand once more. "It's one for Team México, one for Team Espanha! There's a lot more to go after a quick break, you won't want to miss it!"

The noise level in the dining room hardly lessened once the break started; if anything once the cheering stopped and the conversation started, excited discussions mixed with friendly debates, it seemed as though the tavern was livelier than before as the four fighters got patched up and ready for the next round.

Primrose had clapped politely at the end of the match, only mildly let down that her favored fighter lost, then turned back to their table. She's been taking her time while eating, though her own meal was near finished. She'd also been pacing herself with the drinks, as it was a little awkward to scoop the sangria into her glass whenever she emptied it, unlike Nadia across from her. Primrose placed her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her folded hands as she smiled at her friend's flushed face. "Having fun, I take it?"

“Oh yeah~” Nadia was already full, both of food and of liquor, and sadly the watermelon wasn’t anywhere close to empty. Her lapdog had polished off more than his fair share as well, and now lay at the feet of the catgirl’s chair, sprawled out and sleepy. Though Nadia herself fared a little better, it wouldn’t take much more drinking to leave her wiped out as well. After a few moments another round in the tag team’s best-of-ten got underway, but with the novelty slightly diminished, Nadia wasn’t quite so enraptured. She watched idly, allowing the spectacle to fade into the background as she relaxed in her chair. It had been a long day of running both to and all around Esaka, with a couple heists and no shortage of fights sprinkled in, so the feral was pretty gassed. As her alcohol-induced haze thickened, she sunk into the brain fog like steam in a sauna, warmly and gently enveloping her as existential thoughts drifted away. It reminded her of the peace she’d sought after returning to Limsa Lominscuttle Town from Carcass Isle, though that night had been far, far more grueling. Hopefully the World of Light had no more surprises in store like the dreadful Maw or that nightmarish Beach.

After a few moments Nadia’s eyes slid open. For a brief moment she considered another go at the watermelon, but she stopped herself when her eyes settled on Primrose. She didn’t want to get so drunk that her wellbeing became her friend’s problem. Her instincts, honed by a childhood spent scrounging streets and never knowing when her next meal might come, urged her to drink and devour every last morsel, but she’d come a long way since then and knew that it would be smarter to practice a little temperance for a change. She smiled. “Man…those puh…poor Lost Numbers. They don’t know what they’re missin’ out on, hidin’ up in the Avenger all day long…I know it’s risky for ‘em, but there’s more to life than survival, y’know…”

Primrose hummed in general agreement. She really should be the last person to talk about there being more to life than 'x,' but every now and then she did at least stop for a little fun, like now. Ultimately though there seemed to be little choice for the Lost Numbers though; it would be too dangerous to live in a city still under the Consuls' control, but equally as dangerous to live in one outside of it in case Moebius came looking to reclaim it. The dancer also didn't want to bring up the "after" even if it was to suggest the Lost Numbers would probably have more fulfilling lives once everything was over, on the off chance it triggered more despair about the potential future.

She still had her filter, but after a moment Primrose realized she was taking longer than normal to reply to Nadia, so she mentioned one of the first things that popped into her head after that. "We'll have to bring some of the spectacle to them. Hm... maybe not the cage matches, but perhaps a keg or two, or..."

Nadia brightened up immediately. “OH! That’s a great idea! I could steal ‘em some booze to liven things up a li’l, heheh…” She blinked a couple times, then shook her head and did an offhanded facepalm. “I mean, or just buy them, I guess! Not used to havin’ money. Probably too…uh, sloshed, heh, to steal anythin’ anyhow…”

Primrose chuckled. "Honestly either way works, but it doesn't have to be tonight."

Though if they wanted to stay on the cantina staff's good side, a purchase would definitely be preferable. Primrose then recalled that they'd been given free reign to decorate their borrowed quarters on the ship, but maybe they could deck out one of the shared living spaces every now and then for some parties to liven things up. Primrose knew it wouldn't be the same as experiencing it for themselves, but until the world at large was safer it couldn't be helped.

Primrose glanced back at the stage on one side of the room, where the band continued playing the mood-setting theme for the night's main event. "I'm sure we could even convince a musician to come along and put on a show~"

A thoughtful look crossed the catgirl’s face for perhaps the first time ever. “Hey, maybe. Now thatcha mention it…kinda weird there’s no musicians on the team. Right? What’s life without a li’l music? Boring, so boring.” She narrowed her eyes as she scratched her chin. “Y’know, I’m startin’ to think…” A few seconds passed by in relative silence. She pursed and unpursed her lips, then sighed. “Nah, false alarm.” With a giggle she laid her head down on her arms, her eyes closed once more.

"We have Detective Band I suppose," Primrose said with a tilt of her head. She wasn't entirely sure if the man counted, though. The dancer waited for Nadia to continue her thought, even after the cat burglar seem poised to slip into a nap. She didn't mind the companionable silence really, not that it was anywhere near silent in the tavern, but after a few more seconds she ended up asking, "what is it?"

And then it was few seconds more before Primrose caught on that the phrasing might have been one of Nadia's many jokes. The delayed realization and the joke itself threatened to draw a rather undignified snort of laughter from the once-noblewoman, though she tired stifling it with a hand raised to her mouth and an "Oh."

The catgirl snickered. “Nyeheheh. Sounds like ya got it. I uh…did forget about Band, actually. Never heard him play, though…” A loud crash drew her attention toward the arena, where the King of Dinosaurs had just landed a Zetsumetsu Hurricane against Miguel to win a slobberknocker of a match, amidst the uproar of the crowd. That put the tag teams’ score at 5-4, favoring the Spaniards, which meant the exhibition was down to a climactic final match. Nadia pushed herself up and rubbed her eyes awake, surprised that Miguel and Gerelt had scored so many rounds in what felt like a short time. Then again, time always flew when having fun.

She watched as Pepe and Gerelt fought the final bout, a contest of spacing and skill rather than raw strength and tenacity. With his rapier, Gerelt expertly warded off the worst of Pepe’s thunderbolts and struck back with well-placed thrusts, but Pepe gave as good as he got with energetic kicking combos that seemed to dilate time as a red aura filled the area. In the end, it came down to a final scramble as Gerelt, disarmed and on his last legs, had to fight unscathed for almost thirty seconds as he wore the healthier Pepe down to his level, then finally seized victory with a throw. The crowd practically erupted in favor of the home team, and money traded hands as celebratory cervezas appeared.

Nadia clapped along with everyone else, but she was very tired at this point. While the night air outside and the crisp, pleasant smell of rain-soaked earth could clear her head a little, it was clear she needed to get moving now if she meant to pass out in a bed tonight. She paid for her and Primrose’s meals out of her ill-gotten gains and got ready to go. After finishing the last of what was in her cup and nudging the dog Yappy gently awake, who true to his name let out a few high pitched barks that blended in with the celebratory mood in the cantina, Primrose moved to join Ms. Fortune.

As they left the dancer made sure to catch the attention of some members of the staff, smiling, winking, and waving at them so that hers would be a familiar face to them in the near future. The possibility of dancing for tips on a slow night combined with the less-than-legal betting on Esaka's tournament series meant that Mesón De Las Flores would be a good option to keep in mind for money making while the other Seekers were embroiled in their battles up the brackets. Though Primrose would be sure to catch a few matches in person to support Nadia and the others, of course.

Once they were back out on the streets of Esaka, Primrose breathed in the night air and then curled her arm, holding it out towards Nadia in an offer to link arms. Tressa would often do the same on the way back to whatever inn the Travelers were staying at for the night, and Primrose had grown to appreciate the gesture.

"I'll treat you next time," she said by way of thanks. "For now though, shall we head back, Ms. actual fortune?"

Laughing, Nadia playfully accepted the arm to lean on. She didn’t think she was drunk enough to stumble and fall flat on her face, but it never hurt to be sure. “You’re the boss, Rosey!”

Primrose let out a puff of a sigh at the nickname, but she let it slide with a small smile. Together the two women sauntered down the road back towards Banishing Flats, ready to turn in for the night.

Upon returning to the stagecoach, Mokou had spent a bit of time simply sitting on top of the main section, plucking the strings of her new lute as if testing the sound. She didn’t attempt to play a proper song, not yet, but one could see that old memories were stirring within her. Unfortunately her attention was eventually shifted as the convoy reached the saltwater lake, causing the phoenix to look up from her lute and let out a sigh, placing the instrument down and rising to her feet, “I’ll take a look around myself. If I find anything I’ll head on back” she says, waving a hand at the rest of the group before she takes to the sky once more, a streak of orange following her movements as she flew ahead.

With a high vantage point, Mokou was capable of seeing much of the same as Heismay, from the yellow wreckage to the various monsters that inhabited the frozen lands. But Mokou’s eyes were drawn to the lake itself, her years of experience warning her that something lurked within the dark waters. Slowly, Mokou lands next to the edge of the lake, her hands in her pockets as she stares out at the unfrozen water. For a few moments her red eyes simply scan the still waters. It was quiet… Far too quiet for a lake of this size. Casually, she kicks her foot across the floor, knocking a series of stones into the water and disturbing the eerie calm, testing to see if anything actually took her bait.

For a few moments it seemed like nothing had happened. Mokou was so busy looking at the big picture that she didn’t notice some of the smaller details at first–had the fog always been that thick, drifting and coiling above the surface of the frigid water? As the seconds ticked by, however, with the biting cold wind in Mokou’s ears and the muffled sounds of combat a ways to the south, the dark water of the lake began to churn. Something was coming. Given the sheer scale of displaced water one could easily be forgiven for thinking that Two-Toed Tom had somehow recovered and followed the Seekers here, hellbent on seizing his hard-fought meal at last. This was no mere alligator, though. As a massive shape finally began to emerge from the deep, it became clear that this thing was much bigger, much stronger, and much, much stranger.

First, there came jagged, aquamarine scales, encrusted with barnacles. Then came a crown of gold, its odd greenish luster the product of some primeval, abyssal metallurgy. Then came the eyes, huge, bulbous, and moon-like, the color of sour milk. Then came the teeth, a maw of spiky fangs the size of spears, redundant in their quantity, like vile palisades. It was an aquatic monstrosity, and if its head alone stood as tall as the stagecoach itself, one could only shudder to imagine the full scope of its loathsome enormity. Though its eyes lacked pupils, Mokou could feel its baleful gaze rest upon her, and a hideous rumble issued from the beast as it exuded its Breath of the Sea. When that fathomless vapor brushed against Mokou, it not only had a good chance to inflict stress, but one Blind token and two Vulnerable tokens.

Mokou, however, simply stares back at the leviathan before her, narrowing her eyes at the monster rising from the depths to face her. When the putrid breath rolled over the lakeside, Mokou simply took to the air, a flurry of feathers forming in the air before raining down. Yet her opening volley was met by the beast’s jagged scales, each feather dispersing on contact with little effect. The milky voids that counted for its eyes simply follows Mokou’s movement… Before it inhales with a deep breath. In an instant afterwards, it regurgitates a torrent of both water and undigested fish, using it as a beam to knock the phoenix from the sky. But for Mokou, the torrent of water was a simple thing to dodge, the immortal practically sliding underneath it as another torrent of larger feathers flew towards the beast.

For a minute, the duo found a rhythm in their attacks, the leviathan attempting to knock Mokou out of the sky with its breath and water, whilst the phoenix rained fire down upon its wet, glistening scales. Yet the beast quickly grew tired of the fact that Mokou was flying far above it, and thus…

It chose to act on its rage.

As Mokou narrowly avoided yet another torrent of water, treating the fight more as a chore rather than a battle, a sudden chill went down her spine, causing her to stop for a moment. Admittedly, it was less fear and more out of curiosity, as the immortal registered what had just happened. That chill was a primal response to something, and in a way, Mokou was intrigued by what would have caused it. Her answer would be quickly found when she looked back down, noticing a gleaming light from within the leviathan’s eyes.

Before it leapt out of the water, its long arm outstretched to snatch Mokou out of the sky. Normally, the phoenix would be capable of dodging such a strike, yet in that instant, she was caught off guard, resulting in the beast easily wrapping its webbed hand around her body, leaving only her head visible as gravity took control once more, sending it falling back into the lake with its prey in hand, struggling within its grip, attempting to drown Mokou by holding her under the surface.

The small medieval-esque town didn’t offer a whole lot. There were some places and amenities to see but none that really stood out to Roxas as he was looking around. That is until he saw the dim glow of a certain red roof. It was sort of an outdoor kiosk or rest stop, and the white logo on the center of the roof was unmistakably the shape of a Poke Ball. Roxas jogged toward what he quickly figured out was a Pokemon Center, albeit one with limited facilities due to its size. It was only manned by two individuals. One was a young guy standing behind the blue section of the counter, and the other was a pink-haired nurse attending the red section of the counter that contained the same kind of machine Roxas saw Rui use to heal Pokemon with back at the adoption center in Port Meridia.

“Hi there!” Said the Nurse with a chipper smile, “Are your Pokemon in need of treatment?”

Now that he thought about it, Roxas’ Pokemon did use up a lot of energy battling those Wild Pokemon earlier. And Larxene was still weakened somewhat from when he captured her as well. ”Sure, how much do I owe you?”

“Oh no.” the Nurse replied with a bright smile, “Pokemon Center healing services are free for everyone. May I see your Pokemon for a moment?”

Surprised, Roxas handed over his five Poke Balls, which the Nurse slotted into the machine. The screen showed images of the Pokemons’ appearances that then flashed for a couple of moments with pulsing green plus signs as a short little chime went off.

“There you go, all better.” the Nurse said, returning the Pokemon back to Roxas. “If you need supplies, talk to my colleague over here. Our inventory selection is limited out here, but we at least offer the basics - Potions, Antidotes, Paralyze Heals, and - of course - Poke Balls.”

“Well, did you want to buy any supplies?” the guy chimed in. “We accept both zenny and League Points as currency here. You can also use the TM Machine here if you need it.”

”Um… what are those?” Roxas asked, not knowing about either League Points or TMs.

“You almost have a full Pokemon Team and you’ve never used those before?” the guy asked, somewhat surprised, “Well, it’s simple really. League Points are a form of currency that is accepted for purchasing supplies at Poke Marts if you don’t have regular money. This machine is called a Technical Machine Machine, or TM Machine. TMs, Technical Machines, are small disks that contain the data for a specified move that you can use to teach it to a Pokemon as long as that Pokemon is compatible. The TM Machine is used to craft TMs utilizing materials you’ve no doubt been collecting from defeating Pokemon in the wild.”

