To say Geralt was disappointed that most of the Reindrix had been killed would be an understatement. “Damn. Must’ve been a hell of a monster.” He grumbled, trying to hide his disappointment in the others. He, Heismay, and Roxas had their own issues with Vauban, though they dispatched him in fairly short order, as evidenced by their return being second. Mokou and Sectonia were both powerful, and with Blazermate practically eliminating any worries about incoming damage, they’d be able to easily dispatch anything they came across.

While the group waited, Geralt pulled out the droid spirits he’d been carrying and quickly crushed them.



The materials were obviously useful, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what the metal alloy was. Transforming into LCCB Assistant Manager, he looked over the shield and found it satisfactory. Equipping it, he sent the bundle of metal, the armguard, and his old ballistic shield to the Armory via the transport spell.

Soon enough, the hypertube began to open, and Sandalphon even had an idea for replacing their Gleaming beasts of burden. He had to admit that it was a good one, as well. Avoiding that major flaw would make the rest of the journey a lot smoother.

The way the hypertube operated was just another bizarre thing that Geralt would have to deal with. When Eve sailed off to it on her blade, he let out a tiny laugh. How bizarre. He followed after her before the cart, transforming into the armored LCCB Assistant Manager with its bullet-resistant shield. He dropped the shield to the ground, kicking it into the hypertube and jumping onto it like Eve had her sword. He was quickly pulled in, zooming after Eve and Adam’s drone.

Behind him, the stagecoach slowly trundled into the tube as the obstacles ahead began to appear. These earned a flat look from Geralt, and a simple whispered, “of course.” Before he began emulating Eve’s movements, stamping down onto one edge of the shield to dodge an incoming shipping container.

Rapidly after that, things got even more complicated. A Skulling launched itself from the wall of the hypertube after Geralt, tentacles outstretched to take hold of his face and suffocate him. He quickly lifted his pistol, firing a pair of rounds into the Naytiba’s body, sending it off course and flying past him. Of course there were monsters here, too. The ride quickly devolved into a saga of dodging random debris and shooting at the monsters that revealed themselves, including some that exploded upon their payloads being shot. When he first shot a Cymul that reflected his bullet back into his protective vest, though, Geralt put that one firmly in the ‘Avoid Only’ category and put his efforts into dodging them rather than destroying them.

One advantage of not being on the stagecoach meant that Geralt was able to control his own maneuvering, and that made evading danger much easier than it would have if he had remained on the bulky carriage. That made evading the Cymul much easier, and with his reflexes he was only unlucky enough for a single Skulling to attach itself to him, trying to pin his legs together and immobilize him before infecting him. Geralt simply holstered his pistol and grabbed the thing, ripping a few tentacles off its body as he yanked it off and tossed it into the hypertube with disdain. The tentacles writhed violently for a few moments, trying to take hold, but he was quick to remove and dispose of them as well as he continued to surf down the tube.

@Lugubrious

Harry Dubois

𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝒦𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾

Word Count: 487
Level: Lv: 6 EXP: (3/60)
Lv: 4 EXP: (5/40)
Location: Esaka’s Middle Tier - Banishing Flat/ Quick Rise

Harry tried going back further into the building, wanting to try to save the others. But Kim was holding onto his arm. Harry stopped what he was doing and was pulled out of the burning hotel. When both men were finally out of the hotel, they walked over to the fire exit. Kim first noticed Big Band while pulling Harry along like a child. ” It’s good to see you. Is there anyone who is missing? ” Kim asked, but his question was answered when he saw the other Seekers that were inside of Banishing Flat.

” Glad you lot are okay, I wonder why those robots tried blowing up the hotel.” Harry said, and he could hear a voice speaking to try to answer his question.

"It was that catgirl; she stole from Kazuya. And he wanted revenge, trying to find and probably kill her.” Authority said. And there was a thought that Harry considered the reason the Jack-5s attacked.

“Or that Kazuya is working with Galeem, and had planned to wipe us all out in one go.” Perception corrected Authority, but offered an interesting alternative perspective on the situation.

Once the cost was clear, Harry returned to Kim’s place to avoid sleeping in a pile of garbage. He was very grateful to have a friend like Kim around. And Kim was glad that nothing bad had happened to Harry. However, the other patrons of the hotel were not so lucky. Harry didn’t get much sleep; his mind was racked with thoughts of how unprepared he was for the situation. In the middle of the night, he got out of bed to have a smoke. Staying up all night while Kim was fast asleep. Pondering on different things, but was mainly concerned about whether he could actually help his team and not be a burden.

As Harry was having his last cigarette, he could hear Big Band communicating via linkpearl. ” Good morning, Band. Hope you're doin well. I’ve been up all night so that I could use a strong cup of coffee.” Harry took a tired, deep breath. He could hear Kim getting up and ready for the day. The Pao Pao cafe would be comforting to visit and converse with the other Seekers.

“Were you up all night?” Kim asked as he came into the room, having heard Harry speaking to Band over the linkpearl. Harry nodded before Kim got some extra clothes for Harry. As both men walked over to the cafe, they discussed the tournament and the information Kim had found on the Street Fighter and Tekken tournaments. They both arrived with Kim waving to Big Band. Harry took a seat first, with Kim joining him.

” I hope you are doing well, Detective Band. I had found some information on the tournaments and the participants. If you want to hear about it?” Kim asked while Harry ordered some coffee for both of them.

“Everyone, get away from here!”

BOOM!

BOOM!

BOOM!

RRROOMM!

“Oh, nuts! We won’t make it!”

Explosions continued to flare wildly within the self-destructing headquarters, as Andy and Joe loudly alerted each other. A massive quake emerged, the ground trembling, rubbles beginning to bury a number of NESTS operatives their team had been combating. Both fighters widened their eyes at the sight, horrors evident across their battered faces.

Throughout their respective fighting careers, this had to be one of the most frightening events to take place in the history of the KOF tournament series. It wasn’t only because of South Town getting partially demolished, nope, but also the fact that their team had been trapped within the enemy’s camp alongside the others. As to why they were gathered here, the purpose was simple: to allow a certain syndicate to collect their energies in order to feed the very cannon used to devastate South Town. The process, however, was undeniably grueling, as it involved continuous battles actively draining every fighter trapped within the tower while the final match between Team K’ and ‘Zero’ was played out somewhere classified. Team Fatal Fury was one of them, even when they didn’t make the cut to face the sponsor.

Despite the tower’s apparent collapsing state, their fellow teammates, Mary and the team’s captain Terry, were still left behind, surrounded by the remaining NESTS operatives hindering their track. They continued doing what they did best: flailing and kicking asses like there’s no tomorrow, although it’d become more and more jarring that they were outnumbered by the newly arriving Kyo clones. Mary did, eventually, escape the suffocating crowd after swinging and tossing one of the tan-skinned clones towards the others. Terry, however…




BUMP!

…was knocked several feet back after failing to avoid a heavy, descending rubble, all while battling several Kyo clones in unison. The impact sent his cap flying away, blood spilling all over his face. It was as if his cranium had been busted open upon collision with the rubble’s jagged figure, staggering him.

“Terry!”

Shocked and wide-eyed, Mary halted and pivoted, scurrying towards her best friend instead of the exit door. Terry stumbled back, his upright form wavering and his strides weakly drumming. He could feel his head aching and his vision blurring, seeing no less than a blur of brown, white, and violet. He was clearly in no shape to continue fighting, but he went ahead with it, anyway. Not when his loved ones were in danger.

“Mary??” Terry asked, then reflexively shifted his attention towards a blur of red, purple, and brown closing in his direction, recognizing it as his best friend. “What’re you doing!? Get the hell outta here!”

Mary nearly froze, gasping, startled by the sight of Terry’s visage covered in his own crimson liquid. He could barely even open one of his eyes at the moment, his features partly rearranged. “B– But, handsome…” she stuttered, her concern expressed. That was what she always called him: ‘handsome,’ even though she wasn’t sure if the nickname still rang true given his concerning facial condition.

“No buts, honey,” Terry sternly insisted, all while parrying the hardhitting flail coming from a Kyo clone’s fist with his wrist. “Just save yourself and everyone else! It’s too dangerous to stay!”

POW!

Eventually, an alternating fist managed to graze against Terry’s cheek when he was unfocused, the impact as rough as that of the talented lad whose genes the clone possessed. Mary hesitated for a moment, her blue eyes darting back and forth. It didn’t seem like she could leave immediately, either, now that a pair of Kyo clones had come to prevent her from proceeding forward. At the same time, her teammates were still present, striving to overcome all the operatives deployed by Clone Zero. Considering Terry’s brutally battered form, she didn’t feel it was right to leave just yet.

“No, I can’t!” Mary insisted and threw her gloved fists down, feigning self-assurance. “I’ve lost dad and Butch. I can’t afford losing you guys, too. Especially you, Terry.”

“Don’t you get it!?” Terry questioned, his flaming, flailing fist against the Kyo clone’s visage making it seem like he was gesturing at him. “These guys are dangerous, Mary! I don’t wanna see you hurt yourself. Just go. Now!”

“But what about you?”

“Just please, go!” Terry urged aloud, his voice close to cracking. “Just do it for me! You, Andy, and Joe. All three of you. I don’t wanna lose you guys, either, okay?”

“Terry…”

After knocking out two battered Kyo clones with a single roundhouse kick, the blonde man approached the blonde woman, desperately gripping her toned, bare shoulders. Their eyes held each other, beautiful sapphires glistening.

“Just don’t worry about me,” he reassured, his voice stern yet concerned. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. We’ll meet again.”

“Promise?” Mary asked with an equally worried visage, possessively wrapping her toned arms around his hips.

Terry weakly nodded. “I promise.”

For a moment, the couple stood still, blue eyes locking upon one another. Their faces were inches apart from each other, a comforting kiss nearly shared amidst the chaos until the noises of rubbles cut their reverie short. Gently, Terry turned his best friend around, his gloved hands pushing her forth.

“Now, move, Mary! Don’t ever look back!”

Which she didn’t quite follow, initially. Mary still stole glances at Terry past her shoulder for a couple of seconds, her boots absently jogging away. Upon shifting her gaze back ahead, she tried to strengthen her resolve, then ambushed the approaching row of Kyo army with a sliding kick, tripping them one by one. When came the final Kyo clone, she applied an additional touch by wrapping both sides of her boots around his neck, riding him down to twist his lower limb around her arm. The clone had been immobilized, and Mary hurried towards the other fighters still occupied by NESTS operatives, managing to depart only after the hurdles were dealt with.

As for Terry, he continued to fight the remaining wave of Kyo clones and regular NESTS operatives, as the rubbles slammed their jagged, gigantic feet upon them, an eerie silence taking over the blaring sirens and the noises of crushing bones. At long last, another NESTS headquarters had been torn down following the finals of a KOF tournament. With the battle now put to an abrupt halt, will the legendary South Town Hero survive?




Present Day…

“BURN KNUCKLE!!”

With a flaming, extending fist, Terry propelled himself through a row of Jack droids blocking his path, parting the sea of towering automatons as if it was The Red Sea. The harsh impact successfully wrecked and divided the Jacks into several pieces, their iron craniums and limbs flying wildly around the spacious hallway. He wasn’t sure how long the machines had kept him busy or how long his fellow Seekers had—presumably—awaited him by the now demolished lobby. All he cared for was making sure that Alex and the other fellow guests were evacuated, leading them out of the hallway.

Rubbles of varying sizes began to fall upon them. Thankfully, though, most—if not, all—had been destroyed around the same time Terry executed his Burning Knuckle, the heavier ones reduced into miniscule fragments. Strides scurrying forth, the three-time KOF champion continued to lock his gaze ahead, not minding the theatrical sights of King executing a Muscle Buster and Julia Jaycee performing a Déjà Vu onto their respective mechanical hurdles behind him. As for Alex, he continued to jog next to Terry, almost acting as the group’s second leader. When a brawny midget with long, flimsy moustache and white headscarf hindered his path, the verdant-clad New Yorker became so exasperated and yeeted him past his shoulder, prompting him to broaden his once toned midriff like an inflating balloon. Terry watched as the small figure flew with his toned arms striking out, vanishing into red and yellow pixels as he dropped his entire weight onto a Jack droid.

“Err… Alex?” Terry called, his eyebrow raising at him in disbelief. “Just what do you think you were doing?”

“At ease, Terry. Y’know Karnov. Dude’s tough. He can handle that,” Alex argued with a playful smirk. “So, how close are we now?”

“I dunno, just keep movin’, alright?” Terry hurriedly answered, his long, undone hair graciously flowing along the gentle wind. “Shouldn’t take long…”

About the same time the blondes conversed, a pair of Jack-5 droids launched themselves in their direction, their jet-esque boots hovering just above the carpeted floor. Fortunately, both fighters were smart enough to anticipate the incoming interruptions, so by the time the latter closed in, they leaped forth to execute their respective techniques before their mechanical opponents could do anything. While Terry executed a Neckbreaker Drop, Alex performed a Spiral DDT, both successfully riding their opponents down and putting them to sleep once the back of their craniums collided with the floor with a loud…

THUMP!

“Jeez, man, I swear, these Jacks dunno jack squat about what they’re doin’,” Alex remarked, not even bothering to mince his assessment.

“Well, duh… What can you expect from a bunch of prompts?” Terry reciprocated, then sprung out of his seated position. “Just the kinda dumbasses who think Little Mac’s first name is ‘Little.’”

Alex rolled his eyes, then sprung out of his position just the same. “Yeah, right… And the badly coded ones at that,” he agreed, continuing to jog. “Can’t even escape my grip when they can.”

“For real! But y’know what I thought about these robotic shenanigans?” Terry asked, reflexively pummeling and sending an approaching Jack droid flying towards Alex with a leaping kick.

“Nah…” Alex reciprocated, leaping and catching the hurling Jack droid with a riding knee. The knee pinned the machine atop the floor and squashed his throat by accident, causing it to dysfunction. “What about it?”

“Nothin’ much. Just thought that they felt like a bunch of instant meals, is all,” Terry revealed, shrugging and continuing to jog next to Alex. “The thing is, they’re massively produced in such a short amount of time, yet no matter how many times they’re tweaked and buffed, y’know these shellheads just ain’t ever beatin’ us. Their movements are kinda clunky, y’see, and their fists lack emotions.”

“Heh. Right. Guess you got a point,” Alex agreed, the slightest hint of smile drawing by his lips. “That’s somethin’ that humans like us have, but these clankas don’t. It’s like they only know how to act like real fightas, yet they don’t have the brain nor the creativity to keep up with the real ones like us.”

Just as they continued moving ahead, another wave of droids blocked their path again. But not to worry because the leading blonde had it all figured out. Terry dropped his charged knuckles, channeling his energy into a shockwave crawling across the floor.

“POWER WAVE!!”

The shockwave ripped and tore the crimson carpet in its track before reaching out to the row of Jacks, launching them all over the interior like a bowling ball against a bunch of towering pins. Once their path was cleared, the lobby was reached, and to everybody’s surprise, it’d become nothing but ruins as the result of the prior detonation.

“Jesus…”

“Shit.”

They carefully entered the lobby, combing through glassy shrapnels and thick rubbles scattering around the floor. Their vicinity was about as messy as it got—even worse than both the courtyard and the hallway. At one corner, the same Mecha Zangief was crushed beneath a sizable debris, lagging and repeating his iconic jargons. Oftentimes, he still shouted “customer, look!” with a rather glitchy voice, as if his mind still went to Nadia. Poor guy, Terry thought. He knew the Gief bot was just trying to help, unlike the bunch of Jacks invading the area.

“Ha! There you are!”

As he spotted the gathering Seekers, Terry jogged in their direction, panting and taking a moment to control his breath. He’d been running around wildly for so long he appeared evidently gassy in front of his fellows. He’d soon be followed by Alex, the other wrestlers at the back subsequently joining.

“Finally found y’all. Are you guys okay? Is anybody hurt?” Terry asked, his worried eyes glancing between the available Seekers. So far, when the lobby was reached, there were only Zenkichi, Yayama, Band, Kim, and Harry in his… undies? That was such a peculiar sight to behold, but amusing, nonetheless. “I’ve been thinking about you guys. Don’t worry about the other guests, though. I’ve brought them all with me.”

As if to emphasize what he told them, Terry pointed at the group of wrestlers behind him with a thumb. He turned in their direction, making sure that each and every guest was present before they could leave the place. His hands clapped, trying to attract their attention.

“Alright, I hope nobody’s staying behind once we leave this mess. Now, to check if everybody’s present, I want you guys to say ‘Buster Wolf’ after I ask ‘are you okay,’ capiche?” Terry briefed, his hands holding both of his hips. The wrestlers didn’t say much. It seemed that the only answer they could provide was either a nod or an exaggerated jargon. “Okay… Looks like we’ve come to an agreement, eh? Well, then, let’s get this started, should we? Ready. Set. Are you okay??”

“BUSTER WOLF!!!”

And the wrestlers did exactly that, even complete with the same exaggerated pose that Terry would make whenever the battle cry was shouted and the desperation move executed. For a moment, Terry let out a soft chuckle, the amusing sight soothing all the tensions formed by his muscles.

“Alright, alright… That was a fine impression,” he complimented, clapping his hands then striking his thumbs up. “Sounds like we’re ready to go now, huh? Alrighty, what are we—”

“Wait, hold up,” Alex interrupted, his open hand extending at Terry. He’d been standing right next to the older blonde, narrowing blue eyes inspecting each and every wrestler when he came to one realization. “Where’s Ángel?”

“Angel?”

The misspelling aside, Terry recognized her. The erstwhile NESTS agent had been Alex’s training partner and on-screen rival for a while now, working a match together every week at Antonov’s GAW. He knew how Ángel looked, so all he had to do was to see if a black-clad, silver-haired lady was nestled between the crowd of towering, sweating men, but so far? He found nobody remotely similar. Instead, he only heard the slightest hints of pleading noises coming from beyond the lobby. He became alerted. He also noticed that there was one more fighter still left behind upon further inspection.

“Damn, you’re right about that,” Terry agreed, his worried eyes going wide. “And it’s not just Angel. I think Cody’s missing, too.”

“Should we—”

“No, Alex,” Terry interrupted, then placed a hand over his shoulder, avoiding the New Yorker from striding further. “You don’t have to. You guys just leave, okay? I’ll go find Cody and Angel.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Terry told Alex. “Just go and save yourself! Get your fellas outta here. And you too…” He gave his fellow Seekers an urging glance past his shoulder. “You, too, just go and get my pals outta the Flats, okay? We’ll meet again, I promise.”

Of course, not all of them chose to leave, as Yayama decided to stay behind to save those who’d been buried under the ruins. Terry, too, did the same thing, as he followed the sources of the pleading noises he heard beforehand. Some he managed to save, while others, unfortunately, didn’t make it. It etched his heart to see the variety of expressions the demised casualties made upon being discovered—some rested peacefully with both eyes closed, while some appeared as if they’d left their vessels mid-thought with just how wide their glassy eyes stared at the broad hole at the ceiling. And to think that many of them weren’t even locals to begin with. Just a bunch of clueless tourists getting caught in a web of death. Along his path, as he rescued the injured guests sandwiched under the concrete, he eventually stumbled across Cody and Ángel at the courtyard, both fighters still occupied by the badly damaged Jacks. Even the motel’s collapsing state and the scattering corpses didn’t seem to bother them, either, given their gleaming conditions.

“Hola, hermoso!” Ángel greeted from afar, her smirk cheeky, as she laid the smacketh down on her opponent’s iron ass. “Do you smell what the cat’s cookin’~?”

“Sounds like the wolf wants to have some fun, too,” Cody quipped, picking and throwing a small rubble after another at the staggered Jack droid. He soon knocked the machine out cold with barrages of hardhitting kicks, both his latter spinning kick and its violet energy spark restructuring the metal visage completely. “Crash! Ha ha! FINISH!!”

At the rowdy sight, Terry sighed, then shook his head, realizing that he was the only one of the three not being affected by Galeem’s influence. “Yeah, yeah… Y’all cook ’em well, alright? But now ain’t the time to fight to death. Those Jacks are done for. Let’s get outta here!” he told the two, only to be ignored. He huffed, then crossed his arms under his broad chest, his cheeks puffing. “Hmph! Are you two blind or what? Can’t see there are dead bodies all over the place?? Jesus Christ! Sounds like it’s gonna take a long time till I can get you rascals outta here…”




He’d heard Band loud and clear over his linkpearl. The Seekers had agreed to gather at Quick Rise, which means he’d need to take an elevator back to the Low Tier. Thankfully, the fight didn’t last as long as he’d anticipated, thanks to the Jack-8 unit’s damaged form, so he could catch up with the crew in time.

As the coffee house was reached, Terry pushed the front door open, appearing in his usual trucker getup. He’d tidied and worn his hair back in a ponytail, his iconic baseball cap around the crown of his golden head. Whistling, he gave Band, Yayama, Harry, and Kim a waving hand, striding close to their table.

“Yo, sup? Toldcha, right?” he asked with a feigned snicker, then joined the two, dropping his duffle bag close to where he sat. Thankfully, the bag was still in a decent condition, albeit slightly torn by one of the raining rubbles. He wished all those dead guests were as fortunate as all the items stowed beneath his bag. “Man… that was insane! Glad we all made it outta that mess alive. Could’ve sworn we were almost stuck right there and then.”

Which reminded Terry of both times he was trapped under the ruins of the self-detonating NESTS bases. It was a miracle that he survived both tragedies back to back, making him realize that maybe he was more durable than he thought he was. Thankfully, he didn’t repeat the same rookie mistake that got himself caught beneath the ruins, crushing the falling debris into smithereens before they came in contact with either himself or people around him. However, despite his success in rescuing half of the guests, it still bothered him that he didn’t get to save every single one of them by the end of the day, given the haunting sight of the inanimate corpses he encountered beforehand.

Heh. Right. I guess we can’t be heroes all the time, huh? If only all of us actually made it outta that building, both Seekers and not-Seekers…

He sighed, then pursed his lips, inwardly blaming himself for their deaths in spite of his effort to keep as many people alive. As Terry gave ear to the group’s conversation, his vigilant gaze wandered his vicinity, making sure that nobody suspicious was following nor watching them. At the same time, a Mii waitress closed in, taking his orders which consisted of a pretzel and some hot java. So far, nothing had alerted him, his burdened, blue eyes eventually stumbling upon the TV perching by the wall ahead of their table. It showed a popular news station in Esaka called ‘News Combo 7,’ and the headline was, to nobody’s surprise…




“And now we have an update on the recent explosion accident. The Ikari Forces had arrived at the Banishing Flats to start the investigation. Due to the sheer size of the explosion, unfortunately, several casualties were found injured and dead inside the building. According to the chief officers Commander Heidern and General Sonya Blade, the cause of the explosion is yet to be identified. However, the metal remains of what appears to be G-Corporation’s Jack-5 units discovered under the ruins are still believed to be connected with this unfortunate incident. We will continue to provide the latest updates on this hot topic moving forward after the commercial break.”

Terry absently watched as the newscaster reported the incident that claimed the very civilians occupying his mind, his knuckles propping up his cheek. He didn’t seem quite sharp due to the lack of sleep and the beat down given to him earlier by the Jacks. His mind wasn’t any better, either, especially after what he’d just seen beforehand. Following the news was an advertisement for the Fatal Fury Dojo offering a 45% discount for new applicants. While he was sad to see the downfall of the Middle Tier dojo he once attended in real time, he didn’t quite pay attention until two random figures were mentioned. The advertisement stated that the new applicants would receive ‘exclusive tutorings’ from Rival Schools’ Roberto Miura and Street Fighter’s Dee Jay. A peculiar decision, he thought. Despite being a rising star in Japan’s Under-18 soccer league, young Roberto hadn’t even graduated from the Rival Schools Dojo just yet. And while he didn’t question Dee Jay’s impressive feats and highly acclaimed music career, he thought why recruited somebody from the Street Fighter Dojo when they could’ve easily asked actual alumni like him, Mai, Tizoc Dinosaur, or even Geese’s own stooges to mentor upstart fighters?

Not that I wanted it, anyway, now that the dojo’s managed by Geese. Gosh, dude, he’s such a dumbass! I thought he knew better about fightin’ biz.

Disappointed, Terry covered his face and shook his head, trying to see how collaborating with literal celebrities who had zero connections with the dojo was good for business, let alone hiring them as mentors. What he saw on the TV screen really didn’t help at all. As other Seekers began to fill the coffee house one by one, the brawny blonde noticed something. Nadia was palpably absent. She was nowhere to be seen at both the Flats and the Rise nor had he heard anything from her over the linkpearl. With a worried look, he uncovered his face and shifted his attention back to his comrades, his gaze drifting from one Seeker to another.

“Hey, guys, I was just wondering, has anybody seen Ms. Fortune this morning?” Terry asked, forearms reclining atop the table, slightly fidgeting on his seat. “I don’t think I saw her anywhere at the Flats. Really hope she’s doin’ okay…”

Hopefully, Nadia wasn’t one of the people being caught under the rubbles. She couldn’t be eradicated, could she? He’d already seen firsthand how she withstood being hurled through a Teahouse wall yesterday, her body parts literally dissecting and splicing together in a split second. Even if she did survive (which she probably did), he could already imagine her feeling bad that she’d caused them enough trouble, though he’d like to believe it was barely her fault. While highly possible, it wasn’t guaranteed that Kazuya was the one sending the droids, either, since the G-Corp also sold them to other shady syndicates like Howard Connection and Black Dragon. After all, it might just be Terry’s fault, too, that he nearly revealed what he saw during the Teahouse debacle in front of Geese. With that being said, could the culprit possibly be…?

Oh, no…

FIN.

The morning, despite the general entertainment of the night, came roughly for Grima. For all her efforts, sleep never came easily to this vessel, and because of that Grima woke rather irritable, though the took the time to stop by a relatively quaint cafe near to her temporary home: A small place held an outdoor dining area and was quiet enough that Grima did not despise being there. Either way, Grima did not actually care: The focus of her visit was simply to get a cup of tea to jolt her body into awareness.

After all, today was the day the brackets would be revealed to her and every worm that infested this city.

The idea ran through Grima’s mind as she took a slow drink of her beverage. This tournament was her main reason for being in this wretched city in the first place, though she had to wonder who she would encounter as her opponents. Fools she expected to see by the dozen, but perhaps she could also find a few… Like minded individuals in the roster that she could recruit to her cause. The resurrection for her true self was a road that would be long and hard, and establishing a following would be vital to seeing her plans through.

A distinct rumbling tore Grima from her musings, the vessel lifting her head as the crowd around her looked around in confusion… Only for a massive, clawed foot to crash upon the ground at the end of the street, sending people dispersing in a panic. The foot’s owner belonged to that of a massive, dinosaur-like dragon, ignoring the dispersing crowd and locking its maddened red eyes with hers. A few tense seconds pass between the two as the street clears of onlookers, most simply civilians trying to get out of the way of the dragon that had appeared. But Grima stood her ground, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she stood from her chair, calmly making her way out of the cafe, “Ah… A beast that sees beyond the veil. That is rather… Disappointing” the vessel states, letting out an annoyed sigh as she draws her sword, a gleaming iron blade, “I knew something would eventually find me… But it’s rather insulting that a mindless creature was the one to do so first.”

The dragon, Hauzer, simply roared in rage before it began to charge forward, the ground shaking with each step. Grima herself simply raised her other hand, a dark aura surrounding her before firing out a series of dark magical spheres. Only a few missed, the rest directly colliding with Hauzer’s form, but the dragon simply continued, focused on its one goal. The sight caused Grima to frown, but she lowered her arm, taking a step forward and twirling her sword in her hand. Soon enough, Hauzer closed the distance, lifting its foot to slam down upon Grima’s form, only to miss completely as the vessel twirls to the side, slashing out with their blade into Hauzer’s flesh.