Roxas blinked. It was true, he did collect some materials that Wild Pokemon had been dropping. ”So that’s what they’re used for?” He asked, ”How does it work?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” The Poke Mart clerk approached the green counter where the machine sat and booted it up, “You just scroll through this screen like on a Rotom Phone to select a TM you want to print. Then you just deposit the correct materials and the TM is printed for you. In exchange for a small fee of League Points of course.” The attendant demonstrated by inserting some unfamiliar Pokemon materials and choosing a selection. With a bzzt, the machine then spat out a gray colored disk. “And there you have it. Why don’t you keep this TM as a free sample? It’s TM032, and it teaches the move Swift. It’s pretty compatible with just about any Pokemon, so feel free to teach it to one of your Pokemon if you feel like it. And to help get you started, I’ll transfer 500 League Points to your Rotom Phone. Spend it wisely.”

Roxas did a quick look at the Poke Mart’s inventory, but didn’t find anything he felt like he needed. “Since you have a Rotom…” the clerk said, setting a peculiar magazine on the counter and sliding it forward, “...I’d be happy to sell you this Catalogue for 50 League Points.”

”Catalogue?” Roxas asked, somewhat confused.

“It's an item you can use repeatedly on Rotom to help them change forms on the fly.” He explained, “Very helpful for a trainer who’s raising one, like you are.”

”Really?” Roxas said, then nodded eagerly. ”You got a deal, I’ll take it.”

The clerk grinned and completed the LP transfer, “All yours. Hope you get good use out of it. And good luck in your travels, Trainer.” Both attendants waved Roxas off as he departed with his new items in tow.



Roxas quickly caught back up with the stagecoach as it was departing for the next area on their route.

---

For the first couple legs of the trek, both Roxas and Ganondorf remained mostly stationary. His size and lack of aerial mobility forced the Gerudo King to spend a chunk of time seated within the stagecoach, where he had overheard snippets of conversation that he barely paid any attention to. Roxas, while also lacking aerial mobility, had opted to ride on top of the stagecoach rather than inside it. This at least gave him the vantage to take shots with his RockGun if needed, and be able to spring into action at a moment's notice.

For a while things seemed to be well enough in hand. But they did go a bit sideways when Mokou investigated a swampy body of water that then produced a big aquatic creature, its head around the same size as the stagecoach. Ganondorf clicked his tongue when he heard commotion outside. When he poked his head out to look, the head of the monster reminded him vaguely of the feral River Zoras in Hyrule - although he doubted this was the same thing. Atop the stagecoach, Roxas quickly cast Tailwind and Aeroga on himself. Then he watched in horror as the monster’s hand managed to grab Mokou in the sky. Then he vanished from view.

Barely a moment later, Roxas reappeared right next to the Leviathan’s hand where he tagged it with his StepSword and carried his aerial momentum into a flurry of Keyblade strikes on the hand and wrist to weaken its grip on Mokou so she could break free. ”Wind!” The Nobody was quick to chant, casting a protective Aeroga on Mokou that would halve the damage she took from future attacks for the next 18 seconds. Meanwhile, Ganondorf had pulled his larger frame up onto the Stagecoach roof. His hand snagged one of Mokou’s feathers that had been fluttering around in the air from her previous attacks.

Just like before, the feather ignited him only to proc his Flash Fire ability. ”Burn!” The Warlord barked his warcry as he summoned the Acidic Crystal Spear to his hand. He Bullet Jumped from the stagecoach and jumped again in midair to come plunging down onto the Leviathan’s head with his Warlock Kick. Once he was holding onto it, Ganondorf inhaled and treated the Leviathan to a boosted fire breath attack.

As the Leviathan’s head was trying to buck the Gerudo from it, its hand was trying in vain to snatch Roxas as it previously did to Mokou. But the Nobody was fast, generating a set of virtual cubes to launch himself between using Flow Motion as a way to stay on the move and prove too fast for the lumbering hand to grab. Of course, none of this went noticed. The Leviathan flashed its Eyes of the Storm, resulting in both Roxas and Ganondorf feeling somewhat strange as they were marked by the fishfolk boss.

Then with another movement, the Leviathan performed its Tidal Surge. The hand slapped the water and the head thrashed, generating dangerous waves and sprays of water around it. Ganondorf had no choice to Bullet Jump off the Leviathan’s head back toward the stability of the stagecoach while Roxas was fortunate that his Aeroga was still active to blunt a lot of the damage he would have otherwise suffered. He nevertheless was thrown back to the marshy shore where he staggered back to his feet, not yet ready to give up on this fight. Despite their determination, both Seekers had in fact been marked with a Stress token.

Roxas generated a line of virtual cubes that he could launch to in order to regroup with the stagecoach. As he made it back, Ganondorf had summoned a squad of Moblin Archers behind the stagecoach to shoot volleys of fire arrows at the Leviathan. As much as the warlord’s pride may have wanted him to keep fighting and finish off the Leviathan, he also knew this thing wasn’t actually their target and was simply in the way. So perhaps the prudent thing to do was to merely distract the behemoth long enough for the stagecoach to pass through the area.

The Moblins seemed to be doing the trick for now, managing to draw the Leviathan’s Baleful Gaze toward them. But it still remained to be seen if this alone was going to be enough of a distraction for the stagecoach to finish passing through the area. To that end, both Ganondorf and Roxas kept their guard up, unwilling to leave this to chance. Ganondorf in particular summoned Blast Hornet to take to the sky and let off its Search Strike, reasoning that it would also draw attention away from the stagecoach and hopefully dispel before it could be hit by retaliation.

Said retaliation came in the form of the Leviathan performing Eye of the Storm, marking several Moblins with its baleful gaze. So it seemed to have turned its attention away from the Stagecoach after all. But now that they’d encountered something like this, neither Roxas nor Ganondorf were willing to relax their guard again through the remainder of this trek.

Ft. Sakura and Amateratsu
Words: 2710 (+3)

“There, that’s them! Those cabbage munching monsters wandered out of the jungle just a few days ago, and we haven't been able to do anything about it!”

So said one Mayor Theador as he showed them the problem that the pair of the seekers were here to take a look at. He did so while only poking his head around the corner of the house closest to the infested field, wanting to not go a step closer to the pest problem. Neither did the various farmers, which ment that not only where the crops being devoured, but even what wasn’t wasn’t going to be harvested any time soon either.

As for the cause of the problem, it seems, from a distance, to be a large number of giant tortoises that were slowly plodding around the farm’s fields, munching away on the produce at a slow but steady rate.

”Tortoises?” Sakura said, scratching her head. She had pictured something more monster-like. ”They are pretty big.”

Amateratsu, for her part, took one look at this, one look back at the townsfolk, and then rolled her eyes before brazenly walking into the fields and approaching the nearest of the tortoises. Sakura set her fists against her hips and waited, assuming Amaterasu had some kind of plan.

The cabbage munching reptile turned its head, slowly, to look at the divine wolf as she stopped and stood authoritatively before it, simply assuming that the beast like all others would be able to see her for what she truly was, before barking at it to try and get it to scram.

Her ears drooped when, rather than do so it retracted into its shell instead, only for her ears to spike back up in alarm when said shell began to rapidly spin, and then came flying straight at her.

The divine wolf was smashed backwards, having been taken entirely off guard in her arrogance, and though a stack of godhood took the blow, she could feel how absurdly powerful it had been.

Unslowed by the impact the tortoise flew past where she’d landed, then slowed suddenly in mid air as it came out of its shell and dropped to the ground, landing neatly on its feet as it did so.

”Amaterasu-sama?!” Sakura exclaimed, alarmed at the raw power the shelled behemoth possessed. She began to run over.

Ameteratsu rolled on the ground and flipped onto her paws once more, whirling to face the beast that had knocked her down, only for her to stop suddenly, fur bristling with fear, Behind her, the others saw what she had heard: shell after shell thumping into the ground as the other tortoises reacted to her still standing by coming to their fellows aid.

In only a few heartbeats, the air was filled with armored wrecking balls.

”Ieeeh! Amaterasu-sama!!!” Sakura screamed. ”Tortoises! Tortoises!” Sakura used Tag Out, gaining a burst of speed and giving the divine wolf a speed boost and some health recovery, as long as she evaded instead of attacking. Sakura switched places with the divine wolf and warded off an encroaching turtle with a knockback kick that sent it spiralling off course, where it landed neatly in the cabbage field.

Another turtle hurtled itself towards her, and the street fighter blocked it, though her arms flung off to the side as her guard ki broke. Alarmed, she was smashed into by the next tortoise and landed ass over tea kettle. ”Bwah!” Upside down, she flipped and scrambled back to her feet.

”Hey, what’s going on?! What do we do?!” Sakura said.

“Get rid of them please!” the hiding mayor called out from behind a building. ”I got that much!” She shouted back.

Amaterasu got it as well, and provided her opinion on what they should do by hurling herself back into the fray. Unseen to all, her sun disk rose up and blocked an incoming tortoise that had been coming in as Sakura righted herself, repaying the favor of her Tag Out.

That tortoise was launched upwards by the parry, and the wolf jumped after it, grabbed it by the throat, and then slammed it back down into the ground with force. Then she paused time, and drew a slash across the incoming volley of tortoises, knocking them out of the air, giving her time to charge a mighty sword blow which she cleaved into the one she’d throat slammed, wounding it greatly.

Sakura widened her stance, trying to get this chaos under control with the space and time Amaterasu bought her. She ran forward to one of the tortoises that had gotten knocked out of the air and slid towards it, swiping it across the face with a spin kick. Then she delivered an acrobatic chinbuster kick to pop it up vertically. Then, she just went to slam into it and rush it down onto its back, impaling its own spikes into the soft earth to wedge it there permanently. Or at least so she thought, as another shelled beast hurtled itself towards her. She put the flipped turtle between her and it, and the resulting collision sent her tumbling and the trapped turtle flipped onto its back. After catching herself, she punched the dirt, her attempt foiled. ”There’s just too many of them!”” She complained.

Another turtle zoomed towards the young street fighter. Sakura jumped right over it, and the one after that. Eventually, she got the timing down, and used Mental Connection to zip onto a turtle right as it went underneath her. An invisible psychic string connected to the limited thoughts of the beast, letting her anchor herself to it. She grabbed its ridged shell as stability, and was now belly-to-back prone on the shell, her feet flinging out behind her as it spun.

”Step one, done! Step two…working on it!” Sakura exclaimed.

So was Amaterasu, but keeping out of the way of the turtle volleys was taking most of her focus, making actually attacking them a nightmare. She paused time again to try and get a moment to think, and try and figure a way out of this.

She scanned around for a line she could draw through a set of tortoises, found only a meager grouping due to how chaotic things were and then, in a moment of inspiration, drew a second line.

Rather than slashing the beasts, there was a single second where the field was smothered in a thin mist. In that misty moment, from the perspective of Sakura and the Tortoises, Amaterasu moved unnaturally quickly and a dozen turtles were struck out of the air. From her perspective, meanwhile, the world around her slowed for four seconds, giving her ample time to flick her devout beads out over and over, each blow of the long chain lashing out at a different tortoise.



They hit the ground all at once, peeking out of their shells in confusion, and then a half of those dozen suddenly had a massive cherry bomb sitting in their midst, while Amaterasu barked to try and bring Sakura’s attention to the explosive’s slow burning wick.

”Amazing!” Sakura exclaimed. When she was alerted to the big bomb, her eyes widened. ”Oops!” She rolled backwards towards the back of the shell and pushed herself off it with a leap, sending the monster towards the bomb and propelling herself away from it with one action.

Before the turtle could get away, Sakura fired off an EX-Hadoken, launching a blazing electric fireball towards the bomb to set off the explosion now that she was far away. ”Eat this!”

Tortoise were blasted into the sky (as was a fair amount of dirt and veg) before slamming down here, there and everywhere, and in at least a few cases turning to ash as they perished from the combo move. There were still plenty left, of course, but it was the start of the turning of the tide.

Amaterasu rushed to capitalize on the carnage, rushing towards a fallen tortoise, leaping up, and then bringing her oversized sword down on top of its cracked shell, crashing through it and finding flesh beneath. Then she launched a barrage of beads into another, before having to go back on the defensive as the survivors took to the air again, and the shell-storm ramped back up in intensity, though not quite reaching its initial intensity.

”Do you think we could have tortoise soup after this?” Sakura asked over the sound of mayhem.

As the tortoises approached, Sakura decided to try something different. She jumped over them like normal, feeling more comfortable than she did out in the chaos than she did when it all started. She channeled her ki energy into a Focus, grounding herself. As the tortoises whipped back towards her, she lashed out with Mental Connection, connected to the nearest turtle, and pulled it off course, slamming it into another tortoise and into the ground. Hand out stretched, she did this twice more, using the turtles own power against them as she slammed them into each other and the dirt itself.

”Got anything else to hit ‘em with?” Sakura asked Amaterasu. These monsters had demonstrated enough brutishness and lack of any instinctual self-preservation that Sakura had thought of them as just that- monsters!

The wolf didn’t have anything to hit them with hard, but she did come up with one more trick, which was to whip up a gust of wind that knocked the current volley of tortoises off course such that they sailed past the fighters rather than into them. Mainly however what she did was try and use the reach of her divine beads to tag tortoises to knock them out of the air, close in, and then deliver a sun disk smash to their scally faces for their trouble.

It was slow, methodical, but between them they wore the herd of cabbage munching pests down, each death making things just a little easier. Which was good because the fight was a chaotic mess that worked up one hell of a sweat and a fair share of mental strain on top.

”I’m glad the koopas aren’t here for this.” Sakura said. She looked into the eyes of a giant tortoise and found nothing but the flat, low-resolution desire to munch on cabbage and bowl into anything that moves. It was almost creepy! It wound up to smash into her again, only to hit nothing but air. Sakura scattered them against each other and sent them packing with kiblasts.

”Phew…that was intense. What the heck was their problem?!” Sakura asked. She looked around at the semi-ruined cabbage field. ”Uhh…hmm…” She tapped on her chin, worried.