The stinging pain only served to enrage the dragon further, the beast turning to swipe at Grima with its smaller front claws, its tail smashing into buildings on the opposing side of the street. Grima simply stepped back, parrying the swipes and clenching her fist, magic pooling around her hand right before a series of shadowy tendrils shot up from the ground, several stabbing into Hauzer’s torso and a few attempting to bind their mouth shut. Unfortunately, Hauzer simply thrashed its head, tearing the tendrils from the ground before abruptly firing a fireball from its mouth, the sheer speed of it managing to catch Grima off guard, the vessel barely managing to brace herself before being sent flying tumbling back, wisps of flames catching on her cloak before being smothered by wisps of darkness.

With this, Hauzer’s offensive started in full, the beast thrashing, clawing, biting, and stomping as it tried to catch Grima, and though the vessel was capable of dodging, the sheer ferocity left her no real opening to utilize, forcing her to continue retreating and barely dodging the dragon’s onslaught.

Eventually however, a viscous headbutt that couldn’t be dodged sent Grima skidding back, gritting her teeth as she held her guard… For all of a few seconds before Hauzer swung its head up, shattering the vessel’s guard and sending their sword flying through the air and impaling into the ground several meters away. Grima herself staggered back, her eyes widened at being disarmed… Right before Hauzer’s foot was raised and smashed onto Grima’s body, crushing her underneath his weight and cratering the street underneath. While the claws on the foot did not touch Grima, the sheer weight was enough to do the job, the Fell Dragon’s vessel struggling underneath with only one hand free, the other pinned under the dragon’s claw. Unfortunately, her struggles quickly ceased as her red eyes snapped up, seeing embers gather around Hauzer’s mouth and forcing her to quickly erect a dark barrier in front of her with her one hand.

A mere moment later, Hauzer breathed a jet of pure flame down at his own foot, warping around the dark barrier that Grima had put up and scorching the ground around her. From an outsider’s perspective, the Fell Dragon’s vessel was completely engulfed in flames… Before the breath of fire intensified in several stages, as if the dragon was trying to strictly purify Grima’s presence from this world and ensure nothing remained by blackened ashes. For a few moments, it seemed as if it was succeeding.

At least until a flash of purple light emerged from the flames, a cloud of shadows bursting forth and sending Hauzer flying into the air, launched by a sheer concussive force. The shadows did not rest however, and a large black mass shot out from the mist, one of a building sized wyrm with large wings and six blazing red eyes. It flew into the air, crashing into Hauzer once more before quickly wrapping its body around the maddened dragon, constricting it to a point where even they couldn’t struggle free,

“YOU… DARE TO HARM ME? TO PURIFY ME WITH YOUR PALTRY FLAMES? I AM BEYOND YOU, SAVAGE BEAST” the entity spoke, its words more like a telepathic announcement towards everything nearby, including Hauzer, whose attempt to gather flame into its mouth was met by their body constricting even tighter, “I AM THE WINGS OF RUIN… I AM MORE THAN PETTY, MINDLESS ANIMALS. I AM-”

Suddenly their words cease, the massive head snapping to the side as cracks of light began to travel across the street, quickly snaking their way to the battlefield where both Hauzer and Grima’s vessel fought. The shadowy form seemed to let out a grunt of annoyance, before quickly dispersing, letting Hauzer fall from the sky and crash into the street below. Their vessel lies in the crater that Hauzer created by stomping onto her, slowly pushing themselves over and letting out a series of hacking coughs, spitting a bit of blood onto the floor. With an agonizing level of effort, they rise to their feet, clutching and arm around their chest as the lights along the ground flashed and burst forth from the ground, revealing a trio of machines who resembled walking torii gates, bearing massive batons for one of their arms. The machines step forward, their silent intent clear for Grima, up to the lead one’s baton glowing with light as it approached. Grima grit her teeth, knowing that with her wounds, a fight with these ‘enforcers’ would simply end up poorly for her.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to.

The attention of the machines were quickly shifted as the dust settled around Hauzer, the dragon rising to their feet to glare at Grima. With a mighty roar, they rushed forward, clearly intending to finish what they started… Only to be intercepted by the first machine, bashing the dragon upside the head with their baton. Hauzer simply shifted its focus, ignoring the pain of the blow and instead bashing the machine with its head, sending it flying back as the other two stepped forward, clearly having chosen to prioritize the rampaging beast instead of the wounded culprit.

Grima simply watched the sight for a second, her face falling to one of cold calculation as she slowly walked backwards, making her way to her sword and wrenching it from the ground with one clean motion. Then, as Hauzer continued to thrash against the city’s defenses, Grima walked into the shadows of a nearby alleyway, vanishing into the darkness.

Ft. Sakura and Amateratsu
Words: 2372 (+3) (+3 rapport)

"This is Pit! We're being attacked! Give me a status report, all of you, now!"

This message rung through Sakura and Amaterasu’s linkpearls. Only Sakura had, not wanting to be disturbed while she got her Z’s, instinctively taken hers out and placed it on the nightstand next to the bed. In the meantime, she was happily tangled up in her sheets, blissfully ignorant of the violent bombing happening to the rest of the Seekers.

Amataratsu, lacking hands to do this, and also having very sensitive hearing, had no such luxury. On the very first word, she awoke with a start. By the third she was up on her paws, glancing around. By the end, she’d clued in to what was happening, and was entirely ready to make a run all the way to the city to help.

A glance to her side found that she was the only one in that condition, as Sakura continued to sleep soundly. She spied the street fighter’s link pearl on the table with her lupine eyes, and promptly grabbed it in her jaw before more or less pouncing onto Sakura’s bed to wake her up to try and get her to take the pearl. In doing so, she did not quite taking into account the fact that the human’s night vision was considerably worse than her own.

Nor did she take into account how sound a sleeper Sakura was. ”It’s too early, Snowball-kun…” She mumbled in Japanese. Her hand reached up and weakly pat in the general direction of Amaterasu’s head. ”Good boy…” She turned away from Amaterasu and started snoring quietly again.

Amaterasu made a sound of disappointed disgruntlement, dropped the pear in the process, panicked and kicked it up with her paw, then lunged forwards to snap it out there air and only just avoided swallowing it as a result. It was pretty slobbery as a result of all this when the wolf tried to directly insert the pearl into Sakura’s ear.

This sudden wet willy revolted Sakura awake, her eyes squeezing tighter before flashing open. ”Ehhh nani nani?!” She brought her arm up to shove the source of the feeling away from her, knocking the linkpearl loose. A moment passed and she remembered where she was.

”Amaterasu-san, please don’t do that!” She grabbed the blanket and started wiping her ear off. All she could make out as the vague impression of the divine wolf in the darkness.

Said impression promptly ducked down to go after the link pearl, only to find it had rolled its way under the rather low bed. This forced her to duck down and bap a clawed paw around under there to get it, making lots of annoying scrabbily noises on the wooden floor in the process.

”What’s going on?” Sakura asked blearily. She rubbed her eyes, but it’s not like she could see much of anything. She leaned over the side of the bed and gave Amaterasu a few pats. Then she let herself droop over the side of the bed and landed on her hands and knees. She got the impression Amaterasu was trying to get at something under the bed. Sakura lowered her head to get a good look, and was once again treated to a grand vista of near total darkness. Even darker under the bed.

”Uhh…” She blinked slowly. ”...neko-chan?” She asked the darkness. Her best guess was that some kind of cat had snuck it and gotten Amaterasu all riled up. She started reaching around under the bed, though perhaps annoyingly, rarely did she pat the ground itself, preventing her from feeling the link pearl.

The wolf gave up on her mundane paws, and resorted to divine intervention on her own part. She paused the world, drew a swirl, and caused a gust of wind to sweep through the room, causing the link pearl to clatter out from under the bed. It also blew the bedsheet off of the bed and dumped it right on top of them.

”Huh?” Sakura felt a gust of wind and was suddenly ensnared by her own bedsheets. The blanket rose and reached out like a cheap ghost costume as Sakura stood on her knees and felt around. She found the bed and started crawling on top of it.

”I give up, I give up…” She sought to return to bed.

Now was no time for bed, Amataeratsu declared, in a manner only she could: she shoved open the window, and, with a simply drawn ring in the heavens, raised the sun.

Locally.

”No way…” The blanket ghost complained, seeing the sun dimmed through its sheets. ”Impossible…just five more minutes..!” It flopped onto the pillow.

Ameterasu promptly drew a line through the sheet, slicing it in half while leaving the woman inside unharmed, and insistantly presented the now visible in the light of day link pearl.

”Since when am I your enemy?!” Sakura asked, curling into a ball.

The wolf simply continued to insist, making an effort to vaguely wave a paw at the thing in her mouth to draw attention to it in a semi-human manner (something she’d not engage with unless it really was urgent).

Still, she looked at the link pearl. ”What, that?” She left her lower half on the bed and crawled over to the link pearl with her arms, snatching it up, and then laying back down at the bed.

”I can’t believe it's morning already.” She complained, miserable. ”And why is this thing so freakin’ wet?” Frustrated, she wiped it off on her split sheets.

”Was it really necessary to do that? These are perfectly good sheets. Someone probably made it by hand. I mean, this thing really is important, so thanks, I guess…still…” With a yawn, Sakura put the now dry pearl in her ear.

At that moment, the duo's linkpearls activated once more, this time bearing the deep, rich baritone and smooth metallic echo of Big Band. "Heads up y'all, it looks like the storm's mostly blown over. We still got some folks pickin' through the rubble, but those self-destructin' robots are all gone, so there's no more action for the time bein'. Only person unaccounted for is Ms Fortune, though I suspect she ain't dead either, seein' as her whole shtick is not dyin'. I s'pose we're gonna split up and lay low for now. Band over and out."

”Uhh, huh..? Something happened over at Banishing Flats in the night. I guess it’s all good now, though…” Sakura stood up in place and stretched, forcing herself to begin the day.

Beside her, the divine wolf promptly flopped down into her bed again in utter exasperation of her wasted effort. Yes, she thought, it was good that it was all over, but still, the frustration was palpable.

”Eehh? After all that, now you wanna stay in bed? How is that fair?” Sakura walked over and started shoving down on the wolf.

The wolf simply ignored her, waiting for her ink to recharge. Then with a sketch she filled back in the slice she’d made in the bedding, and with a half circle in the sky, promptly put the sun down again, plunging the village back into its natural night.

Sakura blinked, suddenly plunged back into darkness. ”Wh-what! That was you?!”

”You bastard! Gimme my sleep back!” She fumbled around in the darkness to grab Amaterasu and rub her knuckle into her head. The wolf, utterly confused by this sensation, was stunned for a few heartbeats, before she promptly started to try and wiggle her way out of the grab.

She would escape, but not before being thoroughly bonked by a pillow smash. Sakura kept trying to smack in the wolf’s general direction.

The wolf took this for a few hits, before grabbing a pillow from her den in her jaw, and then using that to try and bap the streetfighter right back.

Sakura was unprepared but undeterred, swinging away in the darkness. ”I’ll get you for this!” She declared. She tossed her pillow away and went for a blind tackle, thudding onto the floor instead. There, she stayed. Now that she had fallen over it was impossible to get up.

Amaterasu reeled her pillow back for a finishing blow. Paused. Mentally sighed. Then went for a mercy kill.

A swirl of wind launched the dropped bedsheet up into the air, then two lines filled the already dark room with mist, during which Amaterasu moved fast. She tossed the pillow under the slow falling blanket, grabbed Sakura by the scruff of the shirt, and then back flipped to slam her over head and down onto the bed, head landing neatly on the pillow. Then she drew two more lines, slowing time again, during which she grabbed each corner of the falling bedsheet and neatly tucked them in, leaving Sakura, in eight seconds of work and two seconds of real time, squared away back in bed again.

After such an efficient putting to bed, Sakura seemingly had no more complaints. Once second she was falling to sleep on the floor, there was a brief rush of movement, and she was back in bed like nothing had ever happened! ”Uhm…” She muttered, but her eyes had already closed again for the evening.

Satisfied with her work, and now quite sure she wouldn’t have to do this again because Sakura was now sleeping with the link pearl in her ear, the wolf padded over to her own nest and settled down to get as much shut eye as she could manage. They had a big day tomorrow after all.

She spared not a second thought for how confusing the entire experience of brief sunrise in the middle of the night had been for everyone else in the village.

—

Despite a brief interruption, the two were no worse for wear when the morning actually came. Sakura was doing dynamic stretches by the dirt road, putting all of her weight on one leg and leaning way out to the side, then switching back to the other leg. They were going to be hitching a ride on the villagers cart into town, so that’s where she was waiting. She was very refreshed, even having to get up so early.

”Today’s the big day! Are you excited for your matches, Amaterasu-san?” She asked, shifting from side to side.

”I know I am. I’m not going to hold anything back. I’m gonna win this thing!” She grinned. ”Then, I’ll smash that rotten M. Bison into smithereens.”

The wolf bore her teeth in response, not as a smile, but as an approval of and agreement with her readiness for the fighting to come. She might not have a personal vendetta against the part of the guardian heading their tournament, but there was no backup plan if her team got knocked out of the tournament, and so she’d be giving it her all.

Just not right now.

As the street fighter stretched, the divine wolf lounged on a patch of grass by the road, conserving energy.

Soon enough, their ride, and its driver Pete arrived, ready to transport them, and a whole host of veggie goodies to market. Along with them, a fair chunk of the town turned out to wave them off and wish them good luck in the tournament (which they intended to listen to over the radio).

“We’ll be cheering you on! Go give them what for!” the mayor called out as part of this, prompting a cheer from the crowd.

”Bye bye!!! Thank youuu!” Sakura waved and responded until they were all out of sight.

Once they were out of the village, and a gaggle of kids that had run after them to wish them further luck had been left behind, they settled in for the slow but steady ride to the city. Amatarasu found a clear shot in the wagon itself, where she lay herself down to have a little extra shut eye, leaving Sakura to sit up front and small talk with Pete. Smalltalk which started with “well wasn’t that the darndest thing last night? With the sun and all?”

”You saw that?” Sakura asked Pete, before glancing over her shoulder at Amaterasu. ”I think that was my wolf friend. She’s good at that kind of thing. I- I’m not really sure how that works, to be honest.” She admitted. As she talked, she casually hopped off the cart and started jogging along side it.

It was only when they were getting close that the duo got the call from Big Band. The man might be an early riser, but he hadn’t managed to beat the farmers at this game, and the pair had woken up on their schedule in order to catch this ride into town. As it turned out, the cafe he’d chosen was popular with the visiting farmers as well, and so the duo’s ride got parked nearby, and its driver was more than happy to show them there.