Right on que, the Mayor finished slowly peeking his head around the corner (his top hat having been in view a full 5 seconds before his face was) and asking “is it over?” before wincing at the sight of the cabbage field with the worried street fighter and panting wolf sitting in it, cloths and fur streaked with dirt and ash.

Still, as he glanced around a bit more, and saw not a tortoise in sight, that wince shifted to a little O of amazement and then a smile as he stepped out and, with a clap of his hands, declared them to be “Spectacular!”

The farmers took this as que to also peek out around the corner. Though one looked absolutely miffed that his cabbage patch had been ruined, the rest burst into a cheer, and then rushed forwards to congratulate the duo. This prompted a dismayed cry of “My cabbages!” from the plot owner as any survivors ran the risk of being trampled.

A bead of sweat, and not one from physical exertion ran down Sakura’s face. She smiled. Big crowds again. At least they weren’t angry this time. ”Oh, haha, it was no problem.” She said as she shook one hand, then another, and another. ”No problem, no problem…no comment, no comment!” It was all starting to get to be a bit much. Maybe Sakura could find an excuse to book it?!

The mayor managed to wade into this gaggle of merry folk while shouting “now now, there’ll be plenty of time for that later! For now, please, we need to salvage as much of the crop that these two- I mean those nasty pests ruined! We have a feast to prepare after all!” and promptly shooing the farmers away.

Once they had some air to breathe, the mayor took off his hat, held it to his chest, and gave a short bow while giving thanks of his own “truly, we are in your debt.”

Amatatsu tried to look as impassive as possible, as if it had been nothing, but her tail was wagging behind her in happiness of the recognition of her good deed, and the Praise it had earned her.

Sakura relaxed. To the mayor, she set her hands at her side and bowed her head. ”You’re really welcome!” She said.

”In terms of reward…it’s food, right? Do you think you could spare enough to put into some kind of package? I’d like to send it to my friends who need it. Don’t worry, I can take care of transport.” She said.

“Oh?” the mayor replied, before a moment of thought agreeing wholeheartedly “of course of course. We’d be delighted to help.”

There was only one caveat, which was simply that it’d be “Once we’ve got a harvest of course. It’ll take a little while to work out what’s salvageable and all that. Could hardly send you away with half chewed veggies of course!”
Sakura smiled and nodded. ”Thank you!”

He gave a little belly laugh at his own joke, before beginning to “in the meantime could I offer you some tea?” before looking them over again and suggesting instead “Oh. Or maybe you’d like to use our local hot springs? Does wonders after a hard day on the field, or so I’ve heard anyway. Certainly helps out these old bones”

”Oh, uh…” Sakura looked at Amaterasu. ”What do you think? Do you like hot springs?”

The divine wolf barked enthusiastically at the notion, forgetting in her enthusiasm that she disliked the one for yes two for no method of communicating she was stuck with.

She looked back at the mayor and shrugged happily. ”I guess that’d be nice!”

“Marvelouse!” the mayor said with another clap of his hands, before giving them directions to the hotspring. Given that it was a fairly small village, these weren't all that complicated.

“Oh and do say hello to Ukee for me!” he added as they began to head off.

”Okay!” She waved as they left. ”Who is that?” She asked loudly, but at this point was kind of far away. ”Do you know who Ukee is?” She looked at Amaterasu, who barked twice for no (with the suitable amount of disapproval for the communication method this time).

The divine wolf supposed they’d find out soon enough.

”...It’s one bark for yes, two for no, right?” Sakura asked. ”Couldn’t you just nod or shake your head?”

Amaterasu looked over and up at her as they walked, and then did her best to shake her head in response to the second part, and looked very uncomfortable as she did so. Plus the snout waving back and forward was much less of a concise motion than it was on a short nosed human. That was all before you got to Amateratsu’s thoughts on the matter which were not going to fit into four word sentences scribbled on napkins.

”No, no, like this!” She wiggles her head back and forth like a dog shaking out water. Or at least, the best human approximation of it.

”Ah, nevermind. I feel like I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking, anyway.” She said, setting her hands behind her head and strolling off with her wolf teammate.

While Mokou was certainly a powerful spellcaster, even she was held at the leviathan’s mercy under the water, unable to break out of its grasp by herself. And although she knew that even drowning wouldn’t kill her permanently (she had tried so before), it was still an unpleasant enough experience that Mokou fought. Thankfully for her, a series of strikes from the party’s Nobody allowed her to break free, launching from the water like a rocket to create distance. Hovering in the air, Mokou spent several moments hacking out her lungs, expelling as much water from her body as possible. Her body, having spent so long being held underwater, was rather weak now… Yet while Mokou could simply incinerate herself and start fresh, the phoenix chose to give her own curse a small reprieve. It was hardly debilitating damage, after all.

Regardless, the phoenix eventually coughs out the remaining water from her lungs, letting out a sigh as she places her hands back into her pockets, her red eyes watching as the stagecoach managed to move past the leviathan. Such a large beast was an issue… Yet it wasn’t their main goal, and with everyone moving past it, Mokou was willing to let its attempt to kill her slide. Thus, she floats back over to the rest of the party, a shimmering orange glow around her as she kept herself warm, mainly to avoid freezing with the water still clinging to her and the cold tundra, “Sorry for the trouble there. Didn’t expect that thing to give me a surprise soak” Mokou comments in her usual, impassive tone, tilting her head to the side as she walked, seemingly making sure that there was no more water stuck in her ears.

While the bot battling contest was in the process of being packed up in the late afternoon, Junior’s phone received a new notification, indicating that he’d been sent a private message via Shinjuku’s inter-knot. It came from a user by the name of MyMondoHaveYou. It read as such:

Salutations. This is Taion, whom you met earlier today. Firstly, allow me to apologize for our conduct earlier. Looking back now, it’s hard to remember why we allowed the fight to escalate to such a dangerous degree, but it’s clear that you did no wrong. Furthermore, whatever you did to us awakened us from whatever trance we were in, jogging our memories. It’s a sobering realization we’ve been given, and we’re still trying to pick up the pieces. We are grateful, though, to have the wool lifted from our eyes, and outraged at the lie we’ve been living. So thank you, kind strangers.

I can only imagine that you offered this method of contact for more than the expression of our gratitude. Whenever we attempt to talk to anyone about what happen, they seem willfully ignorant, not to mention worryingly antagonistic. We want to find our friends, and we are concerned, above anything, for the safety of our daughter. If there’s anything else you could offer us, we would be even deeper in your debt.

”See, told you it’d work” Jr said to his sister who was still reading the message over his shoulder (She hadn’t exactly got a lot of practice as a disposable grunt of the Abyssal Fleet).

One she was done she nodded, and then the two of them went back and forth about how to respond, before finally setting on the following:

Hi!

Yeah, there’s a whole bunch of stuff your gonna need to know eventually, but main ones are this stuff:

1. Yup, anyone with the red light in their eyes isn’t allowed to notice that everything’s messed up right now. Plus they can’t back down from a fight which is why you did what you did, so don’t worry about that. It happens

2. Clover already wasn’t like that and never was, because she’s new instead of stolen. There’s a place for people like her (and you) but don’t wanna say that stuff here. Might be someone’s listening? Dunno if the people who we gotta worry about would bother (seem like kinda lazy badguys) but better safe than sorry right?

3. We’re trying to keep a low profile atm in general. Was why we were doing the cassette beast stuff. You got a good spot where we can meet up and talk without drawing a lot of attention? We’re on the east side of town right now.

Then all there was to do was wait for a reply.

They didn’t have to wait long. Judging by the speed with which Taion issued a reply, he’d been staring at his phone -or equivalent device- since the moment he sent his first message.

If this place for people like Clover is safe, we’re interested and want to know more. We have an apartment in southern Shinjuku, the area called Sotenbori. Just a little farther south than the Shinobi district. If you see the ninja academy with the giant sword on its roof, you’re headed the right way.

K. Be there soon. Will keep u posted Jr typed back quickly after Rika had finished reading, and only then thought to ask Seek what a route would look like to get there.

Fortunately, they were more south east than south, as it turned out, and so it didn’t seem like it’d take that long to make it there, as long as they avoided any sticky situations on the way there.

---

About five minutes later and the pair were in the middle of being blown away by a tornado of bubble gum.

Rika managed to recover thanks to her aerial mobility, but her brother just kept going till he smacked into a wall and got stuck there. The boy heaved and struggled, but it was no use. He was trapped.

Those responsible? A pair of kids who stuck close together, one armed with an oversized sword hammer, and a third armed with an oversized toy drill

Not exactly the gear Jr had expected ninjas to be armed with, and he especially hadn’t expected said weapons to be made out of bubble gum either. Yet here he was, stuck to a wall as a result of that.

”Can I fight them now?” Rika called up to him from where she’d landed on another rooftop, while the kids closed in.

“Nah just give it up!” the hammer wielding boy called out “You might have given the cops the slip, but you were really dumb to step on ninja turf like this!”

The girl with the round sword chose to, instead of talking, to blow a large bubble of gum which she then launched at speed towards Rika. The shipgirl leapt out of the way of this as it was caught in her projectile slowing field, only to be taken by surprise when the drill wielding kid burst out of the ground, having somehow burrowed into and under the roof without actually damaging it.

The strike launched her upwards, with the rocketing up after her to start combo chaining her.

”You can fight, you can fight!” Jr yelled at her as she aim-glided to recover from the launch, but she really didn’t need his permission at this point.

She launched up above the boy’s charge with the featherfall rune while charging her vault breaker, before slamming right back down onto him.

The boy wasn’t lacking in talent however, thrusting the drill up to meet her strike, but the fist smashed through his strike regardless and launched him upwards as a result.

Now below, she flipped around faster than him, and fired her grappling hook up, snagging his shirt and pulling him down into her oversized grasp, palm mounted machine gun pressed to his back.

”without killing them!” Jr belatedly added, prompting her to roll her eyes. As the two other kids closed in, rather than threaten her hostage (a likely pointless act vs the Galeeming anyway) she instead turned him upside down and shook him to empty his pockets.

Out of these fell a colorful container with decoration similar to the hilt of the weapon the drill wielding boy was wielding, which she caught in her gunletted palm.

She then promptly tossed the boy at the other two as she short hopped backwards while trying to open the orb shaped gum pack with her mouth and oversized fingers. The two boys collided as a result, but the girl kept coming, swinging her bat like sword at Rika. She juked out the way, finally cracking open the pod, and getting a piece into her mouth to chew, hoping that the results would be quick.





Copying what the ninja kids had done when they had come to confront them, Rika blew a massive bubble of gum, reached for it, grasped a point, and then whipped it down, forming her own drill beast weapon in her hand. Then, as the sword girl slashed, she brought up the drill to block, perfectly parrying each and every strike with her new weapon.

“What. The. Heck?” the girl complained alongside each parried strike, before demanding to know “how?”

”I’m special” Rika retorted in a moment of ego, before launching herself upwards in between sword blows, only to drill right back down onto the girl, knocking her to the ground.

She had to then leap out of the way again as the hammer boy tossed his weapon, which went spinning over the head of his friend who demanded he be “careful!”

Before the spinning hammer could get back to him, Rika used her grappling hook to pull her and the boy together. She rammed him with the gummy drill before they collided, before tossing him away before the hammer returned to him. After that she practically collided with the drillboy as both weapons buzzed around each other, each failing to find purchase, till she had to leap out of the way of another of the sword girl’s gumshots.

Jr watched this impressive tango go on for a few more moments before finally working out a way to get free. Sort of. The metal mecha hand of his striker Blodia ripped up brickwork as much as it pulled him free of it, but still, free he came before being tossed back towards the fray with a shout of ”Rika catch me!”

His sister did just that, leaping up and grabbing the boy and then touching down lightly thanks to her fall damage negation. It also caused him to get stuck there. For a moment. Then the boy managed to grab his staff that had been stuck just out of reach (but which now was only stuck to a detached brick rather than a wall) and cast ”Esuna!” to wipe away the remaining gum.

”So how are you not gonna kill em?” Rika asked, as she brought up her own solution in defence of her brother as the sword girl came in swinging.

”Like this” Jr replied, before lifting his staff again and casting ”Repose” causing the sword girl’s eyes to shut as she fell instantly asleep. She woke up almost immediately, but that’s because Rika thrust her drill beast forwards into her, knocking her back.

The hammer kid got a forced nap next, and promptly smacked nose first into the ground as a result, which also woke him up (with a nose bleed)

”Oops” Jr said with half a laugh, even as Rika used the opportunity to hit that kid with a gum grenade, leaving him gum bound as a result of taking both a direct hit and two hits of the subsequent 2 second blast.

Rika lunged forwards, seeing opportunity, and with a swift series of drill beast hits followed by one that sent him and her flying forwards propelled by the drill itself, and the end of which the kid was launched straight into the wall Jr had been stuck too, and was in turn trapped there.

She didn’t get time to revel in that victory however, as a shout of ”Sis! Help!” came from behind, prompting her to turn and find her brother running from the other two ninja kids. His spiky shell was stopping them from attacking his back safely, but both were in the midst of pincer maneuvering him as Rika burst out of the ground and took the drill boy by surprise, knocking her away and then going to clash with the sword girl.

That in turn gave Jr time to sleep sword girl, and for Rika to grenade and ippon her, sticking her to a wall as well.

The final ninja kid faced down the koopa kids alone, activated Punishing blade Gum Ninjutsu and prepared to give a heroic shout about how he’d avenge his friends only for him to promptly fall on his sword as Jr cast ”Repose” on him as well.

Rika copycatting his move and springing it on the sleeping child swiftly put an end to any dreams of heroic last stands, as the third of the ninjas ended up stuck to the wall.

Shouts along the lines of “you won’t get away with this” got a reply of ”We totally will!” and a blow raspberry from Jr before he got a ”High five!” from Rika.

After it however, he gave an ”Um” as he looked her up and down.

”Hmm?”

”Well. Uh. Ya see…” Jr said, trying to find a way to get around the issue, before just going out there and saying it ”I think you’ve shrunk”

A brief and heated exchange followed between the boy and the girl who’d become very touchy about her height, until a photo provided by a floating Rotom Phone and a height analysis by Seek of said photo proved the reality of the situation: Rika’d lost a few (physical) years and a fair few more good inches as a result of not reading the ninja gum’s small print of it being “not for people over the ages of 13” in the heat of the moment.

Suffice to say she was not best pleased by this.

Though Nadia managed to not trip over herself on the way back from her sensational dinner at Mesón De Las Flores, nor to be too much of a burden for Primrose, it was clear that the thoroughly inebriated feral was in no state to troop up to the High Tier and go snooping for an abode that befit her newfound affluence. Plus, sticking with the other Seekers just made sense, so before it got too dark outside the two women returned to Banishing Flats. Insisting that she could look after herself from here, Nadia thanked Primrose and bid her good night. Luckily, the Mecha-zangiefs made checking in for the night pretty easy, and after hoisting her key belt like the champion she would soon be, Nadia found her way to her room.

As she shed her jacket and boots, she mused that she now had enough money to actually afford a change of clothes, then idly wondered where she left her shipgirl rigging. Probably at the NMO dojo, right? She’d need to head that way the next morning anyway in order to link up with Robo-fortune before pools began. Nadia couldn’t help but giggle when she remembered the look on Robo’s face when she suggested that her mechanical counterpart accompany her as a kameo to the Mortal Kombat tournament. As vehemently as Robo had protested, though, even she could see the wisdom in the real catgirl’s latest and greatest idea. With a strong zoner like Robo-fortune in her back pocket to enhance her strengths and cover her weaknesses, Ms Fortune would be more unstoppable than ever when it came to rushing her opponents down. Once Annie and Beowolf approved of the idea, there wasn’t much for Robo-fortune to do but sullenly fall in line.

On the way out Robo had not-so-subtly reminded Nadia that if she got eliminated in Mortal Kombat’s Losers’ Bracket it would be her life on the line, which elicited only a cocky snicker. And if you stage a mew-tiny, Nadia had replied, I’ll dismantle you myself, cog sucker!” Of course, the feral knew something that Robo didn’t: that any ‘execution’ of hers was bound to be im-purr-manent. The thought of Robo’s face when she showed up the next day, back from the dead, filled Nadia with smug glee. If she did get eliminated, her replica’s reaction would be a sweet silver lining. That said, Nadia wasn’t planning to lose. Before the week was out, Shao Khan’s reign would come to an end, and the era of catgirls would begin.

Before that, though, Nadia would need one hell of a good night’s rest. After washing up she climbed into bed and passed out within minutes, snoring away without a care in the world, all the trials and trepidations of her first day in Esaka well and truly forgotten.

---

As Zenkichi shared his story, Big Band listened with all the gravitas that his fellow detective’s tale was due. While his companion hadn’t suffered the physical harm that Band had, his was a story of exceptional emotional anguish. Zenkichi spoke of heartbreaking loss, followed by the soul-shattering indignity of being coerced into letting injustice stand, lest he lose what little he had left. Band was no stranger to being forced to turn a blind eye to evil, or to the guttural anger that such despicable acts filled him with. His fellow detective was right; their stories weren’t so different, after all. The only difference had been that Band didn’t think he had anything to lose, and in his attempt to revolt against a repugnant system, he had paid a steep price. Even so, looking back on it, Band was proud that he chose to stand up for his principles. If he had been in Zenkichi’s shoes, though, he probably would have done the same..

During the explanation, Band didn’t fully grasp the intricacies of psychics and changing hearts. He just figured it was Zenkichi’s world’s equivalent of the supernatural abilities from his world, like parasites, living weapons, and so forth. When Zenkichi moved the timeline of his story up to the present day World of Light, though, Band paid attention. As it turned out, while Band had been in Edinburgh MagicaPolis, Zenkichi had been part of the contingent in Midgar, and an old rival had popped up in his path. Although Band disagreed with Konoe’s execution on principle, he couldn’t drum up much sympathy for him. No matter one’s past or ideology, robbing innocents of their unalienable rights made the man a villain, and villains had to be stopped.

When Zenkichi outlined Konoe as the example of a more meta observation, though, Band agreed completely. He stared off into the streets of Esaka’s High Tier, his tired eyes watching each bright-eyed fighter come and go, full of excitement for yet another upcoming tournament. Each person, forced to retrace their steps. “Same old story,” he murmured, his voice low and grave. He cast his mind back to the term used to describe freeing someone from Galeem’s influence. If Seekers like him were ‘de-storied’, then each unwitting pawn in Galeem’s world was ‘storied’, forced to live and relive the same old story that dictated their existence, unable to break the mold he or she had been poured into.

He followed Zenkichi’s gaze toward the Top Tier’s towers, reminded of his mission. “It is crazy,” he agreed after a moment. “It’s sick, and it’s twisted. While poor, innocent folks from countless worlds get ground to dust over and over again, monsters like Moebius and the Skull Heart run rampant, free to claim more lives than ever before.” He thought about Linkle, stuck somewhere in Edinburgh MagicaPolis with only that boy Albedo to keep her sane. How long could one man stand against the infinite malice of the Skull Heart inside Linkle’s chest, and forestall the undead apocalypse she now embodied? If he returned to that island city, would he find a magical metropolis, or a mass grave? “This world’s gotta go,” he said succinctly. Band gave Zenkichi a firm nod. “And startin’ tomorrow, we ain’t gonna let anyone stand in our way.”

With their meals concluded, the two detectives got moving once again. They took roughly the same route back toward Banishing Flats as night fell over Esaka, heralding the end of yet another day in the Endless Now.



When the stagecoach slid into the ice swamp, tensions were higher than usual. With the frigid, briny water over a foot deep around the vehicle, most Seekers couldn’t afford to form a perimeter outside without risking hypothermia, so those who couldn’t fly remained inside. The giant, coffin-like hearse’s prominent lack of windows afforded those within only one, highly limited method of viewing the world outside: through the singular rear door, currently kept open so that the crew could scramble to the stagecoach’s defense at a moment’s notice. Fortunately, the wagon’s size meant that the water fell just short of its floor, so at least leaks wouldn’t be an issue. Outside, the Reindrix didn’t mind the cold, but the water resistance forced them to work twice as hard to haul their load forward, so it was slow going. All this meant that the stagecoach was an easier target than ever, and with only Sectonia, Mokou, and Blazermate aloft to keep the others’ ride safe, it was underdefended as well. With that in mind, those who stepped forward to blaze the trail for the team needed to make their decisions carefully.

Of course, Sandalphon considered using her position as team leader to decide the stagecoach’s course for everyone, but the archangel was still tentative about potentially overreaching her authority. Plus, in an enclosed area like this icy, saltwater swamp, the situation could change at the drop of a hat, so while she could gather information indirectly using her powers and arbitrate from there, it would be more efficient to trust in the reflexes and judgement of the capable professionals alongside her.

Unfortunately, there was no good choice among the options presented to Edward. To the right, the snowfield would guarantee a run-in with the fearsome, ogre-like Goss Harag, or the angry, sleep-inducing baggi, or perhaps even both. The leftward path lacked obvious threats, but there was definitely something dangerous in the water, as the preponderance of clean-picked bones in the area could attest. That left the center route, which featured the tempting proposition of a shipwreck filled with loot. When Edward directed the stagecoach across the threshold, however, a wall of uncanny blue and black fire erupted too suddenly to avoid. Pushing through it inflicted no burns on either the Reindrix or the stagecoach, but for a moment it rattled the walls of each Seeker’s psyche, and even when the horror abated it did not fade completely. Something remained, subtly but foul, like black mold in the grout between shower tiles. That subtle hint of dread was loathsome, but it was only a whisper. For now.

Still, it drove Sandalphon to make an executive decision. Even if its effect could not be properly quantified, the Seekers would be better off if they avoided the Loathing from now on. Cracked wheels and dented armor panels could be replaced; there was no telling what the darkness could do if the heroes let it in.

A few Seekers split off to loot the shipwreck, then the mineral-rich cove, while Edward provoked a couple of serpentine monsters up ahead. He managed to turn their soporific fumes against them, and after a moment the Ace Cadet, Ramattra, and Tenna sallied forth to keep them busy. Once their skirmish kicked off, the stagecoach slunk by and toward a larger, seemingly safe section of the swamp, where Heismay saw an opportunity in the waters. It felt a little absurd to go fishing in a dangerous area when he could be looking to the team’s safety instead, but on a campaign like this there probably wouldn’t ever be a time and place for his hobby–not unless he made one. He found a shelf of rock overlooking the shallow pool to fish from, cast his baited hook, and settled in to wait.

By that time, Mokou had engaged the Leviathan that had risen from the depths of the lake. At first blush the white-haired hotshot seemed like an ideal opponent for it, able to fly beyond its reach and rain down fire plumes from above. What did Vulnerable tokens matter if she never got hit, after all, and what did Blind tokens matter for individual projectiles when she had dozens if not hundreds more where that came from? In the end, though, Mokou wasn’t quite as above this opponent as it seemed, and her overconfidence led to a ruthless snatch that plunged her beneath the bitterly cold brine.

When Roxas and Ganondorf jumped to Mokou’s defense, however, they made a critical misstep. In the middle of the stagecoach’s attempt to discreetly slip by the conflict, the two decided to use it as staging ground and refuge in order to avoid a disadvantageous dip in the chilly water. When the Leviathan turned its cold fury their way, its gales and waves rocked the stagecoach. “Direct its attention away from us!” Sandalphon ordered sharply. “The expeditionary vehicle is not cover!” After a few moments the two succeeded in diverting the snaggle-toothed menace’s attention elsewhere, but by then the stagecoach armor had incurred further damage.

Once Edward kicked the Reindrix into overdrive, though, the stagecoach was home free. It rolled up out of the water and onto the snowy Midnight Walk on the far side of the ice swamp, where the passengers could briefly wait for the other Seekers to rejoin them. Among the returners was Heismay, with a fresh catch of two icefish and one toothfish, though one of the icefish looked a little weird, with miniature constellations of light stitching together the fins and bones of its body. The eugief seemed pretty happy, though. “Let us hang them from the strange rat’s cage to dry in the cold wind,” he said before giving the aberrant icefish a dubious look. “Though…truth be told, I am not keen to eat this one.”

The team had a more important matter to attend to, though. Following Mokou’s rescue, it was a perfect chance to finally free the half-dead heroine with a friend heart, and after Sandalphon recommended that the team do so, Blazermate obliged. The lightshow was over in an instant, and with it went the delusions clouding Mokou’s mind. Her new allies would have a lot of explaining to do, but fortunately they had a lot of ground to cover. Once everyone was reunited, the crew could set off between the rows of burnt matchsticks that led them ever onward. If stress simmered within the minds of those who’d faced the Leviathan, perhaps they’d find solace in the soothing song of the stagecoach’s windchime.



Some time later, the Seekers’ stagecoach finally drew near to the massive complex of Spire 04, though it would be a while longer before anyone could consider stepping foot inside the space elevator. According to a map printed out on a large roadside signpost, any prospective visitors would need to enter the Orca Space Complex, enter some sort of tunnel-like structure called a hypertube, pass through the Space Logistics Complex where all the passengers and freight bound for space were sorted out, and finally penetrate the Raphael Space Center itself before the space elevator could be accessed, assuming anyone even wanted to. If nothing else, it looked like the Seekers could exit Spire 04 on the other side of the space center, and continue on their way to Moon Mountain. Though taking this route seemed daunting at first glance, it turned out -just as Sandalphon suspected- that the heroes didn’t have much choice in the matter if they meant to continue following the Midnight Walk; their path led straight toward the sprawling facility ahead of them, with deep, rocky gulches full of icy water running toward the Leviathan’s lake everywhere else.

Unfortunately, even reaching the first step in the journey ahead of them would be tricky thanks to the canyons carving up the land. “The bridge!” Heismay called down from his makeshift crow’s nest on the roof. “It’s out, there’s no way across!”

Anyone who looked just down the road -which now looked more like a highway- could see the truth of his words. The latter half of the bridge that led straight to the Orca Space Center’s main gate had broken off and collapsed into the valley. That section did look remarkably intact as it lay down there, the arched roadway tilted upward at a thirty-five degree angle, but that didn’t do the Seekers much good. Fortunately, what remained of the broken bridge provided a good vantage point from which Heismay could survey the scenery, and it did not take long for his bright, ruby-red eyes to spot an alternative path despite the Highlands’ gloomy evernight.

“Down there, perhaps!” he called again, pointing into the gulch toward the east. Not too far down below, a dam had been installed in the glacial waterway, perhaps to generate hydroelectric power for the Spire 04 facilities. The sloped, grooved surface beneath the dam’s spillway formed a controlled, artificial waterfall that limited the flow of water through the canyon, and the dam’s crest -safely nuzzled between rock walls on each side- effectively spanned the gap to form a second, far more stable but less accessible bridge. Its parapet walls meant little risk of falling off the sides, as well.

Sandalphon had stepped out from the stagecoach before it came to a stop on the broken bridge in order to survey the landscape for herself, and after a thorough look around she could see the wisdom in Heismay’s suggestion. It would be tough going, but they had little choice, and from here the archangel could see what looked like a rough, but usable path down toward the dam amidst the snow and rocks. Getting the team’s vehicle down there in one piece would be Edward’s greatest challenge yet as stagecoach driver, but she had no doubt that it was a miracle he could make happen. “I recommend that everybody disembark,” she advised the team. “This is going to be bumpy.”

“Not to mention dangerous,” Eve declared as she stepped out from the stagecoach, her heels clicking on the asphalt roadway. She and Adam had trusted the Seekers to see them safely to their destination on the way here, but now that the two had reached the outskirts of Spire 04 it was their time to shine. Though Adam seemed reluctant to take the field himself, he had deployed a one-eyed drone to accompany her, which floated by her side as she approached the bridge’s wall and leaned over it to peer into the valley. “This is Naytiba territory. We can expect to find heavy opposition.”

At approximately the same time, Sandalphon and the drone both launched a scan, the former with her pupils ringed like a radio scanner and the latter with a probing pulse. Between the two of them, they quickly pointed out a number of hard-to-spot enemies hidden around the dam. “There, there, there, and there,” Adam declared, speaking through the drone. Evidently he would be staying aboard the stagecoach despite Sandalphon’s warning. “Looks like it’s primarily machine-type Naytibas.”

“Naytibas whose flesh have infested and taken control of man-made robots in a sort of parasitic relationship,” Eve explained.

Adam sighed. “Guess there’s no limit to what their rapid evolution can do.”