”Thank you Pete-san!” She called out, though she had jogged the latter half of the trip anyway.

Upon arriving, they spotted a gaggle of seekers, and headed over, with Amaterasu thinking a greeting the Lalafell’s way, and enquiring how she, and everyone, was doing after the commotion she’d heard about over the linkpearl.

”Hey! We’re back! Sorry, guys, I wish I coulda been there to help out at Banishing Flats. Did the Consuls have something to do with it? It’s not very Esaka friendly conduct.” She said, thinking aloud.

While the others got a rude awakening that night, the koopa kids slept soundly out of radio contact range, namely up on the avenger in their own room. On top of a free rest, they also got to dig into the resources that the seekers had been sending back to it, namely a lovely sushi dinner made from a combo of the giant fish they’d helped catch, and the various ingredients retrieved by the white team. It’d be quite the treat, had then not just come off of a week of eating seafood at Bancho Sushi day in day out. The change in chef did give it its own twist to the meal, but both somewhat regretted not grabbing something novel from Shinjuku before they left (other than bubble gum).

The next day, despite their desires, the pair were up with the dawn thanks to living on ship time, which left both sister and brother both grumbling and complaining about the ship’s AI, Hope, having set their alarm for them after they crashed into bed the prior night.

Once up however, youthful energy had seen them rushing to grab shipside breakfast (fruit and grains from Flowerbud Village), before heading down from the ship to go re-link up with the rest of the team now that their little side activity was over. They had, after all, said they’d be there to cheer on the fighters when they got into their matches. Plus, though their mission had gotten pretty sidetracked, they did have some informational spoils from it.

When it came to their original objective, Eunie and Taion hadn’t been the most informative when it came to cassette beasts, mainly by confirming that, yes, it was the accruement of damage that built up a hypothetical meter. Importantly, however, they also learned that said meter’s charge lingered between battles, rather than needing to be filled in a single fight.

When it came to interlinks, they’d informed them that it took a strong bond and a ‘defining moment’ to pull it off the first time, and thus wasn’t really something they could teach. They’d simply know how to do it when the moment came, now that they knew it was possible.

The key informational bombshell, as far as they were concerned, they dropped as soon as they caught up with the other seekers, having used a warp painting to skip the trek into town they’d all had to take the day before.

”Hey guys! Guess who knows how to shatter flame clocks!” Jr announced with ample amounts of cockyness. Of course, when asked for clarity on this, he had to admit that the whole thing wasn’t that straightforward, mainly because ”Well, uh, we need to get this super specific sword called ‘Lucky Seven’ that some guy called Noah would have apparently”

Unfortunately, while this had been true in their information source’s own world, as a certain king of evil knew, this was total misinformation for Galeem’s copy of the world. The solution was right in front of the seekers, if only they could pool their information and point Eunie and Taion at a clock before their own clocks ran out.

”We also found out that the ‘source engine’ thing’s probably in the empty space” Rika added, as she found a seat. The ship girl had somehow gotten a head shorter than she had been before, despite showing no telltale signs of fusion, and so had to join the Lalafell in perching on the seat rather than sitting on it. Her gear had all been adjusted to her new size the night before, but adjusting to the world being bigger was taking some getting used too.

Once settled she also gave a short amount of context to why they knew this ”We found some people who’d done all of this before. They’re up on the Avenger right now with their lost number kid” which her brother used as a jumping off point to info dump.

”Yeah turns out Galeem can’t even come up with its own way of running its slapped together world. The lost numbers, source engine, Consuls, flame clocks, n all that stuff? All aped from one world. Only new thing is the guardians, which are probably what’s stopping anyone from finding that engine by just crashing a space ship into it. Last one was just hidden in a cloud”

Once settled in, and after having answered any other questions they could be bothered answering, Rika asked ”So how’d it go over here?” before the pair got stuck into a light second breakfast. Growing kids needed their nutrients after all, especially if, in the shipgirl’s case, they needed to catch back up to where they were before.

Sectonia was looking for someone to crush the spirit of the guardian they had defeated in the operations room, but that would have to wait until they reached their next destination as many of their stagecoach pullers had perished. Speaking of getting to that next destination, it relied on something called a hypertube, something Sectonia wasn't familiar with. She had technology, but it wasn't at this level. She looked at Blazermate to see if she knew anything about this, but the Medabot looked just as confused as to what she was seeing.

A bit of an explanation later, Sectonia decided to be one of those in the stagecoach. Mostly because she'd prefer not to be rocketed by her crown and sword through the tube. Blazermate meanwhile went with whoever was going before the carriage to heal them, her metal body able to be propelled through the tube.

Going through the tube itself, Blazermate would find she was surprisingly one of the better of the group to be outside the stagecoach as the various abilities and powers she had gained through their journey came in handy here. Short of a direct hit from all the projectiles littering the tube, she could successfully deflect them and take no damage. What damage she did take she could heal herself, or use her projectile shield to protect the stagecoach from the debris for a time. Although her own projectile attacks didn't really help so there wasn't much healing outside of her own healing beam.

Sectonia meanwhile, while inside the stagecoach, could still support those outside with her magic. A chaos shield would help whoever was taking the vast majority of damage to defend the stagecoach which seemed to be Blazermate at times. Although she couldn't do much outside of that or healing anyone who got close with a death pulse with her fast projectiles being deflected and her larger projectiles being too slow.

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



Roland spent the rest of the night at another motel in the lower tiers much like the rest of the group. He kept his mask on to evade whatever threat there might be, and while he didn't sleep comfortably, he managed to get some shut eye. Awoken by commotion on the linkpearl, Roland got up, got ready, and made his way to the spot Band offered them all to meet up to see who survived. Well, as he was making his way there, that would be clarified as everyone but Ms. Fortune. He didn't seem to be that worried about her, so Roland took his word for her surviving as well and met the other seekers at Quick Rise.

Roland was concerned with who orchestrated the attack the past night as Jr. and Rika came up with some vague mission information. Roland listened to what they said, but knowing the least out of the seekers not encountered here at Eseka, there weren't a whole lot of conclusions he could come up with. But he did get the jist of some of it. "So... First we've gotta find a special sword. Of course its a sword. As for the other thing, the world runs in cycles. That sounds familiar..." Roland said. He then grabbed his food and informed the two on what they missed. "Many of us have signed up for tournaments. This region's Guardian is split into 4, the Heavenly Kings, who each run a tournament. We'll know our placements and brackets in like an hour or so. Also someone apparently tried blowing someone up last night, although i'm not sure who."

Speaking of that, Roland turned to Big Band and Zenkichi. "I don't know about you two, but I want to find out who tried to blow us up last night. You don't take a swing at a fixer and just get away with it unless your cunning, powerful, or sneaky enough. And considering their logo was on their helicopters, we know where to look. Something called G corp. And I'm thankful its not the G corp i know. Otherwise it would've been more... impactful" Roland said, trying to give a bit of an insightful pun for something no one here would understand, with his version of G corp being able to freely control Gravity.

”What in the world happened here?” Was Edward’s (slightly accusatory) question upon returning to the stagecoach and finding it now lacked half its pulling team.

Sandaphlon updated the duo as they returned with Eve from their portion of disengaging the Hypertube lock. Ramattra was more concerned of the contents of the Coach rather than the culled Reindrix, because he understood well before the suggestion that using their samples could produce creatures to replace them, if needed. He was just that many steps ahead, or just that biased in hindsight.

Edward recalled one of the Reindrix himself, retrieved the fallen spirits of the other four, before directing the iron golems forwards to replace them. Somewhat. Rather than hooked up in a row, he placed them to either side of the front of the stagecoach, shields locked together to form a wedge rather akin to a train’s snowplow. If the way the hypertube worked was as explained, then they wouldn’t be doing much pulling, and instead were there to lightly steer around what obstacles they could, and to take the brunt of any they could not.

Still, armor was one thing, but Edward was a skirmisher at heart, and the best defence was making sure your foes never reached your shield wall to begin with.

While Edward had prepared the Stagecoach for entry into the Hypertube, Ramattra stepped close to the human commander, nodding as he assembled the golems as temporary mounts. “Perhaps we should ask our large insectoid and TV-headed friends to pull the Stagecoach through the tube?” It was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic or insulting.

Within earshot, the TV host would look over the top of the stagecoach, down at Ramattra and Edward, who seemed to be having a conversation about traversing the Hypertube. The CRT did not announce himself yet; strategizing like that was not his strong suit, but he knew listening would be important so that the tube arrived safely with the rest of the group.

”Ramattra! Would you be willing to act as an escort for the stage coach?” he requested, assuming that a lot of the other seekers would just be going their own way, if for no other reason than to avoid potential collisions.

Edward’s request was reasonable, and tactful, seeing as Ramattra was physically the tankiest member of the team at first glance. As well as the two being familiar with each other in and out of the battlefield, they have earned a level of trust and respect for one another. “Of course. Let’s discuss how we can cross the hazards ahead since the Stagecoach makes us the largest target. Perhaps something in our armory before we travel through?”

”Good idea, but let us be quick” Edward said as he brought up an armory screen to pursue the items in storage.

After a bit of checking, Edward picked out the Caldwell Conversion Chain Pistol because it somewhat fit right in his firearm style, mor that shinra’s golden gun anyway, and with 18 shots before its (likely lengthy) reload, it’d have ammo for the full trip.

“Hmm…” The Omnic stared at the screen of the Armory’s catalog, undoubtedly window-shopping for upgrades before they entered the tube as well. Gauging the hazards ahead, Ramattra assumed that they played the biggest role, seeing as most other party members were able to evade or destroy robot threats along the path. “We will need quite some defenses… primarily from those explosive units.” He pointed out the bladed security fighting off tickers. The Skullings would be more threatening to the party members traversing the tube alone, but Ramattra was taking the Stagecoach with Edward.

Through a quick glance, the main item that stuck out to Ramattra was the Enchanted Buckler, which was unwieldy in his Omnic form, but if he were to use it in Nemesis form… He rested the buckler idly on his off-hand so as not to affect his staff when not transformed.

“Loot get!” Tenna announced as he looked down at the screen from atop the stagecoach.

“Ah, yes. Tenna, did you need anything before we went in?” Ramattra seemed hardly surprised to see the TV host, and offered him a chance to be equipped for the coming defense. Tenna thought for a moment and selected the Comically Large Spoon, a domedic weapon with cartoonish properties that was on brand for Tenna’s silliness. The Omnic stared at the absurdity before him for a moment before giving Edward the “all clear.”

”Of all the things to see repeated use” Edward said quietly with a disbelieving headshake, but he couldn’t help giving a little smile afterwards. If it worked, he wasn't going to complain. Not that he had particularly high expectations of Tenna at the moment, given he was part of the team that had lost half the Reindrix while the rest were away, but he was willing to be surprised.

With everything ready to go, Edward took his spot on the driver’s seat of the stage coach, one hand firmly on for support, the other holding his eighteen shooter at the ready. Then, with a slow trudge, the coach was slowly dragged forwards by the iron golems. Slow at first anyway. They came to a stop when the metal golems lost traction with the ground, only to then launch forwards at speed when the coach was pushed in.

It was a near thing, but Edward and his constructs managed to all stay on/attached to the coach, with the golems taking up the snowplow formation, overlapping auras reinforcing each other against potential impacts.

Potential impacts were to be found in relative abundance, as it turned out, and at least one pallet was dashed against the iron wall, the arrow shape causing the debris to ricochet out the side rather than showering the stagecoach itself. The larger obstacles, such as the skiffs and containers, had to be avoided entirely however, resulting in the coach itself being something in need of avoiding.

Edward, well used to yelling across noisy battlefields and crowds, put his pipes to work to shout out warnings of incoming shrapnel and maneuvering events to anyone following close enough behind as to be at risk, or riding the stagecoach and thus vulnerable to being tossed around/off it.

Seeing as transportation across the tube would be stable enough for the Omnic to ride on top of the Stagecoach, Ramattra took his place atop the vehicle, just behind Edward, holding on to any of its protrusions. Tenna resided within the coach, with two Tommy gun henchmen peeking out of the back door, ready to fire at any hostiles.

The threats in the tube quickly took notice of the large stagecoach making its way along the air, and those that were not attended to quickly made themselves problematic. The most frustrating of which were the Skullings, who took notice of the large sentient robot riding on top. They flung themselves at the Omnic, seemingly trying to latch onto Ramattra and possess him, but were quickly deflected by a swift staff strike. They were annoying, but weak.

The other two hostels were more of a concern, that was for certain, particularly because they created conflicting patterns of instinct.

Accurate revolver round shots and tommygun sprays made short work of the explosive tickers, which was good as they needed to be dealt with quickly lest they get too close and their blast radius hit the stagecoach.

The Cymuls meanwhile absolutely could not be shot, as Edward discovered upon being struck in the shoulder by one of his own pistol shots as it reflected off of the metal drone, leaving him vulnerable as the machine came spinning towards him at high speed.

Tenna, who had been directing his shadowy henchmen’s fire towards the tickers in the tunnel, had noticed Edward struggling to manage both the Stagecoach and fend it off from hazards. While the maneuver was quite risky and required Tenna to leave the safety of the stagecoach, his allies were preoccupied. Just in the nick of time before the defensive metal drone sliced away at Edward, Tenna got along the side of the Stagecoach next to him, and used the large metallic spoon like a baseball bat to swing the Cymul away with a satisfying clong.

Ramattra, had noticed that the Cymuls recognized the stagecoach as a threat and transformed into Nemesis Form to pummel and swat away any others that had closed in.

”Much appreciated” Edward said to Tenna, his opinion of the strange man raising a notch in response to the save. Then, once he’d had his feather staff striker heal him, before taking back up his role of bomb shooting, a stressful job of rapid target identification, where taking too long would result in being blasted, and being wrong would result in being shot. The sooner the ride was over, the better.

By the time that Banishing Flats was reduced to blazing rubble, most of the Seekers were accounted for. Some had escaped and waited outside for their companions, watching the flames as firefighters in blue jumpsuits with red and white jackets over them arrived at the scene. Others had dove back into the wreckage, or never left in the first place, eager to help whoever and however they could. Either way the majority of them were clustered around the remains of the motel, which left Therion -technically present but separated- in the unique position to spot something very unusual: the shape of a man on a rooftop overlooking the blaze, speaking into an ear piece not unlike how the Seekers used their linkpearls.

The figure left after a few moments, headed in the opposite direction that the flying machines branded with 'G' were. That Therion found even more suspicious than the fact that the man was there at all. With his feline eyes helping his night vision, the thief could tell that the guy was observing and reporting on what was going on, but if he was just meant to confirm a successful attack to his employers wouldn't he have headed back to the same headquarters? So in this case was there some other party at play here - Moebius, or something else entirely?

Therion intended to find out. He was used to living while looking over his shoulder, but that didn't mean he liked doing it. And if safety in numbers was no longer enough of a deterrent, he at least wanted to know who he should be watching out for. With a quiet mention of his choice to investigate to the others over the pearl, Therion slipped away from his position on his own adjacent roof and started after the mystery player.

It wasn't easy, because this guy was fast. He made maneuvering over the buildings of the Mid-Tier without drawing the attention of those below awoken by the explosions seem like child's play, his familiarity with the city giving him an easy advantage over Therion. The thief's own speed and subtlety was something he prided himself on, but chasing his quarry without being noticed himself was proving to be a challenge. The mix of purples and blacks he was dressed in thankfully blended wonderfully into Esaka's pre-dawn shadows, and he had clamped down on the small bit of chain link that dangled from the manacle locked around his wrist to ensure that he made hardly a sound as he moved.

Pursuer and pursued were two flashes of darkness above the streets as they got farther from the scene of destruction, dancing shades with a distance between them that never closed. Therion didn't want to catch the man after all, he wanted to see where he was going, who he was with. But as quick and quiet as Therion was, he was a thief - not an assassin, and definitely not a spy.

His target's direction had been changing while being tailed, enough to notice but not question... at first. Then the man disappeared behind the spire of a pagoda and did not reappear. Immediately Therion's hackles were raised, and he dropped down into the space between two sloping rooftops. Damn! I've been had. He knew!

Therion didn't stop moving, sprinting down the narrow alley as soon as he landed. His ears stood tall on his head as he listened for any encroaching danger, but it was only the subtle chime of the Chill Out Badge he'd smelted that alerted him to a surprise attack.

The thief slid to a sudden stop and jerked himself to one side as Raven appeared from the shadows in front of him. The man's blade narrowly missed Therion's neck as he hit the wall to his right, and he lashed out with his own dagger swiftly torn free from his belt. The knives met each other with a brief spark of metal on metal, but neither wielder pressed the attack. They separated, facing each other down in the middle of the alley. It was still mostly night at that time, creating the illusion that behind each of them was nothing but darkness. Therion's single visible eye flickered over Raven, noting everything about the man that he could. His haircut, facial scar, and the tattoos on his arms all stood out, but besides that he was dressed like any other resident. Even behind the shades he could see the man's own gaze linger on his cat ears as he got a similar once over.

"So?" he said. "What wannabe world order are you with?"

Raven wasn't easily baited, but he did reply. "You don't need to know yet."

At his back Therion's tail flicked. He considered if he would be able to weasel some information out of this guy, only a second or so of thought, but during that time Raven was already moving again.

"Don't take this personally," he said, shooting forward at Therion once more. He parried Therion's dagger as the thief reacted, a twist of his wrist disarming his opponent, and with his open hand reached out to grab the cat boy's upper arm.

"Hard not to," Therion bit back, the fist that previously held his weapon bursting into flickering flame as he called on his magic. But Raven's own blade disappeared from his grip and his other hand locked around Therion's forearm, and in one movement he hauled the thief over his shoulder with the intent to throw him into the ground.

Therion swiveled, barely breaking out of the hold as he was tossed. He landed on one knee instead of his back with just enough time to throw an easily dodged fireball and jump backward out of the way of one of Raven's boots slamming down on top of him in an axe kick. The mysterious agent was quick to give chase until Therion stepped into a rain puddle, disappearing into it like he'd been sucked into the water.

"Ninjutsu?" Raven questioned, the barest amount of surprise coloring his voice. The word meant nothing to Therion, and from a different puddle behind the man he emerged as silent as a ghost with a new dagger in hand. He took his chance.

Just before Therion's blade connected with Raven's back, the man glanced over his shoulder like he knew that Therion was there all along. He reached back and clamped a heavy hand on the dip between Therion's own shoulder and his neck before pressing down and flipping himself up and over Therion's head. Both of Raven's feet kicked out as he came down behind Therion, slamming the thief face-first into a wall. "...but you are no ninja."

Therion spun around with an aggressive, violent slash of his poisoned dagger, but his opponent was no longer right next to him. One of his ears twitched and he looked up to where Raven had seemingly teleported, and not even a moment later the man's fist connected with Therion's head in a diving punch. The thief stumbled, his brain thoroughly rattled and stars spotting his vision. To add insult to injury Raven swept his legs out from under him and he landed hard on the ground.

It was fortunate that Raven had no need to dispose of the person tailing him, just lose him. As he lay there fighting off encroaching unconsciousness, Therion heard Raven ascend to the roofs again while speaking into his ear piece. "Amending previous message and returning home."

---

In the aftermath of the attack, Pit had dug himself out of the motel ruins with his Orbitars. The divine shields had protected him, and consequently the small group of guests that had congregated around him, from the worst of the explosions. He'd summoned the shimmery, rainbowy light barrier around them all when the building collapsed on top of them, and afterwards threw a chunk of ceiling off of him and helped a few wrestlers to their feet. All of them were at least a little battered (Pit included, who was worse off), small bruises and burns on their bodies and their clothes torn and smudged, but for the gleaming with no target to trigger their aggressive retaliation they could escape the burning wreckage and wait for the Burning Rangers to douse the flames before they even tried to retrieve any personal items from what had once been their rooms. Given the state of the motel though, there was probably nothing left. Even now among the building's ashes were the ashes of people that hadn't made it out, signaled by little glowing motes of light that were their spirits.

The thought to collect them didn't even cross his mind as he flitted around the area, checking in on his team. When he'd called out for a status report he hadn't heard back from everyone. The ones that did call back to him he was grateful for, because those who hadn't worried him enough to stick around to make sure everyone was safe and accounted for, which meant being in the heart of Banishing Flats when it imploded, which meant being singed and sore while he swept the smolders of the area. Thankfully everyone that he knew had been in the motel was present and alright... except for one.

"I'm glad you're all alright," he told the Seekers outside of what was left of the motel. As he said that, a fallen piece of wall shifted and from underneath it an ugly yet familiar chihuahua emerged. It let out a dog's equivalent of a grumble and trotted off back towards the elevator to the High-Tier.

Primrose watched it go before she moved to the next ally, raising her hands towards them which were filled with a soft, pleasant flame in contrast to the dying inferno in front of them. When she'd escaped she did not go back in for any of the others, instead waiting outside to patch up their wounds. As they filtered out one by one she called forth her Warmth and healed them up. None of them were going to go back to bed injured, if they could even sleep after that at all. The dancer knew she wouldn't be able to.

She'd heard Therion's report of seeing someone out of place and his intent to follow them, but besides the three others on Gold Team that hadn't been around all day there was a noticeable absence. It was odd, too, since as far as Primrose knew Nadia could survive pretty much anything. Was she perhaps stuck in the wreckage, hurting even as her power healed her? Or if this had been lopsided retaliation for the theft, had she been kidnapped and the robots were to cover up any clues?

Cold rage gripped Primrose at the thought of her friend possibly being taken by some man, but given that it was only a possibility and there was no evidence to suggest it, she forced the feeling down. Instead she beckoned Pit over to her, and the angel flitted over at her request. She rested a hand in his hair, healing him with Warmth from the top of his head down.

"Ms. Fortune isn't here," she told him, and Pit fixed her with a serious expression and a nod.

"I know," he told the dancer. "But I'll find her, don't worry."

He spoke so earnestly. The righteous confidence of both an angel and a young boy. After a moment Primrose's hand slipped to his face, her other one joining it on the opposite side, and she tapped him twice on his cheeks as the healing flame flared.

"Thank you. Let me know. I'll be making myself scarce for now."

She didn't want any bad actors to follow her, and she needed time to lose any eyes the Seekers had on them. There had been at least one person keeping watch on the situation by Therion's report, but who knew if there were others. Though she wasn't going to sleep, she wanted to rest - and she wouldn't be able to do that without ensuring she wasn't tailed herself before she found somewhere to lie low.

Most of the Seekers split after that, following Big Band reporting for those far afield that the danger had passed. True to his word Pit remained, helping Yayama pull survivors from the rubble while he looked all over for any sign of their wayward cat burglar. If she'd been smashed into pieces she would have started to reform by now, so the lack of any sign of her was sort of concerning... at least until the angel broadened his search and found something curious - a dismembered tan-skinned arm across the street, wedged under the eave of the neighboring building. Pieces of Banishing Flats were all over the area in general on account of having been blasted apart and all, so while gruesome it wasn't all that surprising to know that people had been blasted apart as well. But this arm, still hanging onto a shred of a blue sleeve, was familiar. It also didn't appear to be turning to ashes.

"Eeeugh why does this feel kind of gross," Pit said quietly to himself as he extracted the arm. It was tipped by nails and a torn glove - definitely Ms. Fortune's. Probably. He held it in his own hands, turning it over and watching it flex its fingers. Despite how weird it was, seeing that made Pit's expression brighten. She must be alive!

"Okay, point me in the direction of the rest of you!" he said to Ms. Fortune's arm. Seeing as it was an arm and not a mouth, it did not speak back. It was also not an ear so it probably didn't hear him in the first place. About a minute later Pit realized both of these, and not knowing what else to do with the limb he removed his slightly burnt sash and tied a sling around it. He wasn't exactly sure where his arsenal went when he dismissed them, and he didn't want to try it with one of his friend's body parts. For multiple reasons.

Shaking his head at the absurdity of it, he made his way back to the wreckage.

---

"Yes! Good idea! Anybody know any good places to meet? If so let's go there!"

Captain Pit didn't just agree with Band's suggestion, he was enthusiastic about it. He was starving, maybe a little tired, but mostly hungry - and breakfast sounded fantastic. Once the flames had been put out and Esaka's police and fire force had sectioned off the area Pit had considered finding another motel to stay at (he could have asked Lady Palutena to warp him back to Skyworld for the night, but as nice as that sounded he wasn't about to abandon the rest of the team even if it was only for a few hours), but since he was already up it was easier to just... stay up.

So by the time most of the other Seekers had arrived to Quick Rise, Pit was already there shoveling pancakes rather aggressively into his mouth. Since his chiffon and the other pieces of his outfit had really taken a beating due to the explosions, he'd shown up in his angel page clothes while his regular uniform was getting patched up. In spite of everything he was looking forward to the day, any lingering frustration he had over how last night had gone down melting away with the combination of syrup, butter, and fluffy fried batter.

He'd already said his greetings to the detective, and did the same for everyone else around his food as they trickled in. Among them, Primrose and Therion ambled into the cafe eventually. It was much too late for either of them to claim no association to the Seekers, so unless there was another public attack on them in broad daylight there was little reason not to share a meal with the rest of the team.

Primrose had spent the remainder of the night and early morning awake among strangers, visiting the music bar that she and Nadia had passed before. Though it looked seedy, the clientele were actually rather friendly - and interested in dance. Primrose herself did not indulge, but she somewhat enjoyed watching the bar's patrons hit the dance floor until dawn finally broke and the bartender signaled for last call. In comparison Therion actually had gotten a little sleep, even if it was while passed out from being put down hard by a secret agent in an alleyway.

His awakening had not been pleasant, and he'd nursed a headache until reuniting with Primrose. She pressed the flame of Warmth to his forehead with a raised brow before they sat down with the rest of the group.

By the time Terry entered and expressed his concern that the Seekers had almost met their ends, Pit swallowed his latest bite and looked over at him. "No way! A sneak attack like that wouldn't be able to take us out," he said with a nod. And the proof was sitting all around them, no one too worse for wear.

And when he asked after Ms. Fortune, Pit had something to say about that as well. "I'm sure she's okay! I couldn't find her yesterday... er, well, all of her... but I found her arm and it seems healthy! ...for a severed arm."

It was an outlandish comment to make, but for anyone that knew Ms. Fortune they could get the gist of what he was saying. The angel then glanced at Primrose further down the table. "Primrose is holding onto it. We can give it back when we find her! She probably lost her linkpearl and then just got lost."

Primrose nodded to corroborate the story. She and the team leader had met back up briefly when he called her own linkpearl to tell her what he'd found, after which Primrose claimed possession of her friend's detached limb. She did not take it out from where it was gently nestled in her bag though, not very keen on making a show of the other woman's state even if they weren't in public.

About that time Sakura and Amaterasu rolled in and though they expressed their disappoint with not being around during the attack, Primrose shook her head. "We're not sure. Don't worry about it though, I doubt there was anything either of you could have done to prevent it."

And then there was the surprise appearance of Bowser Jr. and Rika, welcome sights for weary eyes. Especially when they came bearing good news. Therion turned curious eyes on the pair.

"One sword belonging to one guy in the entire world?" he questioned. "I'm not buying it."

He had a point that it was awfully convenient for Moebius if it was true. Perhaps it was only the material the sword was forged from that was important, and they could find said material eventually. Even so, Primrose committed the name of the blade to memory, along with the information on the Source Engine. She wasn't sure how to use it just yet, but it seemed important to know. The fact that Galeem had seemingly copied its method of rule from another world she figured was a given though, even if it didn't end up hailing from that same world itself.

When Rika asked how the rest of the team had been, Pit supplied her with, "good until we all got exploded!"

Though as she could see, they were fine. Roland gave her most of the other details, though when he mentioned not knowing who the mystery assailants were trying to blow up (as Pit interpreted the statement, rather than who the assailants were in the first place) the angel looked over at him and exclaimed, "uh, hello? They tried to blow us up!"