Keen to learn more, Sandalphon brought out her rifle to make use of its scope for a closer look. Sure enough, there were a number of machines in the dam’s vicinity, all sporting rather disgusting signs of organic infestation. Standard droids, whether armed with just a superheated blade or kitted out with a red plasma shield, looked as if they had fleshy guts spilling out of their bellies. Quadrupedal houndborgs patrolled large areas in small groups, endowed with additional tentacled limbs, and anyone who planned to assault choke points from a distance could expect sentryborgs top return fire with miniguns and missiles. They weren’t too numerous or organized, so Sandalphon judged that her team could handle them with Eve’s help, but on average these would definitely be tougher nuts to crack than Krat Zoo’s carcasses. And if the past was any indication, there would be a couple remarkable specimens tucked away around the most important parts of Spire 04, just waiting for hapless heroes to wander in and try to complete their objectives.

“Let us proceed,” she announced. “We need to clear out everything in the stagecoach’s way to see it through safely. I’ll stay up here to provide fire support, but I will avoid firing at will to preserve your element of surprise. If anyone wants me to take a shot, just give me a call. Reach out if you need healing, as well.” With Blazermate going down alongside the others, though, she did not anticipate that her restorative miracles would be needed for a while.

“Understood.” Heismay hopped down from the roof of the stagecoach. Though no leader, the eugief had no qualms with taking initiative when it came to following orders, and Eve did not hesitate to join them. In a steady jog they retraced the path of the stagecoach back down the Midnight Walk to the base of the bridge, then diverted from the road to descend along the rocks. They passed beneath a couple of large pipes alongside the bridge, then veered right to navigate among the large rocks.

It wasn’t long before they encountered their first Naytibas, a couple of houndborgs stationed along a small, gravelly tributary to the reservoir above the dam. They were relatively isolated, so Eve put a finger to her lips as she pulled out her high-tech hairpin, which transformed into a swordblade that perfectly conveyed her intent. Heismay gave a nod, then crept into position alongside his new comrade. After she came to a stop atop an outcrop directly above one houndborg, Heismay hopped over the little canyon to get close to the other. With the Highlands as dark as night, he did not need to worry about his shadow giving him away.

Once both were ready, Eve launched her assault and plunged her blade into the houndborg from above, then flipped off with her weight behind her blade to tear its core out in one stroke. Taking careful note of where she hit the thing, Heismay followed suit the next moment. His longsaber’s blade slipped between armor plates, cracked circuit boards, and pierced abhorrent flesh, and the next second he finished off the stricken Naytiba with a wrenching cleave. As both monsters turned to ash his boots splashed into the creek’s frigid, and he tried not to wince as he gave a nod at Eve. These were kills worthy of the assassin archetype. “Well struck.”

“Thanks.” Without another word the woman moved on, so Heismay did as well, taking a different, higher-elevation route toward the dam where the bulk of the fighting would take place, all under Sandalphon’s watchful gaze.

Band's commiseration had, perhaps paradoxically, bolstered Zenkichi's spirits a little. Awkward interactions around the table with Nadia aside, it was heartening to be reminded that he had kindred spirits within the Seekers. Nadia was fun, Geralt was a consummate professional with a reluctant heroic streak, and Sakura was a pure ray of sunshine, but he and Band had a lot of shared feelings and ideals that helped remind the eldest Phantom Thief that he wasn't alone here, even as far from the other Thieves as he was.

As they returned to Banishing Flats, Zenkichi bid Band a good night before making his way into the small park that the other detective-turned-Skullgirl Hunter had played in, finding a bench to sit upon. Looking out at the dwindling foot traffic, he smiled before bringing his finger to his ear and speaking. ”Hey, Sands. How are things going over on your team's end? We actually managed to locate the Guardian in Esaka…well, the Guardians, apparently. The Four Kings are more than just in charge of the martial arts tournaments it seems.”

“Interesting,” Sandalphon’s voice replied. “Progress in the Frozen Highlands is good. We decided this morning that drawing the Guardian to us would be more prudent than attempting to chase him down, and are bound for a suitable destination. I estimate our expedition to be approximately fifty percent of the way to the goal.” The archangel spoke as if delivering a mission report, clinical and deadpan. “Although two of our number were forced to retreat, we have not suffered any casualties. In fact, we have gained several new recruits.” Only after a few moments did Sandalphon consider that Zenkichi might want more from her than a succinct status update. Nevertheless, as the Seekers’ elected leader she could not shirk her own responsibilities, so she returned the detective’s question. “Does your team have a plan in mind for the deposition of these Four Kings?”

”I'm glad nobody's been hurt, then.” Zenkichi replied first, nodding at the information Sandalphon was reporting. ”I'd have hated to hear anybody was lost. We've picked up a few new recruits on our end, as well. Harry found his partner from his world, and we recruited a local fighter named Terry. We're planning to join the tournaments to fight through the ranks and earn an audience and chance to fight each of the Kings, and take them down all at once so they don't have a chance to come back. On that note, there is something strange about Esaka. It seems like killed fighters are returning to life extremely quickly, so much so that there's a tournament where the losers are, quite literally executed publicly, but are fine in a day or two. The locals are chalking it up to spectacle, but from what Sakura and Terry have said…I don't think its just special effects. I think Moebius is manipulating the system to bring people back quickly enough to hide that they're actually dying.”

The call was quiet for a brief moment as Sandalphon thought. “If this seemed like the most viable solution, the odds are highly stacked against Gold Team. The failure of even one person could render the entire endeavor moot, and if your foes catch on to your intentions, you may not get a second chance.” It sounded like victory in Esaka involved a much more difficult set of conditions than in Midgar. Sandalphon found herself hesitant to ask for the specifics of the upcoming tournaments, lest she actually become able to calculate his abysmal the Seekers’ chances were. Instead, she tried to pivot toward the other matter Zenkichi mentioned. “It stands to reason that the prolonged existence of Moebius would drive its members to seek as efficient a system as possible for the slaughter and harvest of their livestock. If Esaka’s Flame Clock runs not on the flames of other colonies, but instead cannibalizes itself like a serpent eating its own tail, such an endless source of sustenance and entertainment may very well represent a ‘perfect example’ of what Moebius desires. They won’t part with it lightly.”

Zenkichi couldn't bring himself to disagree with Sandalphon's assessment of their odds. ”Yeah, it's…not ideal, to say the least. I think some of the others just want to get involved in the tournament for the sake of the fight, but there is a legitimate snag in any attempts to attack them directly: The city is apparently protected by a sort of metaphysical spirit of fair play, at least as far as the tournaments go. And if the Four Kings are really the Guardian like the Organization XIII member said they are…well, there's no reason they or Moebius couldn't take advantage of that. I fully expect the Consuls to try and ambush us the night before our fights with the Kings, assuming we all get that far.” Cynical, perhaps, but they'd directly stood in their way against the Gravemind and against the Guardians of Midgar and apparently the Under. It would be foolish not to prepare. ”Speaking of Organization XIII, I asked them about the ten-year limit, to see if they had any knowledge about getting around it. They just said that beating Galeem is the only way around it if you're already in the system. So, nothing there yet. I'm not sure if using a Guardian Spirit does anything on that front either, but it apparently being split among four people is so strange that I don't even know what form it might take.”

“It seems like it would be inconvenient for Moebius and Galeem if their Guardians expired every ten years,” Sandalphon remarked. She could extrapolate that the matter that really interested Zenkichi wasn’t Guardian longevity, though, but the newly revealed conundrum that now troubled them both. In theory the archangel had good news on that front, but she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell Zenkichi. There was no guarantee that her plan would work, after all. “I inquired with several others about various methods of cheating death in other worlds,” she told him. “No definitive answer yet. One individual I met, Mokou, claims to be ageless and immortal thanks to an irreplaceable tonic called the Hourai Elixir, but there is every indication that the ten-year limit has claimed her life in the past. Extending one’s lifespan is not the solution, since one’s lifespan has no relevance to the limit. Such an end is more like erasure than death; the product of an external ‘off switch’ than anything biological.”

Sandalphon paused briefly. “I was fortunate enough, though, to have discovered one possible lead. I am taking steps to investigate further.”

Zenkichi took a long, slow breath, reminding himself not to get ahead of himself. A lead was just that: a lead. It was good that she'd made better progress on that front than he had, though. ”That's good to hear. I hope it goes somewhere, but I'll be keeping my eye out and see if I find anything. I figure Nadia's sort of immortality deal would work just like that Mokou girl, good for avoiding being killed outright, but no help against the time limit.” What happened to Band wouldn't be of help here, either, he figured, as he'd only had much of his body replaced by machinery. More like getting a bunch of prosthetic parts than an actual body transfer or life extension. And it wasn't like she could go and join Moebius. Consul S was still alive onboard the Avenger, and from what happened to Peach, it seemed like one had to die to join Moebius. That was, for obvious reasons, a risk he wasn't willing to ask her to take, nor did he believe Sandalphon would want to take it.

”There…was one other specific thing I wanted to talk to you about. Unrelated to the campaign. It's been weighing on me for a while now, and today really made it hit home. In my world, on Earth, there were a lot of different video game series. Pretty popular, and Japan made a lot of them, some of the earliest and most famous series. Things like Super Mario Bros, where a pair of red and green wearing plumbers saved Princess Peach from the evil Bowser, or Pokemon, where trainers would collect and battle each other with fantastical creatures that they captured in Poke Balls. Like…what Geralt and Roxas have. Here, in the World of Light. And I know for a fact that at least two of the tournaments here are named the exact same thing as the most famous arcade games from my world: Street Fighter and Mortal Kombat. I know, not exactly original names, but spelling Kombat with a K isn't the first thing you'd come up with. And for a while there, I was freaking out because somehow I wound up in a world with fictional characters? And that got me thinking all sorts of crazy things about what that means for my existence, all of our existences here…” Zenkichi paused to take a breath and re-center himself. ”But…I decided that it doesn't really matter how that came to be. We're all here. We're all part of this world now, we all live, breathe, fight, hope, eat, sleep, dream, we fall in love, have families…it's all real, no matter where we came from. Sorry if that was really weird and out of nowhere, but like I said, it was weighing on me a lot, and I needed to get it off my chest. And I feel like I needed to hear myself say it, too.”

The two experienced a brief lull in the conversation before Sandalphon responded, her tone as officious as ever. “As far as I’m concerned, the existence of the World of Light is strong evidence for what’s commonly referred to as the ‘multiverse theory’, which states that reality exists in the form of infinite alternate universes. If this theory is true, it means that any variation is possible in some universe or another. Perhaps, in some universes, you and I only exist in games. Maybe others are just stories in ours. I have heard of other Sandalphons in the World of Light, for instance, several of them male. Nations called the United States and Japan existed in the world of Senator Armstrong and the Winds of Destruction, just as in yours, but I doubt you’ve heard of the Patriots, or they of the Phantom Thieves of Hearts.”

Before she could get too side-tracked with examples, she focused on Zenkichi’s endpoint. “So yes, there is no need to apologize. I am in agreement with your conclusion. Whatever our origins, we are here now, alive, and no less real than anyone else.” She paused briefly, her voice hardening. “Never bow before nihility, Zenkichi. Not even Moebius, who treat all lives as their playthings, truly believe in nihility. They are merely the most selfish and afraid, each believing that out of everything, only their lives matter. Our rebellion against nihility is choosing to believe that everything matters. I know you care a great deal, and I am glad. As long as we care, anything is possible.” She inhaled as her voice dropped. “At the same time, though, we must defy Moebius, the fear of loss that swindles us out of our futures. If my research does not pan out, you may have to let me go.”

Zenkichi nodded to himself as Sandalphon replied about the various worlds. It wasn't an absurd theory, and Geralt had mentioned something about multiple worlds colliding in his world's last, so there had to be something to it. Her stark warning earned a smile from Zenkichi. Her words sounded so grave, but he felt, or maybe imagined, the care they belied. ”Never again.” He promised. ”I wasted enough time hiding and waiting. Enough time wondering what the point was. And…if it doesn't work out…I promise I won't give up again. We both deserve better than that.” Despite the painful subject, Zenkichi couldn't help but smile. ”I'm glad you care, Sandalphon. It means so much.” He replied, softly.

“Of course,” the archangel replied. “And rest assured, while I have no intention of embodying Moebius, I will not give up my life easily. Our bond means a great deal to me as well. I…” She paused briefly, her tone slightly awkward for the first time, as if she were having trouble finding the right words. “...Stay safe, Zenkichi. Though we are far apart right now, we must hold one another together.”

”You, too, Sands. I can't wait to see you again, once we've dealt with these Guardians.”

“Likewise.” Zenkichi could hear the sound of her inhale, then exhale before she spoke again. “Good night.”

”Goodnight, Sandalphon.” Zenkichi replied, pulling his hand from his ear with a small smile. He felt much better after that talk, and he could let the others know in the morning that White Team had been making good progress in their own Guardian hunt.

As they’d agreed earlier, Terry guided Yayama to one of the dining places around the Mid Tier, and it was the Sakazaki family’s very own Kyokugen BBQ. It was a fairly new restaurant situated right next to the Fatal Fury Dojo, just a couple of feet across from the prior alleyway. After crossing the quiet street together, Terry approached the entrance, his leisure strides falling just in front of the lalafell’s. The front doors glided out of each other rather reflexively, paving way for the two Seekers to step in.

“Yup! This right here is the place,” Terry introduced to Yayama, his open hand gesturing forward. “Yeah, I know, it might not be that crowded around here, but it’s quite cozy, don’t you think? Calm and cozy, yeah… The food ain’t that shabby, either. I tell you what, they got the best steaks and wheat noodles ’round the Mid Tier.”

As he yapped, Terry took a pensive glance around his surroundings, noticing that the restaurant seemed to be slightly quieter than it was the last time he paid a visit. Granted, he couldn’t remember the last time he ever hung out at Kyokugen BBQ, but he knew for sure that it used to be packed from corner to corner. So much had changed since its grand opening. He remembered when the interior used to contain a number of Kyokugen Dojo’s leftovers on display the last time he visited the now neatly maintained restaurant, such as the scrubbed training schedules on the walls and a handful of scrolls strewn all over the place. After all, this restaurant was supposed to be a rival dojo to the Fatal Fury Dojo, but much like the latter before the failed comeback, it was discontinued following the Kagura Enterprises’ buyout.