Then Pit turned back to the Koopas. "But yeah, we're all okay! Ms. Fortune's gonna need her arm back when we find her, hopefully she'll meet us at the tournament start, but since you guys came back... Juri's the only one still gone.

"Oh! And I got a phone." He'd hadn't tried texting Junior yet, having been interrupted while still learning about the device after all, but he summoned the smartphone from thin air and let it clatter onto the table in front of the Koopa in case Junior was curious. It did not feature a lock screen and could just be opened by anyone, and besides what came standard on plenty of other phones there were the two unfamiliar app icons of Salty Bets and Palupedia.

On Roland's side of the table, Primrose and Therion listened to him tell the detectives about wanting to look into who tried to take the Seekers out last night. G-Corp being the culprit was a given, whatever that was, but whether it was a one off attack or it was ordered by a higher power they couldn't know. Plus there was the fact that it wasn't the only group involved, which Therion pointed out.

"Plus we can assume the Consuls will learn about us being here soon if they don't already know. Besides them and 'G-Corp,' there's at least one other group with eyes on us too. Yesterday I spotted someone keeping tabs on us and followed them, but..." the thief's arms were already crossed, and his ears flattened down a little on his head. "...well, I didn't find out who he was with. Just that he was probably part of a separate group."

Which made at least three factors to be aware of on top the Four Kings and their tournaments.

"We'll have to be careful," Primrose said with a pointed look at a few of the more boisterous members of their group.

Pit had tuned back in at that point, and though he nodded he also made a general announcement, his voice strong and determined. "We will, but right now our goal's still the same. We'll go through the tournaments to get our shot at the Guardians, and we fight and we win!"

Mokou’s return to the stagecoach was one without much fanfare, the phoenix relatively unharmed (at least, as unharmed as she always was) as she floated nearby, giving a casual wave to Sandalphon as she waited for the rest of the seekers to return. Once they did and every lock was disengaged, the phoenix let out an entertained whistle, taking in the sight of the hypertube and its current state, “Well then, this certainly looks like an interesting path. Suppose I’ll see you all on the other side of this thing-” she states, watching Eve take off by riding her sword like a skateboard before flying into the hypertube itself alongside the stagecoach.

Within the hypertube, Mokou flew with a surprising burst of speed despite her constant casualness, actually managing to outpace the stagecoach as it traveled through. Yet even with her speed, she was nigh untouchable by the debris that littered the hypertube, each crate just barely whizzing by her as she twirled past. Even the Naytiba struggles to catch her, as while Mokou restrained herself from using her feathers in such an enclosed space, she was still able to easily dispatch those that tried to leap onto her by kicking them with legs wrapped in high intensity flames, practically cutting through them as if she was wielding a blade. The only things she did not seem to actively fight were the Cymuls, which seemed to be focusing more on the Naytibas themselves, and were thus lower on Mokou’s priority.

Not long after Band made himself comfortable in the most secluded corner that Quick Rise had to offer, the cafe’s front door opened with a perky ring of the attached doorbell to admit…nobody. Band blinked, then adjusted his gaze downward and caught a glimpse of pastel pink hair with frosted tips. The next moment the newcomer pushed through the queue of coffee-wanting customers lined up at the main counter and strode his way, prompting Band to straighten up and extend her a nod of acknowledgement. There was no need to wave her over; especially in a small building, it was impossible to miss Big Band.

Yayama looked surprisingly chipper, given the morbid events of last night. After what happened, he couldn’t have blamed her if she showed up bleary and bedraggled, shell-shocked and stumbling around like a zombie in a fatigue-induced stupor. Instead she carried herself with composure and confidence, the very picture of a seasoned, no-nonsense veteran, though to the sharp-eyed detective her appearance told a different tale. She might not be frazzled, but her unkempt hair was, and a number of tiny wooden shards and splinters clung to her garments. Dust and soot smudged not just her clothes, but also her forehead where she’d wiped sweat from her brow and her cheeks where her gauntlets had brushed them. Add in her comment over the linkpearl about still being in the Middle Tier, and it wasn’t much of a leap for Band to assume she’d spent the night at Banishing Flats, toiling to clean up the mess those Jack units made.

Though Yayama was a grown woman and probably didn’t want his sympathy, he offered her a sympathetic look anyway, one devoid of condescension. “Good mornin’,” he responded, pausing as she scaled the chair opposite him. He bit back a rueful smile that he thought she might mistake as amusement; she wasn’t the only one with size issues. Right now, Band wasn’t sitting on a chair so much as his own bell-shaped body, lowered to the floor behind the table with his legs retracted inside. Understandably, the chairs in Quick Rise hadn’t been made to accommodate heavy loads, and even if he somehow managed to fit four of them beneath him, they wouldn’t be strong enough to support his five thousand pound chassis.

He replied with a congenial smile when he heard her name. “Yayama, huh? The pleasure’s all mine, miss.” Although it had been a while now since he worked with Peacock, the gentle giant was well versed when it came to making friends a fraction of his size. “Me? I’m all there is of the most real. They call me Big Band.” Since Yayama hadn’t bought anything for herself, Band deployed a spindly mechanical arm to push his plate across the table. On it were simple cookies in a variety of shapes, each with a dollop of viscous strawberry jam in the middle. Of the seven Band had ordered, five were left. If the heroine didn’t want any, of course, she could just slide the plate right back.

A few minutes later, Kim and Harry arrived. In a coffee shop, positively buoyant with the soothing aromas of coffee beans, the lingering tarry waft of burnt tobacco on the latter’s breath made for a stark contrast. At least he’d managed to find some clothes after escaping from Banishing Flats in little more than his birthday suit, and practically anything was an improvement over the outfit he cobbled together in Martira. “Doin’ all right,” Band told Kim. “And yeah, hit me.” Kim succinctly explained what he’d gleaned about the tournaments, which confirmed some of Band’s suspicions but didn’t offer any new revelations. “Gotcha,” he replied. Between him, Harry, Kim, and Zenkichi, there were perhaps too many cooks in the kitchen. No case needed four detectives; at a certain point, the redundancy just muddied the waters. Of course, starting today they would be doing a lot less sleuthing and a lot more fighting. In the tournaments, they would definitely have strength in numbers.

Pit, Primrose, Therion, and Terry showed up next, and soon after they appeared, Band’s attention drifted to the wall-mounted TV set in Quick Rise. As it happened, a news station was covering the bombing of Banishing Flats last night. He hadn’t been able to identify those responsible himself, but evidently the perpetrators of the attack had been none too subtle, with the clearest indicator being the model of the robots they fielded. G Corporation, Band mused. The company whose boss Ms Fortune stole from yesterday afternoon. At this point, the connection was obvious. Fortune herself probably knew it better than anyone, hence her continued absence. Of course, she hadn’t meant to put her allies or innocents at risk, and her only crime had been not knowing who she was messing with. Still, unless this was some kind of false flag operation, the feral bore a portion of the responsibility. He shook his head at Terry. “No word on Fortune just yet.” Immediately after, Pit then went on to assure Terry that Primrose had Fortune’s arm, which confirmed her survival. Looking a little sheepish, Band cleared his throat. “...I stand corrected.”

As the news story concluded, Band looked around to get a sense of what ordinary Esaka citizens thought. Bombings were a big deal, especially with confirmed casualties, and yet nobody in sight appeared to be especially concerned. Ignorance had been plausible until now, but even after being informed directly, the customers of Quick Rise just didn’t seem to care all that much. They just talked about tournament results, their favorite fighters, patch notes, a recent brawl in the Mid Tier between giant dragons, and of course the upcoming brackets. Band just stared in muted astonishment at the nonchalance that surrounded him, his brows furrowed. Were the people of Esaka really that desensitized to death, convinced by the city’s quick respawns that it didn’t really matter? Or was everything else, including the lives and deaths of fellow citizens, just background noise compared to their hyperfixation on entertainment? It was a worrisome and frankly chilling realization. If his chat with Zenkichi last night hadn’t convinced him that Esaka was sick, this definitely would have.

The appearance of Sakura and Amaterasu helped bring Band back to reality. Not even Sakura’s sunny attitude could dispel the cloud hanging over the table, though. She suggested that the attack could have something to do with Moebius, which had occurred to Band as well, albeit as a remote possibility. “Not impossible,” he allowed. “After yesterday, there’s no tellin’ how many people saw us. By now the consuls gotta have spies all over, watchin’ out for us.” He looked around the table. “Hmm…none o’ y’all actually mentioned the words ‘Seekers of Light’ to anyone yesterday, didja…?” By now, with seven people and one canine, the table was starting to get a little crowded.

It would continue to grow crowded, however, as more familiar faces showed up. The presence of Captain Pit was a given, and he’d expected to see Roland, Primrose, and Therion. Band was somewhat surprised, though, to see Junior and Rika again, having figured that the two would be off on their own adventures for the foreseeable future. They had missed the deadline for tournament registration, after all, so there wasn’t much that they could do in Esaka. Still, better to have the kids where he could see them than off getting into trouble somewhere, since their dad would come knocking sooner or later. Though now that Band could actually see them, he couldn’t help but wonder if Rika looked smaller than he remembered. If he recalled correctly, she was somewhere in her mid to late teens, but now she looked like a pre-teen. Shaking his head, Band wrote it off as him misremembering. When one stood as tall as he did, everyone else was just a different degree of small.

More importantly, the koopa kids came bearing important news. They reported the existence of a sword that could destroy Flame Clocks, as well as the possible location of the Source Engine, the database theorized by the Lost Numbers where everyone’s true essence was kept and copied. It was a lot to take in so quickly, but luckily it wasn’t exactly relevant at the current moment, so Band could put a pin in those thoughts in favor of chuckling at the nature of Galeem’s machinations. “Guess it’s true what they say: there’s nothin’ new under the sun,” he remarked. “Gotta admit, I wasn’t expectin’ our all-powerful light god to be so…derivative.” He scoffed. “Goes to show, ya can’t have an original thought in your head if ya ain’t got a head to begin with.”

He let Roland fill the kids in about the tournaments and the events of the prior night, focusing instead on his coffee and cookies. When Roland mentioned those responsible for the attack, he helped dispel a little more of the mystery, even if that news report practically confirmed it already. “G-Corp, yeah,” Band stated. “The real question is: why. If it’s ‘cause of Ms Fortune, we might be in the clear. But if that was just a pretense to kill us all off, our troubles have only just begun.” When Therion mentioned the operative of another possible party at the scene of the crime last night, things got even more complicated.

Before he could try and summarize the Seekers’ situation, the team captain tried to rally everyone. Having been about to say something more gloomy and ominous, Band smiled, humbled by the angel’s positivity. “That’s the spirit. If our enemies are already resortin’ to dirty tricks, it’s ‘cause they know they can’t beat us in a straight fight. We got this.” Sure, many of them had slept poorly, and some of them not at all, but saving the world was never going to be easy.

The minutes slipped by awfully quickly, and in no time at all, only an hour remained before the new tournament series was scheduled to begin. By the time the Seekers paid and stepped outside, some people were already on the move toward the Pools either to participate in the upcoming fights, or just to watch. Compared to Top 24 and especially Top 8, the Pools wouldn’t see much viewership, but there were still plenty of Esakans who wanted to watch lesser-known fighters in person before the pot monsters all got weeded out. Speaking of monsters, the city’s resident yokai had shown up as well. They gathered around benches, eaves, and street corners where faint, wispy channels of spiritual energy flowed, chatting excitedly. Soon these ethereal streams would be live, granting remote visions of random Pools matches to anyone who stuck their head in.

Right now, though, the populace was mostly focused on the bulletin boards scattered around the city. As Band watched, golden light welled up from the cobblestones and washed across the nearest board, becoming letters and symbols that revealed the long-awaited tournament brackets. It took a few minutes for him to puzzle it out, but eventually the bracket for the World Warrior tournament revealed that his own first Pools match would be against someone named Rasputin. This name meant nothing to him, of course, but some Esakans were so familiar with the tournament scene that they could start devising strategies against their prospective opponents on the spot. The bigger concern for him was that he would need to win six fights over the course of the next few days in order to even reach Top 8, with even more battles awaiting him if he fell into the Losers’ Bracket, if he understood correctly.

The detective whistled. “Whew. Well…ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” Each matchup had a number beside it, representing an arena somewhere in the Pools where the fight would take place. He and the others had an hour to get ready and get up to Esaka’s second tier, though how they spent it was up to them.

---

Though it was easy enough to throw in a smile, Nadia remained uneasy after stepping out onto the street from Annie’s apartment. The rational part of her mind, minute though it was, assured her that Kazuya and his minions couldn’t possibly know where she was, or they would have finished her off already. It insisted that they couldn’t do anything in broad daylight, with so many fighters around and the city’s defense system (those towering aurumatons) already on high alert. Yet, as reasonable as these notions were, they couldn’t quell the turmoil that bubbled up inside her, like a cookpot threatening to overflow. She couldn’t help but be reminded of the little motes of prismatic light that dotted that smoking ruin, of the people who died or nearly died because of her, and each pang of guilt hurt like a knife to the heart.

Her distress didn’t overcome her, but it did slow her down as the walked along the Middle Tier’s streets, enough that she fell behind Annie several times. The first time, her new friend stopped to wait for her, her manner patient even if her face looked irritated. The second time, Annie reached back, took her by the hand, and pulled her along. The third time, in front of a grocery store called Bread and Butter, Annie threw up her hands as she rolled her eye. “Alright, I give. If you’re gonna stay all mopey, I’m just gonna head to the dojo. Filia and Beowulf both need last-minute training anyway…”

“No, sorry, I’m just…” Nadia squeezed her eyes shut, shook her head, then opened them again. “Just a little distracted. I’ll be fine, okay?” She gave a carefree grin. “Fur real!”

Annie glowered. “Yuck. Quit it.” When Nadia stared at her, questioningly, the girl in green elaborated. “I’m an actress, remember? I’ve been around the block a few times, and I know a fake smile when I see it. Who’re you trying to fool?” The feral balked, recoiling as if struck, and Annie took a deep breath before crossing her arms. “Sorry. But look. It’s okay to not be okay. Who’d be okay after getting blown up and nearly losing their friends? But you’re not gonna feel any better if you bury your feelings behind a fake smile. Trust me on this one.”