Nightmares do come true, huh, Ryo? For both of us…

He could still remember the face that his rival made when he started deprecating himself the last night they talked. Even though he tried as best as he could to hide the pain, he knew that Ryo was still hurt about his dojo’s closure even after years had passed. As much as Terry was against the notion of Geese running the newly revived Fatal Fury Dojo, Ryo, too, was against his family’s decision to give up on their dojo business and turn it into something they believed to be more profitable. The restaurant business did work almost as expected, surely, yet Ryo was never satisfied. He was more devastated than he was grateful. After all, he’d dedicated his whole life to master and teach his father’s Kyokugen style of karate to upstart fighters—even managing to reach the pinnacle of karate by earning the title of the second Mr. Karate—and for what? For nothing. His achievements felt even more hollow now that his team had rarely advanced past the Pools in every KOF tournament.

As he strolled further, Terry broke out of his reverie when an intriguing sight welcomed him. It was a display of strength, demonstrated by one of Ryo’s best students working for his family’s restaurant. The gi-clad man with dark pompadour was in the midst of finishing his ‘Bottle Breaking’ challenge when the brawny blonde arrived—the dojo’s tradition that the former still performed even after its closure. With a bare knife hand, he chopped the tops of every beer bottle provided to him on the counter, crushing them all at once and spoiling their alcoholic contents. Some might say that it was for a show, but in actuality, the Kyokugen practitioner was merely practicing for the day his mentor recruited him to his Team Art of Fighting.

At the demonstration, Terry went “woahhh…” for a moment before whistling and waving a bandaged hand at the familiar fellow. “Yo, Marco! Nice chop!” he complimented him. “Sounds like Ryo’s taught you well, huh? I’m impressed!” Yayama nodded after he spoke, indicating her own appreciation of the display.

Marco—already noticing Terry’s earlier reaction—inhaled deeply, then took a karate stance, subsequently hunching his shoulders in front of the fellow bruiser. He tightened his black belt, a smile partly showing. “Heh. I see… If it isn’t the so-called Legendary Wolf, my master’s greatest opponent!” he reciprocated with a raised, enthusiastic voice. “Looks like you now know the power of the Kyokugen fist. What can I help you, Terry?”

“Oh, not much,” Terry said, his darting head gesturing at the empty table behind him. “Why don’t you get over here and take our orders? We’re starvin’ right now.”

Marco—still with a smirk below his moustache—surprised both Terry and Yayama by leaping past the counter, bare feet touching the tiled floor simultaneously. He approached both Seekers, hands holding a pen and a small notebook each.

“Well, then, take a seat,” Marco told them, gesturing at the prior table with his pen. Terry allowed Yayama to sit first before he eventually did right across from her position. “Let’s see… what can I get for you two, eh?” He briefly snickered, standing next to their table. “Well, it looks like the Legendary Wolf’s got a little daughter now, hasn’t he?”

Terry chuckled, waving his bandaged hand down dismissively. “Nah… She’s just a good friend,” he revealed, then took a brief look at a menu book provided on the table, flipping every page. Even without checking each of the delicacies listed, he’d already known what he came here for. “And y’know the deal, Marco. Just make me a flank steak and a glass of cold beer, is all. Say, what about you, Yaya?”

“The decorated war hero aiming at retiring from all this world-saving business soon will have the same steak he’s having,” the lalafell said pointedly in the direction of Marco. “And just get me some water to drink, if you may.” She trusted Terry, of course, but not necessarily any of his friends enough to order something that could mask the odor or taste of a sedative. “Oh, and I’ll take the steak medium rare. No need to mask the natural flavors.”

Terry smiled, amused by the way Yayama spoke. “Well, that’s a fine speech there, buddy,” he complimented before darting his sky-blue eyes back at the Kyokugen practitioner. He pointed a thumb at the knight. “You heard her, Marco. Get my friend a medium rare steak and some water, alright?”

“Yosh! Noted,” Marco reciprocated, then wrote down everything that Terry and Yayama had told him, taking notes of the latter’s special request to keep the natural flavors as they were. He drew his shoulders up—a gesture similar to a shrug. “Anything else?”

“Hmm… I guess that’s all,” Terry said to Marco, peering over Yayama, “right, Yaya?” She nodded in response.

Marco smirked. “Heh. Well, then!” he slightly exclaimed, tucking the pen behind his ear. “These won’t take long. I’ll get them done as soon as possible. Right now, why don’t you enjoy our band’s performance over there?”

As the goofy Kyokugen practitioner struck his thumb out, Terry followed where he was gesturing at, his keen gaze eventually falling upon the not-so-sizable stage situated farther ahead of them. There, he caught a clear glimpse of a familiar young lady entering with her trademark hair band and flowing violet hair, her beautifully adorned maid outfit nearly matching the color of his eyes. Surrounding her on the stage was her own band, and among her bandmates was another familiar figure with curtained brown hair hurriedly swallowing a comically large meat dumpling in his hand. The brunette seemed to act as the guitarist for the famed idol, as he started readjusting his electric guitar not long after.

Terry—recognizing who the fellow KOF participants were—gave both the idol and the guitarist a big, warm wave from his table, his lips parting in a broad smile. He was so fixated on the upcoming performance he didn’t notice that Marco had returned to the counter to prepare his and Yayama’s orders.

“Hi, Athena! Hi, Kensou!” Terry greeted, his voice slightly muffled by the next wave of customers occupying the restaurant.

Seeing Terry, Athena returned the warm welcome with a light yet gracious waving hand, her smile nearly as wide. “Oh, hi, Terry!” she called back through the mic in her hand, her voice softly echoing. “I hope you enjoy the show.” She giggled. As for her boyfriend, Kensou, he only gave Terry a nod and a thumbs up since he wasn’t holding a mic to allow him to talk back from a far, managing a wider smile that left his teeth bare.

If the advertisement shown by the gigantic banner he came across earlier was to go by, Athena was, indeed, scheduled to perform at the Kyokugen BBQ as part of her ongoing ‘Athena In Wonderland’ tour. Somehow, just seeing her band in action took him back to the brighter, better days of the past. While brief, he still remembered when he, Athena, and several other KOF participants formed The Band of Fighters in their leisure times with Athena acting as the lead singer and Terry as the drummer. Although it didn’t really take off, the band did garner quite a sizable fanbase even years after they’d been disbanded. Then, the World of Light happened, and none of his former bandmates remembered that BOF was a thing. It couldn’t help when he didn’t have the best relationship with one of the band’s guitarists in his second life.

As Athena danced and sang her hit song, Terry shifted his attention back at the new acquaintance sitting right across from him, beginning to yap again as they waited for their orders. “The song rocks, don’t you think? The good ol’ J-Pop track that’ll just lighten the mood up a bit,” Terry remarked, subconsciously swinging his head a little. Even though he was more of a rock and country guy, he could always appreciate good music when he heard one, regardless of the genres. “So, how was your world? I honestly had no idea I reminded you of your lady.” He grinned, nearly giggling, amused by the thought.

“Well, depends on which part you mean. I’ve been all over and then some, from Ul’dah all the way to Garlemald, to the moon, and even to the end of the universe. Do you wanna hear about where I’m from? Weirdest place I’ve been? Petra’s home? I’m an open book and I love the sound of my own voice, so ask away.”

Terry slightly scratched his temple at some of the places mentioned by Yayama. They sounded alien to his ears, but that was to be expected. After all, they came from two radically different realities with different sets of rules.

“Oh, man… Now I dunno what to start with,” he admitted with a giggle. “Sounds like you’ve been through more adventures than I have if you’ve been to the ends of the universe. What were your adventures like, though? Bet they were fun, weren’t they?”

It was evident that the brawny blonde wasn’t expecting himself to meet somebody more adventurous than he was. He’d been traveling to all sorts of places in both his prior and subsequent life, but never to the ends of the universe. And judging by the latter words that came out of the lalafell’s mouth, she seemed quite delighted to recall the stories from her own world as much as he would’ve loved to recall his own.

“Terrifying, mostly. At first for myself, but most of it was for the people I was fighting for. I hadn’t exactly expected to be facing down primals, at least not in a way that didn’t immediately result in my being immediately tempered. Primals being, essentially, manifestations of gods given form through belief and aether, by the way. It was take them down or be killed myself. Worse, if it was the latter, then they’d come for everyone else. I couldn’t stand the thought of my family being tempered or enslaved by the Garlean Empire.”

“Fun, though. . . Yeah, I’d probably have to say that. Between the mortal terror and fights to the very brink, you see a lot of things and meet a lot of people. Tell you what, there’s not a lot funnier than watching a posh Ishgardian noble who thought foreigners were no better than beasts six weeks ago try to negotiate trade agreements with gobbies without putting both feet in his mouth.” She laughed a bit at the memory.

“I’d be lying if the thrill of battle wasn’t part of the appeal, too. I’m pretty sure I don’t need to explain to you how satisfying it is to overcome a challenging opponent in combat, or how alive you feel after a brush with death. I’m a damn good fighter, and proud of it, even if I’m not exactly the most suited to a martial arts arena.” Yayama didn’t exactly try to hide that her loss to Sakura was still on her mind, somewhere in the mix of concerns, though it didn’t seem to bother her. “Sometimes you meet people who are too into it, though.”

“I think the worst thing I ever encountered was Zenos. He was also a lot like Petra, but in all the wrong ways. I hated it, she hated it. The man only cared for combat. Every word he said, every step he took, every breath and every action was in service of finding a fight that could actually challenge him. He had no morals, no loved ones, nothing but the hunt, as he called it. He would kill without any thoughts save for how disappointingly trivial it was for him. I wish we could have left him there, at the end of the end, to really think about how hollow his existence was.”

Yayama sighed. “So, I suppose the short answer to ‘what was it like’ is nothing. I can’t compare anything in that decade to the time that came before it, not really. That answer your question?”

“Well… I guess?”

Face dropped, voice trailing off, Terry lowered his gaze in an almost contemplative manner. It appeared that living in Yayama’s shoes didn’t sound as exhilarating as he would’ve imagined, and he felt sorry about that. As horrifying as all the conspiratorial events taking place within the KOF tournament series were, at least he didn’t have to worry about savage creatures lurking around the corners of his hometown every now and then. Thankfully, there was no such thing as the ‘primals’ in his world, but it wasn’t to say that it was vastly better than hers was, either.

“Gosh, I dunno… Just the thought of being hunted down by some god-gifted creatures sounds scarier than it is fun, I think. That’s just more intense than having to survive a city ruled by criminals. And that Zenos guy you told me? He sounds a hell lot like the guy who killed my dad and Lily many years back, but even… worse! I know Geese. He can still show a bit of decency when he wants to, especially when it comes to his loyal followers,” he remarked, lifting his gaze upon Yayama again. Now was his turn. “And as for me? Well, as you could probably tell, I lived in a world where everybody was addicted to competitions. I’d been to a lotta places, too, back in my first life. I’d faced some of the toughest fighters around the world and even won tourneys after tourneys as years went by. Can say that I was having a blast for the most part before… all of this happened.” His gesturing hands stuck out as if to emphasize his point. “Hell, as much as I dislike how South Town’s turned into, I’d be lying if I didn’t miss my world. Like, absolutely, I’d do anything if that means bringing back all those memories I shared with Andy, Joe, Mary, Mai, my rookie, and several others. But then again, you shouldn’t dwell on the past, should you? What’s comin’ is better than what’s gone, they said…”

When Kim came with the thunder god of Mortal Kombat himself, Raiden, Terry returned his waving hand, his smile a little wide. “Yo, Kim! You’re comin’ with us, too?” he asked, his voice muffled by the cacophony of noises caused by the visitors and the music performance.

Kim found it hard to hear what Terry had said. He didn’t want to holler back because Terry wouldn't be able to listen to what he was saying. He excused himself from the table. Raiden didn’t seem to mind Kim leaving to speak to his friends. The detective made his way over towards their table. Taking a moment to look over at Yayama. He didn't know who they were or if they were a Seeker. ” Nice to see you again, Mr.Bogard. I’m sorry, but what did you say?” Kim turned to Yayama. ”Hello I am Detective Kim Kitsuragi. Pleasure to meet you.” Kim extended his hand out for Yayama to shake.

Yayama returned the handshake, with a perhaps over-firm grip. “Yayama Yama of the Stalwart Sword, former Scion of the Seventh Dawn and current seeker of adventure.” She combined this last with a wink, though with her eyepatch on it was more of a blink. “Good to meet you as well.”

When asked by Kim, Terry raised his shoulders in a shrug, watching as the fellow Seekers shook hands. “Oh, nothing. Just saying ‘hi,’ is all,” he reciprocated. “And Kim, Yaya here is the newest member in our club. She told me she’s had experiences combating beasts and traveling to the ends of the universe. Sounds rad, right?”

Not long after, a Mii waitress approached their table, serving their orders. Terry took his own plate of steak, then the cold glass of beer, a half smile curling by his lips.

“Thank you,” he told the waitress, prompting the latter to hunch her shoulders. He picked a fork and a knife, beginning to slice the grilled beef. “Hope you enjoy the food, Yaya.” With his fork, he pierced and stuffed the sizable slice into his mouth, savoring the juicy delicacy. Yayama wasted no time herself, attacking the steak as if it had taken her best friend prisoner. She put it away at a startling rate, as if she were three times her actual size.

“Hmm… So, Kim, I see that you’re buddies with Raiden now, eh? Bet the Elder Gods see something special in you,” Terry joked, half grinning, swallowing the chewed beef slice as swiftly as he shoved it into his mouth. “Say, uh, have you and Mr. Thunder God ordered anything? I can help y’all place your orders if you wanna. I’ll be the one paying… again.”

Kim nodded to Yayama. Studying her, trying to figure out what her “deal” is. Wondering if she was freed from Galeem’s influence, and if she was a Seeker or not. But his attention was turned towards Terry. ” Not that I know of, I just asked him to answer some questions about the Four Kings.” Kim didn’t think that Terry would want to pay for their meal again. He turned to speak to Raiden about that. But as he turned, he noticed that Raiden was standing behind him.

“You do not have to worry about our meal, I will pay for it.” Raiden said before turning to Terry and Yayama. “Nice to see you again, Terrence. How are you doing? I hope you are not getting into any trouble. And who is your new friend?”

“Oh, her?” Terry asked Raiden back, pointing a thumb at the one-eyed lalafell who was still eating her own steak with gusto. “Welp, her name’s Yayama. Yayama Yaya. She’s something of a knight and an adventurer herself. Also looks like somebody who can be part of that Earthrealm club of yours, too.” He grinned and raised his eyebrows, absently slicing the beef on his plate. “And it’s nice meetin’ you again, Lord Thunder God. I’ve been doin’ okay myself. Kinda. What about you? Hope the Skeletor fella didn’t bother you much anymore.”

“Yama,” she corrected, before going back to her steak.

The thunder god sat at their table, with Kim following suit. The waitress came by asking what they would like to order.

“Well, I was looking at your menu and I thought the pork belly with your vegetable side dish looked good. Kim what would you like?” Raiden turned to Kim, handing him the menu.

“Just a glass of water, please. Now what do you know about Heihachi Mishima?” Kim just shook his head and handed the waitress the menu. Once again, he pulled out his notebook and pen.

“From what I learned watching his fight, he has quite the hard head. I would know from personal experience.” Raiden moved a hand to rub his forehead. “He is a skilled practitioner in a particular style of karate, have you heard of Mishima Style Fighting Karate?” To his question, Kim shook his head. “Heihachi recently is in quite a tiff with his son, Kazuya. If it weren’t for the tournament, the two of them would be in an all-out war. So, they use the tournament as an opportunity to try to kill each other. Usually, they do it by trying to throw each other into a volcano. Such a strange family.” The thunder god shook his head with a chuckle.

While savoring his flank steak and its side dishes, Terry gave ear to each and every elaborate detail Raiden told Kim. Knowing how resourceful the god of lightning was, he knew that the detective found just the right person to inform him about all things Four Kings and even Esaka as a whole. At Raiden’s latter remark about the Mishima family feud, the brawny blonde snorted in a stifled giggle, shoving a fry then a bigger slice of beef into his mouth. A comical chomp was let out.

“Aww, jeez… I dunno why, but the ‘throwing each other into something’ bit just sorta reminds me of what Geese and I often did. Just a never ending loop that’s gonna repeat itself over and over and over again,” Terry opined, then swallowed the chewed delicacies in a loud gulp, his smile turning wry upon realizing the irony of the situation. It was even worse, now that he thought about it, because once one of them was eradicated, a copy of themselves would rise at some point since some mightier-than-thou anomaly just loved maintaining the status quo of his sick, twisted world. “See? This is exactly what’s off about this strange new world we’re livin’ in. Just some shady, out-of-touch empire ruling over this lovely place, and the stories that won’t just end because some sickos love watching us beat each other up to death.” Hopefully, the deliberate use of the word ‘new’ didn’t confuse Raiden, considering his—seemingly—gleaming state. “Why, I dunno about you folks, but… do you think there’s a chance we might break the cycle in the next tourneys? Or are the wheels just gonna keep turning?”

“Well, that’s what I’m hoping for. Assuming Esaka doesn’t toss me out for being some tourist who ‘simply doesn’t understand their ways.’ Honestly, if they knew the half of what I’d been up to, they’d be singing a different tune.” The suggestion of cultural insensitivity clearly annoyed the lalafell, who punctuated her point with a particularly aggressive stab of her fork. “Or that I don’t just get myself killed in the brackets. The fighters around here are tough.”

“Totally. Even a three-time champ like me hasn’t won a single KOF tourney in, like, forever,” Terry admitted, his voice frank. Even in his second life, he thought, he still had the same luck that he used to have in his first life since the moment Rugal changed the tournament’s format in KOF ’94. With his fork, he pierced and picked a cubed carrot, a pea, and a kernel plated close to the partly devoured steak, his movement a little rigid. “Oh, believe me, Yaya, it ain’t just the outsiders who had it worse. They even rough up locals who look quite like me. You heard it yourself how they’d been callin’ me ‘gaijin’ back at Madam Bo’s Teahouse. And that’s just one instance because basically anybody who looks like my pal Ken has to endure the same insult for many, many years. Worse if you end up losing a fight. I know, I know, it’s unfair, but that’s just the way it is. All we are is just the ‘Player Two’ to the poster boys’ ‘Player One,’ no matter how many championships we’ve won along the way. Imagine putting your body on the line every year for some sickos’ entertainment, and all you got for the most part is just, what? Being treated like another copy cat of a fellow blonde dude in red?”

“I did have a similar feeling as well. A sort of deja vu where major events keep repeating in different ways. But I try not to dwell on it too much. I heard you had joined the King of Fighters tournament. What team do you have now? You have had so many over the years, it’s quite hard to keep up.” Raiden shook his head while relaxing in his chair.

“I… guess you’re right, Raiden. We shouldn’t grieve all the time,” Terry hesitantly agreed, given that Raiden knew it better when it came to experiencing repeating major events. He gobbled the vegetable side dishes skewered by his fork, his teeth gingerly grinding. “And as for my newest team, I’ll be having Captain Falcon and, um… Ammy as my teammates. Yeah, I know, you might not know who those guys are because they’re outsiders. We just trained back at your pal’s Teahouse, and I tell you what, they’re more than ready to throw down tomorrow. In fact, they look like they’ve been fightin’ their whole life.” He smiled, then swallowed, amused at his team’s prior performances. Perhaps, there was some truth to what Raiden said in regards to his team. Ever since his usual teammates went missing, he rarely had a consistent team like he used to back in his prior life.

“Perhaps you could tell me a bit more about the Tekken and Street Fighter tournament? I would like to know what my partner and I are getting into.” Kim interjected as he noticed the waitress coming in with their order.

Raiden made a noise of realization, remembering the reason for their talk; he was supposed to answer Kim’s questions. “Well, Tekken and the Street Fighter tournament is one-on-one combat. Really, most of the tournament is like this, except for the King Of Fighters tournament. However, there was another tournament from a long time ago where participants were in teams. However, that tournament was abandoned after a rather disastrous event. The participants of the Tekken tournament are varied. You will be facing regular humans like yourself, but also kangaroos, dinosaurs, bears, and ninjas.” Raiden paused to start eating his food before continuing.

“From what I saw, they are also angels, devils, and demons. But I do not think they are participating anymore, so you do not have to worry. For the Street Fighter Tournament, your partner will be dealing with sumo wrestlers, men who can stretch their limbs, and green men that has harnessed the power of electricity. Although not as well as I.” Raiden smiled, taking a bit of his pork belly.

Hearing this made Kim a bit worried that he and Harry were a bit out of their element. Slowly, he took a sip of his water. “And how will the fights be conducted?” He nervously set his cup down on the table.

“Well, your name and the other fighters' names will be chosen, and you will be put into a bracket. If you win, you move on to the next bracket. Each fight consists of two rounds, and if there is a draw in the second round, a third round will be held to break the draw if one fighter has won a round. There is no prize for losers, so you will need to win a match to proceed in the tournament.” Raiden looked over to Yayama. “I don’t think you will have trouble. I have faith that you seekers of light will prevail. However, I would be remiss if I didn't have some concern for your friend Pit. The Mortal Kombat participants are much tougher than most.” Raiden finished his food, wiping his mouth with a nearby napkin.

“Well, as it happens, that’s the tournament I came here for. I didn’t like the sound of it even before I, you know,” Yayama gestured with her head toward Terry, “as it seemed like the best way to get to the bottom of what’s going on there was to throw myself in. I’m not quaking in my sabatons at the prospect, but I’d be a fool if I didn’t admit to being caught off guard by how stiff the competition here is.” She finished her last mouthful of steak, then went for the glass of water. The adventurer gave it a careful sniff before downing it much as she’d done with the food. “If you’ve got any information about that one, it’d be of great assistance to me.”

When Yayama gestured towards him with her head, Terry gave a knowing nod. “Well, that, yeah… I feel you, too,” he agreed, sharing the same sentiment in regards to, not just the gorefest that was the Mortal Kombat series of tournaments, but also the Tiered City as a whole. He shifted his attention back towards the lightning deity, picking the last half of the steak with the sharp, narrow tips of his fork. “Don’t worry about ’em, Lord Thunder God. Yaya here’s tough as nails. I’ve seen her fight one of the locals before. And I’d like to believe that Pit’s about as strong, too, because… he’s an angel, isn’t he?”

With his lips parting wide, Terry stuffed the large half of the tender, juicy beef into his mouth, letting out a louder chomp as he took his final bite. He quickly finished the side dishes decking a corner of his plate, then grabbed his glass of cold beer by its rounded handle, bringing its tip close to his lower lip. He swallowed the alcoholic beverage vigorously, belching aloud when he settled the now empty glass on the table. A residual foam clung by a corner of his lips, and he brushed it off, leaving a small, dull tint on the bandage shrouding his hand.

“Alright! That was a fine dinner, amirite?” he asked, his weary face beaming. However, he began to lose his smile the moment he was reminded by what Cap told him back at the Banishing Flats. Gleaming or not gleaming, they only had ten years left to live, he said. The harsh realization that they couldn’t live much longer had been weighing on him lately, giving him a sort of existential crisis. All the things that he got to experience and enjoy now with his fellows would be no more once they reached the end of time. Such was the fate for the World of Light’s entire population, and he did wish there was any way they could do to extend their respective lifespans.

That’s right, Terry, ten years. Ten years till the doomsday clock stops ticking. There’s only so much I can do in my second life, but… what should I do? No, no, no… I know what I need to do. I know my purpose. I know my priorities. I guess the real question should be… what would I do while it still lasts?

As he drew a long, deep breath, Terry gave each person at the table an alternating glance. He’d always been curious about what they thought regarding the matter, given that everybody aside from Raiden might’ve already learned the truth beforehand.

“Hey, guys, I was wondering,” Terry initiated, shoulders hunching and hands folded on the table, “what would you do if you were only given ten years left to live?”

Yayama’s expression fell almost immediately at the question. It was one she’d been avoiding thinking about. “Well, I guess that’s kind of a conundrum. I’ve seen a lot of the world, so I was hoping to get on with a normal life at some point. Start a family, build a house, maybe get serious about goldsmithing. Hard to justify doing the former if you know you’re going to leave the kid without a mom before they’re grown, though.” She sighed. “Suppose I’d just keep doing what I’ve been doing, in the end. There’s never a shortage of people that need help, and it’s not like I’ve got a lot to lose.” She was quiet for a moment, before halfheartedly adding “Hypothetically, of course.”

“Well, the Mortal Kombat tournament is much like the others. However, there are no rules, and fighters can use any means to win a match. Most of the fighters will be using weapons. Some batons, swords, or even guns. Even those who do not use weapons are equally as dangerous with just their fist. I would tread carefully when participating in the tournament.” As the waitress came by, he paid for his meal. “Indeed, it was quite good.” He took a moment to ponder Terry’s question. “If I had only ten years to live, I would stick to my mission and assist you mortals as best I can.” The thought of an elder god dying was uncommon, but it had happened before. So he would try to help the Seekers Of Light succeed in their mission.

When Kim heard his question he had his hands folded in front of him. Wondering what he would do with ten years. The most probably thing would be solving as many cases as possible.Try to get his affairs in order before passing. Or in this case he would try to help Harry with defeating Galeem.

“THE PALE IS COMING TO CONSUME YOU. THE CLOCK IS TICKING!” Kim’s Inland Empire said making him have a worried look on his face before speaking.

“I would try to help my partner and the Seekers with completing their goal.” Kim took a deep breath before taking a sip of his water.

Eyebrow drawing up, it concerned Terry for a moment when Kim started fidgeting and making a worried face upon being asked the question. The way he behaved, it was as though a loud, presumably internal voice had been whispering into his ear that gave him some degree of panic attack. Nevertheless, he did share the same sentiments that all three of them expressed, most notably Yayama’s and Kim’s. It was true that one of his main priorities as of now was to give Galeem a fine can of ass-whooping for making everybody’s second life unnecessarily rough, but he couldn’t deny that the notion of starting a family and raising kids was… tempting.

After he and his girlfriend had confessed to each other a long time ago, Terry did consider asking Mary to take their relationship to the next level, which means finally proposing to her. They could raise Rock together, even had their own children as years progressed. Growing old with her had always been a long-time dream of his, after all, but now? All he could do was just… drawing a wry smirk, realizing that Mary and Rock hadn’t even been around for so long. He wasn’t even sure of how they’d been doing lately, either. If only he had the barest hints of courage to propose to her while she was still in Esaka… Still, it wasn’t too late to rescue her just yet. No matter who or what had been holding her captive, eventually, he’d find her.

“Well, those are some… fine answers, you guys. As for me, welp, let’s just say that, um… I’d just live my life to the fullest while it still lasted,” Terry voiced his thoughts, finally discovering the answer. “None of us knows what’s gonna happen in the next ten or so years, so I guess the best way to spend it is to do the best we can with what we have now, won’tcha agree? ’Least, that’s what my old man used to tell me. What he’d want me to do…”

As the light tubes’ bright glare began to dwindle, Marco leisurely approached their table, disrupting the conversation. He held onto his duffle bag, its flimsy, dark strap hugging his broad shoulder. “I’m sorry, everyone, but the restaurant’s closing shortly,” he reminded the four, then fixated on both Terry and Yayama. “So, Terry, I’ve heard a bit about your habit from a good friend of yours. You’re not just going to leave this place without paying, are you?” He snorted in a snicker, then handed their bill, his voice more playful than it was scoffing.

Upon hearing Marco’s reminder, Terry drew his eyebrows up quizzically. “Oh, really?” he asked, then looked around him, noticing that they were the only customers left in the restaurant. Not even Athena and her band were present anywhere within their vicinity, either, leaving the once vibrant musical stage empty. “Time flies, huh?” He darted his sky-blue gaze back towards Marco and snickered along, shaking his head at the blunt joke. “Yeah, yeah… just wait up, alright? I’ll be payin’ for both my pal and myself. I thought Richard might’ve told you that I’m a changed man.”

After accepting the bill in Marco’s hand, Terry rummaged in his back pocket, drawing out his bifold wallet. He unfolded and spread the wallet, then began calculating the notes deeply stowed beneath its wider slot, occasionally stealing glances at the bill sprawled atop the table. It surprised him when he discovered the total amount of zennies he had left in his possession. Once he paid for the dinner and a room at the Banishing Flats, he’d be stretched too thin financially. But not to worry, though, because the latest KOF tournament was around the corner. Winning or losing, he’d leave the competition with a load of prize money, eventually.