Slowly, Nadia’s smile faltered. Her ears drooped, her posture worsened, and her gaze dropped to the ground. She looked miserable. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out, and she closed it again. She’d managed to pick herself up and leave Annie’s apartment with the help of a couple trite axioms, but now those feeble attempts at comfort rang hollow in her ears. “Ms Fortune is supposed to be unstoppable,” she murmured with a helpless giggle. “Heeehee…s-someone who springs up from every fall with a witty joke and a smile on her face. But…here I am.” She slumped down against the wall by the grocery store’s window. “That’s biggest joke of all.”

“We all wear masks from time to time.” Nadia looked up at Annie, who was staring off into the distance with crossed arms. Her face betrayed nothing. “It’s how we get through life. But we need to remember that we aren’t our masks. That human beings are way, way more complicated than that. And that’s fine.”

The feral slowly let her head fall, and rested it in her hand. A couple minutes passed. When Nadia looked up again, she expected Annie to be gone, but the girl was still there. She glanced down at Nadia, her expression nonplussed. “What? Got something to say? I’m not a therapist, you know, so I don’t have to sit and listen to you feel sorry for yourself. If that’s what you want, go pay someone to do it at Infinite Worth.” She gestured at a psychiatric office across the street, and did not flinch when the catgirl fixed her with an angry expression. “We don’t have all day. You gonna come find some clothes with me, or not?”

Chuckling, Nadia wiped her eyes and got to her feet. “Wow. You sure have a way with words. Maybe I will come, just to spite you.”

“Suit yourself.” Annie turned and marched off, and Nadia followed her, shaking her head. She wasn’t going to get over these tumultuous feelings of hers any time soon, but life had to go on. For now, with just this acerbic stranger for company, maybe it’d be okay to not be okay for a while.

The two spent another twenty minutes traveling through the Middle Tier. Nadia found herself on the receiving end of an unusual number of odd looks. In recent weeks, she’d become more accustomed to stares of astonishment and admiration thanks to her new looks, but now Esakans side-eyed her (and her stump in particular) like she was a freak. It seemed like Esaka wasn’t a place people expected to see physical disabilities. Pretty much everyone here was an able-bodied fighter, many with superhuman physiques; it was rare enough to even see someone who happened to be overweight, among women in particular. In such an environment, her missing left arm was apparently a strange sight. People didn’t point and stare -in part because there were so few children, young children especially- but the keen-eyed feral noticed nonetheless. Her first instinct was to not let it bother her, and to instead greet such stares with a cheerful smile. Instead, she let herself scowl at them. She wasn’t happy about it, either! As it turned out, getting upset felt pretty good, actually.

Eventually, she and Annie reached Button Check, and the two went inside. When she stepped in, Nadia was wowed by the rows and rows of clothing items on display, briefly stunned by both the quantity and variety. There were more shirts, shorts, skirts, shoes, and jackets than she could imagine, let alone want. Since this apparel shop stocked clothing of both contemporary and retro styles, pretty much everything was new to a scion of the art deco era. What drew her eye most, though, was the section labelled ‘Greatest Hits’. It seemed to offer whole outfits designed to mimic the iconic attire of famous Esaka fighters, many in different color variations, with prices that matched their jaw-dropping looks. Nadia marveled, wide-eyed, at the gold jewelry and black leather of Dolores, two-time King of Fighters title holder, then considered the trendy baseball cap, tank top, and jacket of Isla. When she came upon a familiar-looking combo of black leather jacket and blue chaps, her eyes lit up with recognition. “Ángel,” she read, instinctively pronouncing the name correctly. “So that was her name.”

“Hmm?” Annie looked over.

Nadia tapped the image of a spunky luchadora attached to the outfit’s tag. “This chick. Way back in Carnival Town, I fus-” She blinked at Annie, who was still gleaming. “Uh, fought with her. Even picked up a couple of her moves! Better keep an eye on me in the tournament~”

Annie shrugged as she turned away. “Uh huh.”

Both quickly got distracted by an ad playing on one of the in-store TVs nearby. It was the debut video for a new fighter in the Tekken tournament by the name of Miary Zo from a country called Madagascar. Nadia had never heard of it, which was to be expected really, but it did have impressively huge trees. “Sure, I could tell ya I have the power of a fighting god,” she said, flipping around before landing in a cutesy monster pose. ”Or I could show ya with my fists!” She went on to summon effulgent blue snakes, a magical lemur tail, and a staff that she spun around like a dancer as she beat up a couple random people. “Wow, she’s pretty,” Nadia remarked.

“Pretty excessive,” Annie snorted, her arms crossed.

The catgirl gave her the side-eye. “Oh no, do you have a complex or something?”

“The ffff-UDGE are you talking about?” Seemingly unable to belt out an actual swear word, Annie turned away, annoyed. “Whatever. It’s gonna be a while before her outfit goes on sale anyway, so you’re gonna have to find something else?

Nadia looked farther down the King of Fighters row. “Hmm…oh! How about this?”

Annie eyed her suggestion idly. “Oh, that guy’s outfit? I never liked that creep…” She gave Nadia another look. “You could make it work. Maybe. You’d have to cut it up to work with your whole separation gimmick” She shrugged. “You could do worse.”

“From you, that’s high praise.” Nadia snickered, then went into the changing room to try it on. A minute later, she emerged dressed from head to toe in a black tie-up onesie and donkey brown overcoat, her face obscured in the shadow of her hood except for the electric blue glow of her eyes. Somehow, the costume had tailored itself her body, so there was no question of it fitting or not–just if she liked the look. “I can slice the sleeves off, and turn the pants into shorts,” she said, examining herself in a provided mirror. “It’s perfect. The perfect look for my heel turn! What do you think?”

A very dubious look greeted her. “It’s great you’re feeling better already, but I don’t think you should romanticize this rough patch you’re going through…” she began.

“Say no more!”

Without further ado Nadia purchased the outfit and walked out in it, her borrowed clothes from Annie returned in projectile form. The Girl of the Stars followed her out, pinching the bridge of her nose as she shook her head.



While Sandalphon, Adam, and everyone else inside the stagecoach clung to the inner wall meshes for dear life, not at all eager to be bounced around or battered by loose cargo, the rest of the Seekers contended with the breakneck chaos of the hypertube outside. Once obstacles began to appear in their path, what had once been relatively smooth sailing turned into a mad scramble to avoid head-on collisions. The debris that cluttered the high-tech tunnel could more or less be dodged, jumped, flown over, or smashed through depending on the Seeker involved, so long as he or she possessed the requisite reaction time. Surviving the hypertube got trickier, though, when stretches of it devolved into a battleground where Naytiba minions and residual Orca robotics skirmished for control of the area.

Fortunately, the way corpses tended to disintegrate in the World of Light meant that Skullings rarely managed to infest host bodies, but the verminous cephalopods could still do some damage if they managed to latch onto someone. The bigger challenge turned out to be the airborne Cymuls, not because they strove to attack the Seekers, but because their metallic chassis were essentially silver wrecking balls that floated right in the travelers’ path, to say nothing of the buzz saws they became when they spun up their bladed legs for combat.

These troublesome machines certainly gave Heismay a rude awakening. Thanks to the strong air current in the hypertube, the hermit had been able to glide close to its center without much effort on his part, but when Cymuls began to appear, his lack of actual flight experience came back to bite him. Hasty attempts to swerve to one side or the other and avoid the chrome deathtraps resulted in panicked overcorrection, and after veering much too close to one side of the hypertube he could scarcely avoid swooping too far back the other way. He dared not slow down though, since the stagecoach behind him was getting closer all the time, and the last thing he wanted was to get run over.

Eventually, Heismay’s crash course in aerodynamics culminated in a lesson learnt the hard way: when he veered left to dodge a Cymul, which only he spotted in the nick of time thanks to its unmistakable metallic glint, his wing clipped a rogue cargo crate. “Gah!” Blindsided by the hit, he spun out of control, no longer flying but falling. The next second he hit the floor and rolled, bouncing several times. Luckily his lightweight body and solid bones meant that his tumble didn’t break anything, but after a moment it became clear that he wasn’t going to slide to a stop any time soon. Instead, thanks to the longsaber sheathed on his back, he got swept away by the magnetic field. Heismay zoomed through the tunnel like a turtle on its back, his limbs flailing in the air as he yelled.

Just when his initial terror seemed close to wearing off, and his slide about to stabilize, a glancing blow from some a ticker sent him spinning. “Bah!” Heismay gritted his teeth as the ticker blew up somewhere behind him, bending his arms down to try and seize some semblance of control with his claws fingers against the metal of the hypertube. In doing so, though, he saw more obstacles up ahead. At this rate it would be a full-on crash, with no chance of escaping the magnetic field in time. He could think of only one thing to try, and had no more time to think of something. “Here goes nothing!” In a flash of orange Heismay became his Assassin archetype, and not a second too soon. The Archetype’s large, sturdy metal form smashed through the debris with ease, prompting a profound sigh of relief from Heismay. As he evened out, he pressed his legs together and folded his arms across his chest, as if he were hanging upside down from a rafter, in order to ride the hypertube like a water slide. In that way he managed to shoot through the tunnel until the end of the hypertube appeared in the distance.

As the Seekers neared the end, barriers directed traffic away from the ceiling and walls and toward the floor, where several sets of slow panels with red backward-pointing arrows could reduce their velocity as the hypertube’s air current petered out. Anyone still in the air and above those panels would have to slow down via other methods, but at least the area beyond the exit seemed quite big. No longer cushioned by the magnetic field, Heismay exited the hypertube and quickly ground to a stop, sparks flying from where his Archetype’s armor met the ground. He reverted to normal the next moment, but lay there on his back for a little while longer, dazedly staring up at the dark, cloudy sky of the Frozen Highlands. The team’s wild ride was over, but it would be another minute or two before his heart finally slowed down. “...Well,” he croaked. “Twas much more than I bargained for.” He sat up at last, propping himself up with his hands. “Is everyone still in one piece?”

Eve walked his way, her concern evident on her face. The swordswoman had arrived first, and judging by her pristine condition she’d suffered no crashes or tumbles along the way. “I’m all good,” she reported, helping him up. “Though, I’m less certain about Adam and the others…”

After a quick look around, it seemed like everyone had made it through the hypertube intact, though precious few Seekers had made it unscathed. Some had made a solid effort to keep the stagecoach safe, but perfection was an elusive thing. One of the coach’s front wheels had disappeared at some point, and its armor took a few hits, leaving the once spotless black steel even more banged up than before. With the distribution of remaining wheels it could probably still travel, although with insufficient Reindrix to pull it along it wouldn’t be going anywhere fast now that it was back on solid ground.

As Heismay scrutinized the immediate area for enemies, and found no immediate threats, the stagecoach’s door creaked open. Sandalphon hobbled out with the aid of her gunstaff, sporting a couple fresh bruises. A quick look inside would confirm that some of the expedition gear and materials hanging from the wagon’s ceiling mesh had been shaken loose during the hypertube ride. Those loose objects now lay scattered around the stagecoach’s floor in complete disarray, along with Adam, who nursed a painful-looking bump on his head. A quick incantation of Angelic Praise from Sandalphon would remedy the pair’s injuries, along with any suffered by the Seekers outside during their tube ride, after which Sandalphon used External Information Network to the area. “No Naytibas nearby,” she announced.

“A welcome surprise,” Heismay muttered as he headed over. “Everything alright?”

The archangel’s pupils turned from radar scanners back to stress marks as she attempted to straighten her hair. “Can’t complain,” she lied. When Eve approached to check on Adam, she stepped aside to let her climb inside the stagecoach, then looked around.

According to the map she’d memorized earlier, the Seekers were now in the Space Logistics Complex, and what she now saw certainly fit the bill. It was a sprawling facility somewhere between a shipyard and an air cargo terminal, with giant cargo containers stacked high enough to form walls four or five stories high, complimented by dozens of heavy-duty cranes, lifts, and loaders. Beyond this freight depot lay the processing center, where everything bound for the space elevator would be loaded into a massive, labyrinthine auto-sorting system of conveyor belts, chutes, lifts, robot arms, and security laser grids. There was a public access checkpoint on one side, where the people who arrived here by hypertube could enter the main facility while their luggage entered the cargo system, but in addition to a shut gate there appeared to be a five lane gridlock blocking the gate, which would need to be cleared if the stagecoach were to go through. Over it all towered Raphael Space Center, tantalizingly close. Only by craning her neck now could Sandalphon peer up to where the space elevator disappeared into the clouds.



“Right.” The archangel looked around. “Firstly, I imagine that everyone could use a short break after such an unorthodox method of travel. There are, however, several matters that require our attention. In order to continue progressing, we’ll need to open the way forward. A physically capable volunteer should rearrange the vehicles over there to make way for the stagecoach. I can investigate the checkpoint to see if it can be opened on this side, but if I am unsuccessful it may be necessary for a team to navigate the cargo system to reach the other side. Needless to say, I recommend avoiding the security lasers.” She then turned her attention to the Seekers’ ride. “We cannot neglect the stagecoach any longer, though. The wheels and armor require replacement and maintenance, respectively. And…the interior is a mess, as well. Edward.” Sandalphon addressed the team’s tactician directly. “Our coal and electricity reserves should be sufficient to utilize the technology gleaned from Whitey Hooten. It is up to you to design and manufacture new draft animals using the samples we’ve collected. Feel free to request additional help as you see fit. Whatever you do, stay alert. The Naytiba that attacked us is still alive, and it will attack again.”

As the Seekers began to disperse to attend to their various tasks, Adam remained by the stagecoach, perturbed. While Sandalphon’s miracle had restored him, the same couldn’t be said for the equipment he used to remotely control his drone, which the hypertube had jostled in transit. “It’ll be a little longer before my rig’s operational again.”

“I could accompany some of our new friends on another foray,” Eve ventured, her arms crossed thoughtfully. “But perhaps I should remain here this time, in case that Naytiba returns.”

Adam shrugged. “Suit yourself. Maybe there’s a can or two around here for you to collect.”

Eve’s eyebrows rose. “Ooh, maybe.” She took another look around. “Though, according to that message we received, Lily should be holed up somewhere near here.” The thought made Eve frown. “Hmm…with dangerous Naytibas around, we can’t very well leave her to fend for herself.”