“Here. The money,” the brawny blonde said to the Kyokugen practitioner, holding out a couple of notes he’d withdrawn from his wallet. He placed the latter back under his back pocket. “You can keep the change. That was a fine steak, Marco. Takuma’s special recipe, ain’t it? And if you ever meet Ryo, just tell him I say ‘hi,’ alright, bud?”

Marco nodded, accepted the notes, then stowed them behind his gi, not even bothering himself to check the amount of zennies given to him. “Very well. I’ll let Master Ryo know that you’ll be seeing him tomorrow at the tournament,” he promised, hunching his shoulders in front of the more seasoned fighter one final time. “Glad you like the steak, Terry. Come back again whenever you wish!”

“You bet!” Terry excitedly reciprocated, then stood out of his seat, tipping his cap and reciprocating the shoulder hunch. “Good luck, Marco! We’ll see you again whenever that is.”

As he shifted against the table, Terry gave his fellows a glance over his bare shoulder, his bright eyes becoming noticeably puffy to remain wide open. “Well, folks, let’s just call it a night, should we?” he asked, his head gesturing in the direction of the front door. “We have lots of candy asses to kick tomorrow. Wish y’all the best of luck!”

After the brawny blonde gave everyone a high five, the Seekers left the restaurant alongside Raiden, readying themselves for the massive showdowns ahead of them tomorrow. Hopefully, there’d be one or more of them fortunate enough to confront the sponsors of their respective tournaments. A wild storm approached, a nightmare awaiting. Will the Seekers of Light prevail or will evil tighten its icy grip on the Tiered City of Esaka?

FIN.

Mokou found herself sitting on top of the stagecoach as it moved quite a lot, especially as the convoy moved around. Yet now, she was up on it not to relax, but to ponder. It was strange, but it felt like a fog had been lifted from her mind, allowing Mokou to remember… Well, everything. Each memory of the forest that she had resided in, the land of Gensokyo as a whole… As well as the brief moments where everything was engulfed in light. Even with her mind clear, she could not remember the source of the light… Mainly because she knew that the source lay beyond the forest where she had been subsumed.

Even still, Mokou didn’t freak out at the realization that her life in this world was a lie. Instead, she simply stared at her hand, a small flame burning within it. She simply thought, letting the fire dance between her fingers. After a while however, Mokou let out a sigh, rising to her feet and casually hopping down from the top of the stagecoach, hands in her pockets as she approached the first person she saw: The massive, bug-like queen known as Sectonia, “Hey. Bothering you a moment: Wanted to ask some questions about…” the phoenix pauses for a moment, figuring out the right words to say, “... This whole journey that you folks are on. That robot did something to me that they called ‘friend hearting’, and got more questions now that my head’s cleared up.”

”Hm? Ah yes, I suppose that would be confusing.” Sectonia said, looking at their next destination with disdain as it was just as ruined as everywhere else. ”So many people have been freed that it feels like someone would give the explanation. ” Sectonia mused for a bit, since this took her sight off the ugly tower in front of her.

”I suppose I can enlighten you. Although you’ll owe me a favor in the future. Nothing horrible or terrible, and maybe you’ll pay it back without knowing some day if you're proven to be loyal. I do know the most about what is going on out of every seeker here, so you can try your luck with another if you want but I wouldn’t recommend it.” Setonia said with mild amusement. She was bored until now, so might as well have a bit of fun with things.

Mokou’s eyebrow rises for a brief moment, before she shrugs, “Favors, alright. I can work with that, as long as you don’t ask me for something stupid like immortality” she says, leaning on the stagecoach’s side.

That got a bit more of a laugh from Sectonia than probably what Mokou was expecting. ”Oh I've figured that one out already.” She then put back on her more stoic face as she began to explain. ”Well, first, if you look to the sky you’ll see a winged sun coiled in rainbows. Our overall goal is to kill that thing, which created this world from a conglomeration of all worlds it seems. To do this, we need to slay its guardians and take their power for our own. From what I can tell, everyone can only take in a single guardian, but they are very powerful spirits for a reason. There are other groups of interest that seem to be ‘helping’ on our mission such as the Organization XIII, however they have questionable motives at best and are probably looking to steal Galeem’s power for their own. The other group, the Consuls, are individuals that are opposed to our mission and try to defend the guardians.” She looked to see if Mokou was still paying attention until she got into the consuls.

”Signified with a letter as a name, they seem to be outside of the ‘spirit’ system and have strong powers of their own to compensate, however once defeated they vanish without a trace. And considering the ‘system’ seems to recycle spirits every 10 years, being removed from it means their complete erasure. They claim a power named “Mobeus”, and regain their energy through Flame Clocks, items that fill up based on the conflict of the area that seem to give life to the area. But without any ability for us to take one to investigate or break them so far, thats just speculation and they could be harming areas they are in instead.”

Mokou nods along, letting Sectonia explain before she ultimately narrows her eyes, bringing a hand out to hold her chin as she thought, “... Following along, but explain more of these Consuls and spirits. Namely, how they’re erased… As well as this ‘recycling’” she turns away from the distant winged sun, her red eyes holding a focused intensity that was very much unlike her normal casualness, “I can presume that I, much like everyone else, am subjected to this resetting. Otherwise I would have memories of it. Which tells me that this ‘Sun’ has the ability to bypass the Horai Elixir's grip on eternity.”

”From what I understand, each person has a ‘10 year’ limit before they get ‘reset’, and without the friend heart apparently we’re under the whim of Galeem and the Consuls, the former able to control those Galeem’d. And yes, this apparently bypasses anything any of us have to ‘extend’ life. As for the spirits, when you kill someone, you gain their spirit. Depending on what you do with it, it will influence how you look, but you’ll gain more of the former spirit’s power. Crushing it will spawn an item, of which I can improve what you gain. You can try to bond with the spirit to summon it in battle, but your limited to 2. Finally you can put the spirit within yourself which changes how you look but lets you gain its powers. We have some methods to minimize this. Do note the ratio of male to female spirits. If you put too many of one into you, your gender will change as well.”

The final addition causes Mokou to raise an eyebrow, but she nods, “I see. So it still requires killing…” she mutters to herself before sighing, placing her hands back into her pockets, “Well, I thought if I could somehow replicate these Consul’s ability to not return from destruction, I could finally have an answer to my own problem. But I suppose it can’t be helped” the phoenix immediately returns to a slouching stance, looking back at the Queen, her focused expression having faded, “So, this Baldur fellow must be a Consul as well, huh? Or is he just a servant they send out to cause problems?”

”Or the Guardian, or just a strong spirit in general. We wont know until we see them.” Sectonia said. ”I’d prefer the Guardian, as it would be another step to fixing this 10 year limit thing.”

Mokou nods once again, kicking the floor idly as she lets out a sigh, “Right. Well, everything I’ve heard about him tells me that I’m not gonna like him, so it’ll be nice to put him in the dirt” with that she rolls her shoulders, glancing back at the ruined city that was their destination, “... I think I’ve got the gist of the situation. But, just need a little time to process. I’ll be back before you all leave” the phoenix turns around, giving the Queen a small wave before she leaps into the air, her fiery wings sprouting from her back to allow her to launch herself into the sky and towards the city.

After his return to the stagecoach, Mokou was next to exit and perform reconnaissance, encountering and engaging a massive aquatic creature that she was content to float out of reach of, peppering it with fireballs. Unfortunately, the monster had a much longer reach than was immediately apparent, and it dragged her under the waves. Roxas and Ganondorf were quick to leap to her aid, and with the three of them distracting the monster (and doing a terrible job of it before realizing that the stagecoach was a bad place to bait attacks out from), the group was able to escape the encounter and reach safety after a short sprint from the Reindrix.

Before them lay Spire 04, the location of the space elevator that Adam and Eve had mentioned when they first met. How an elevator was meant to go so high without collapsing on itself was beyond Geralt, but the kinds of materials he’d seen in this world were also far beyond him and his knowledge. As they got closer, Heismay called out that the bridge was out, forcing the stagecoach to a halt. Luckily, he also quickly spotted a dam that the stagecoach could use to cross the gap, and they quickly made their way towards it.

After Sandalphon and Adam’s drone detected groups of machine-fused lifeforms, the Naytiba that Adama and Eve were familiar with, Geralt began looking them over. They weren’t terribly novel in form, though the latest presentation was a grotesque combination of flesh and metal that made Geralt’s brow furrow and his nose scrunch. They looked almost like men trying to hold in their entrails as they died.

After Heismay and Eve broke off from the group, Geralt took a position ahead of the stagecoach but not too far into the field of enemies, calling out to the others. “We ought to provoke them in waves, so as not to draw too much attention our way and risk being overwhelmed.” He cast Quen to protect himself in its shimmering shield, then bounded forward towards a group of the humanoid Naytiba, a pair of swordsman with a third also carrying a shield. Before getting too close, however, he watched their movement patterns and avoided getting breaching their patrol area.

Once he was ready, the drain of casting a Sign recovered, he drew his steel sword and began casting a spell. “Come forth, sacred spirits!” His shout drew the attention of the Naytiba, which turned his way and began running towards him. “Luminant Scythe!” Too late for them, however, as Geralt cast the holy spell at one of the regular droids. Rings of holy energy surrounded it as balls of light energy crashed into it one after another, each dealing a chunk of damage. It wasn’t enough to defeat the creature, but it was a significant enough blow to stagger it somewhat and break their formation. As the first Naytiba reached him, Geralt deftly parried a swing of its blade, the heat from its weapon drawing a bead of sweat from his brow, and cut through its exposed flesh, severing a great number of tendrils, which flopped to the floor.

The Naytiba did not react as its fellows joined it, forcing Geralt to back up and avoid being surrounded. He did not let them take the offensive, however, and made for the one that he’d hit with Luminant Scythe, attacking its sword arm to force it on the defensive. Rather than preserve its own life, however, it also attacked Geralt, its superheated blade smashing into the protective barrier of Quen. He grunted and forced the attack, shoulder-checking the robot and stabbing it through the torso. Pulling his sword out, he cut across its body several times before pirouetting around a slash from the first Naytiba he had reached, backing off as they closed ranks.

A shot from Sandalphon finished off the Naytiba he’d wounded with Luminant Scythe, earning him some much-needed breathing room. He expanded that breathing room with a blast from Aard, stumbling the shieldless Naytiba, while the shielded heavy droid resisted the force of the blast, dissipating against its bulwark. It rushed him, shield forward while its blade loomed threateningly overhead, and had to skid to a stop as geralt danced around its shield and cut at one of its legs. It shoved its shield forward to make room while the other Naytiba rushed Geralt, and the Witcher took a step to try and force one Naytiba between himself and the other.

They immediately spread out, however, and Geralt had to sigh. They had decent enough teamwork, but they lacked the aggression to make use of that. Quickly drawing his hand crossbow, Geralt shot the Naytiba without a shield and pounced at it, hacking off a leg with a pair of savage blows and pushing it back with a kick. He turned his attention to the heavy droid and waited for it to attack, which the corrupted machine was more than willing to oblige. As its sword arm sailed past him, Geralt grabbed the limb with one arm and drove his sword into its torso, leaving the blade within while he pulled the droid’s arm to drag it off-balance. He drove a kick into the back of its knee, leaning over it to draw his sword again and dismember the heavy droid by removing its arm. The other droid was trying to drag itself towards him, giving him enough time to finish off the heavy droid.

He approached the remaining Naytiba and waited out an incredibly easily avoided slash from the ground, stepping on its sword arm and driving his sword into the droid’s head, ending it. He grabbed the three Spirits left by the destroyed droids, bottling them for later crushing.

With Sectonia's little chat with Mokou done, she decided to descend upon the town with the others. While that chat had distracted her a bit, there was some cleansing that had to be done with these horrible creatures. While the other town of cyborgs she left alone as they weren't hostile, at least for the moment, these clearly were if Blazermate healing Geralt who was getting into a fight with these things was any indication.

Granted once the Queen descended upon the fight, things would get a lot more chaotic as she not only nearly doubled the seeker's numbers with her summoned Antlers, she'd fire off various projectiles of raining swords, light rings, and punishing any of the cyborgs that got close with her death pulse and damaging auras making the once mostly calm battlefield filled with many hazards for the enemies of the seekers. She'd let the others collect the spirits left behind much like what Geralt was doing now.

While Sectonia was doing her projectile shenanigans, staying at around the middle of the group, Blazermate was off doing her healing duties. She'd throw off an occasional divine star or dissolution for damage or debuffing but for now she didn't ahve to use any of her really big abilities on these things as they were getting cleared up pretty well.

--------------------------------------



Roland took a bit more of a tour of Eseka to learn what was coming up. as he did, he learned more and more and that made him very sure on what his initial feelings of the area were. This city was if a syndicate of his, the Middle, ruled an entire city itself instead of just a part of the backstreets. Getting back to his room, Roland plopped himself on his bed, getting ready for what would happen tomorrow.

While Eseka was a bit better than his own world, it wasn't as interesting as Midgar. Granted while he was working in Midgar, he was part of the secret police of that place. Thinking about it, it seemed that he was in a lot better spot in Midgar than he thought perhaps. Being with these seekers is a bit of a strange feeling, thinking about it. He wasn't really a hero or anything, but from what the others had been saying and what he had learned, there were far 'worse' seekers than him as well as more heroic ones. But he did see some green lush areas that he wouldn't have ever seen in either City or Midgar, so... Maybe he should count himself fortunate? The Avenger needed better food regardless. Hm... If Eseka worked like he thought it did, he could maybe get something going in regards to that.

Speaking of Eseka, it seemed to function almost identical to how the Middle functioned. The strongest ruled and it was all by a test of combat and skill. Although he wondered if the four kings had any amount of 'brothership' that that syndicate had, even if it was just as or more warped than those tattooed freaks. At least he had quite a bit of experience fighting these sorts of people, so maybe even if it was for a little bit he could be successful in this system too? He was one of the few doing the Tekken line as it was, so he'd be pretty important regardless. Roland supposed even outside of the City and even the Library he still had to fight to make a living, well thats just how things go he supposed.

The only worry was that 'rules' would be enforced when fighting opponents. While he had a general idea of what that meant, would it act like the Library where the space itself changed to accommodate said rules, or were they merely suggestions?