“That’s true,” Adam admitted. “I’ll try and ping her. If I get a response, you’ll be the first to know.”

Eve nodded. “Thanks.”

Although a break sounded pretty good to Heismay, he couldn’t allow himself to rest when he spotted Sandalphon already on her way to the security checkpoint, all on her lonesome. He accompanied her the rest of the way as an escort, hopping between the roofs of the abandoned cars. Despite his new parka, he still found himself shivering when the chill wind picked up and flurries of snow blew around the Logistics Center. “It’s damnably cold,” he complained. “More so than this morning, I’d wager.”

“That would fit the narrative surrounding the Highlands’ eternal night, but for everyone’s sake I hope it is mere coincidence,” Sandalphon replied. Once she reached the security booth, she slipped inside to access the terminal.

Heismay, meanwhile, climbed up the structure until he reached the top of the gate. If the gate couldn’t be opened from this side, after all, what was stopping him, or one of the team’s fliers, from simply going over to access the far side? Once he crested the top of the wall, he got a clear view of the land ahead. The area between the Space Logistics Complex and the Raphael Space Center was almost destroyed, with strange armored vehicles and blazing flames littered about, as well as some large holes in the roadway through which churning water was visible. Before he could see any gate controls on this side, he saw several red laser pointers that locked onto him from different angles as a half-dozen contaminated guard turrets took aim. “Oh.” Heismay jumped down just in time to avoid the first magnetically-accelerated slug as it zoomed over the wall and slammed into the landscape behind where he’d been, violently exploding with enough raw force to blast an armored car to smithereens. The noise and shockwave startled a handful of cone-wearing crustaceans that had been hiding out near the traffic jam, as well as a stocky red-and-white bird rummaging through smaller packages piled by the cargo center.

As Sandalphon stared through the security booth window, eyes wide, Heismay dropped down in front of her. “We may have a problem,” he posited. When Sandalphon said nothing, frozen, he coughed into a balled fist. “Er…any luck with the gate?”

Sandalphon’s pupils turned from empty rings back to their normal power symbols. “No. Just a training program for document inspectors.” She gestured toward the computer screen, which displayed a security simulation. “It does mention some sort of reward for trainees who perform well enough, but my time is better spent elsewhere.” With her task here concluded, Sandalphon exited the booth to return to the stagecoach and help reorganize its interior. Heismay followed, his gaze upward as he kept an eye out for any other guard turrets.

With one final jolt, the stagecoach hit the first slowdown arrow, and then began decelerating more smoothly as Edward guided them to a few others. This deceleration came to a somewhat unpleasant conclusion with the awful sound of the un-magnetized iron boots of the golems at its front scraping across the ground.

Still, come to a stop they did, and in (mostly) once piece, though Edward did have to ask ”I don’t suppose anyone saw where our missing front wheel went?” when he stepped down from the driver’s seat to inspect it.

The insides meanwhile were a mess, which meant it took a bit of time to dig up where all the resources he needed to set up their creature creator equipment, be it blueprints or bags of coal.

Once it had all been retrieved however, he set his golems to work doing the hammering necessary to set it all up. Quite the miraculous technology, that even their crude motions could get the job done.

Rather than simply watching them work, Edward made himself busy, he retrieving a pal-sphere and releasing from it the Reindrix he’d claimed for personal use. He then approached it and applied the four fallen rendrix spirits to the still living specimen.



The man cupped his chin as he examined the creature, commenting ”Fascinating. From wild beast to thoroughbred” as he did so, before stepping closer to give it a closer inspection. He stepped away a few moments later, shivering and shaking a shower of frost buildup from his wings.

”Well then, you are most certainly not suitable as a replacement puller or steed, even if I were to free you. But as a warbeast you might do well ” he said to the pal, before returning it to its sphere. He’d need to test that later.

For now, however, the Creature Chamber had been completed, and it was time to get to work. A little easier said than done given no one had any training with the machinery, but fortunately it was pretty intuitive and required little technical know-how to operate. A bit like the blueprints really.

Using this Edward cobbled together what he intended to be a low resource intensive practice/prototype creature to test out the process, using the machinery to combine parts from the diminutive snowrunt and puyomon. The result was a little unexpected however, mainly because the snoruyo that appeared from a flash of light when the machine activated stood considerably taller than the pair of feet that its components had. Scaled up, the somewhat wide stance of the snorunt left the resulting creature rather bulky, while the staring of the singular giant eye from the puyomon gave it a somewhat unnerving air.

Still, it made absolutely no hostile moves nor showed any real initiative to do anything on its own, and obediently stomped over to an unused spot when Edward directed it to do so. THat latter was a relief as more than one tale of creators being destroyed by their creation due to their arrogance had raised its head in his mind upon seeing the impossible creature.

now that he was fairly sure it would be no threat Edward admitted slowly that ”That… Opens up some possibilities” as he examined his creation from afar.

He’d assumed that the creatures would have mostly been influenced by the creatures own sizes, Whitey Hooten having used bulky sea beasts in his own ‘tier five’ creations, but it seemed he had been wrong.

The Seeker’s collection of diminutive creatures now looked to contain a lot more viable candidates for creature creation in his eyes.

To confirm this, he had a squad of golems raise their shields and act as a punching bag for the new creation. He wasn’t too impressed with the ice shards it formed in its hands and hurled at the golems, though they did both come out and fly very fast. The crackling gas it could expel wasn’t particularly impressive either, though it certainly dissuaded approach. The ability to create teams of illusory copies and raise a defensive barrier to block attacks however, those were quite interesting indeed

”A group of these could make for a rather decent skirmishing squad, assuming they can also combine and be unaffected by the intensity of their lightning gas. Hard to approach, hard to hit. Shame about the speed though” he noted, as he proceeded to document the creation in one of his journals. If informed about the turrets, he might suggest they use the Snoruyo’s to draw their fire, or rather, to have its double team doppelgangers do so.

This testing phase left plenty of space for people to commandeer the creature chamber and do their own creature creation.

Amatarasu got a good look at the dramatic event she’d missed last night on the tv screens as they walked in, and mentally cursed herself for not being present to help. While the seekers were, it seemed, all in one piece (minus Miss Fortune but apparently that was normal for her), the same could apparently not be said for some of the event’s bystanders, and that information left a knot in her gut and shame on her brow.

She should have been there. She should have been able to do something. To help the helpless. That the citizens were unaffected only hammered the discomfort home, and added to the feeling that if she had to be doing good, because few others would be doing so in this world.

The news from Jr and Rika of all people added a reminder however that there were, of course, higher stakes at play here. A reality full of injustice, which could not be ended if the root was not ripped out and burned. If the parasite that had built it was snuffed out.

The, as it turned out, rather un-creative parasite.

The divine wolf had to agree that it was odd that Galeem had plagiarized how it ran its new world, but Jr did have a point when he said that ”I mean it already stole everything else n glued it together, right? Seems like exactly the same kinda deal here. Probably stole the whole guardian thing from somewhere else too, because I bet it straight up can’t make anything new”

The reasoning that had led him to come to this conclusion did not impress her however, given it turned out to be ”Ya know, because its lame and dum”

THe divine wolf’s guess meanwhile was that it was some limitation in its nature. That, or, well, depending on how many worlds it had eaten, maybe everything had been done before already, so it might as well just replicate one of the reality ruling regimes instead of trying to come up with its own unique premise, and to then glue on yet more layers of wards to the seal that kept it in power.

”It’s kinda nice to know that this didn’t work last time though. Like before, it was all ‘everyone who tried to beat Galeem failed’ but now that we know the way it runs the place has been torn down before makes it feel like we can do it too” Rika noted, finding a little nugget of hope in the information, before adding a bit more sadly ”Just, like, in a way that doesn’t force us apart when it's all over”

”We’ll find a way” Jr insisted, before saying ”and we’ll find that sword guy too” and then speculating ”Maybe Vulgrim knows about him? Or what the sword was made out of?” though he didn’t seem too confident in the sales demon’s information, even if the not finding exactly what they wanted was mostly due to getting sidetracked repeatedly.

”Maybe. We’ll need to feed him a lot though” Rika pointed out, but Jr already had an answer lined up from that, namely ”Which we can get from hollows”

He then explained ”Shinjuku’s got these big energy balls that’ve eaten up a bunch of the city. If you go in them with a guide who can get you around, which we’ve got lined up, there’s weird monsters we could hunt, and also this Ether energy stuff that’s super valuable apparently” before suggesting ”So while you're doing your tournament stuff, everyone who’s not doing that could go raid a hollow for resources”

Rika wasn’t quite so sure, mainly because of the news about the new threat to the seekers. So she asked ”What about those, G-corp guys though? Maybe we should just kill em all and loot their stuff instead? Gets us what we need, and gets them off everyone else’s back while they’re doing tournament stuff”

That latter option certainly sounded better to Amaterasu, even, if again, she disagreed with the children’s reasoning. She’d rather not worry about saboteurs in between, or worse during, matches. Admittedly she was a bit weary of letting the children go off and fight said battle, but given that G-corp hadn’t dared commit to a fair fight, they could probably handle them in one.

Ultimately, what the non-tournament fighters decided to do was up to them. Or up to anyone who took issue with them, given they were going to start drawing attention to themselves one way or another now that the tournament brackets were up.

If they’d managed to hide in the tall grass so far, then they were out in the open for all to see now, assuming the Consuls had anyone watching (which surely they must). If the names of slayers of other Guardians didn’t catch their attention, nor the un-galeeming eyes of the soon to be fighters, then Amaterasu’s little contribution almost certainly would.

She’d had the good graces to look a little sheepish when the question of if anyone had mentioned the words ‘Seekers of Light’ had been asked earlier, because while she hadn't quite done that, the team name she’d come up with for their entrance into the trio’s tournament was a single letter off of it. Only a little though. Seekers of Fight was a good bit of wordplay in her opinion though, and now it was out in the open for everyone to see.

Time would tell how much trouble they were going to bring down on their heads before the tournament was done.

With the motel crashing down around them, literally going up in flames, Zenkichi found himself giving the others a quick hand in finding survivors. The casualties weren’t too drastic, but more than one was a heavy weight on the Seekers’ shoulders. When the rubble had been mostly cleared, Zenkichi knelt, bowed in a dogeza, and whispering a soft prayer for the deceased. Standing, he nodded to the others who had stayed behind, before walking off towards one of the many ways down to the Low Tier.

He gently knocked on the door to Kyanta’s dojo, waiting patiently for somebody to respond. It was the pomeranian themselves who answered, eyes bleary and clearly unhappy about being woken so early. “Huhhh? Zenkichi, do you realize how early it is?”

He frowned in response, sighing as he nodded his head. ”I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be. Trust me, I’d much rather be asleep. I was attacked, along with some of the others I came to Esaka with.” Kyanta gasped, eyes widening with shock as they opened the door and ushered the Phantom Thief inside. ”It was G-Corp, I think. We saw their helicopters flying away from the hotel they blew up. Just…don’t tell anybody. We’re not completely sure why they came for us, so we don’t want to get too many people involved. Which I know I’m sort of doing by coming here, but I figured if we split up, they’d have to burn too many resources to attack all of us separately, rather than taking us out in one fell swoop.” Kyanta nodded, the logic making sense, even if they were a little uneasy still.

”I’ll only stay till morning. Once I compete under the dojo’s name, it’ll be too obvious for me to stay here, anyway. I won’t put you in any more danger than I already have.” Kyanta made to argue, but he shook his head. ”Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of experience under my belt in dealing with conspiracies. I’ll be okay.”

“If you say so.” Kyanta groaned, shaking their head and gesturing for Zenkichi to follow them. “We’ve got a few rooms in the back. It’s not a 5-star bed and breakfast, but it beats the street. I’ll get one prepped for you, just wait a few.”

It was, indeed, only a few minutes before Zenkichi had a warm room with an admittedly uncomfortable futon to sleep on. Sleep came slowly, but it did come.

Eventually, morning came. It was fairly early when his eyes opened, a life of early awakenings and long rides keeping Zenkichi from truly deep sleep, especially after something so horrible as the night before. He forced himself up, dressed, and made his way back to the common area of the dojo to search for the kitchen. Even Kyanta hadn’t risen yet, so he was on his own, but after a few minutes he found the space and the coffee machine. Making himself a quick mug, he drank it hot and black, relying on the flavor and strength to force some life into him. Grabbing a pen and a sticky note, he left a ‘Thank you!’ note for Kyanta and made his way onto the streets.

The city’s defenders were on high alert, their presence felt keenly by everybody on the street. Zenkichi wandered, listening to the word he heard around, but he was oddly disappointed to hear almost no mention of the attack. Almost everybody was too preoccupied with the incoming fight, and the explosions from the night before were all but ignored by the populace.

When Band called to meet, Zenkichi answered, albeit silently. He was among the last to enter Quick Rise, catching the tail end of the Koopa Kids’ explanation about the flame clocks. He didn’t bother to get anything to eat; a true detective needed only coffee to survive until lunch, at least in his mind. Galeem’s lack of originality was a combination of comical and pathetic. That a godlike being couldn’t come up with its own system for keeping its recycled world intact and self-sustaining was…really something.

He shared Pit’s positive outlook, but lacked the outward expression thereof. It wasn’t necessary; the Seekers all knew what they had to do. Get a shot at the Four Kings, and take them down. It was easier said than done, of course, but they were tough.

When the time came to make their way to the Pools, Zenkichi followed Band’s example and looked over the tournament bracket to see his own challenger: Iron Monk. That could be anything from a fist-fighter of unbreakable will to a master of the quarterstaff. It changed nothing; he would be ready for whatever his opponent brought out either way.

“Oh, hey there, you two!” Terry welcomed Sakura and Amaterasu from afar, giving them a big wave and trying as best as he could to maintain a bright demeanor. “Yeah, no cap, the explosion was as awful as it sounds. I do think it was a tad bit fishy. Everything from the Jacks being sent there and the chopper that came after indicated that one of those G-Corp higher ups could be the one orchestrating this mess. But I dunno, the more I think about it, I guess they could be the cover up for something far bigger than Kaz and his stooges. Did y’all know that they sold those Jack bots to other shady ass companies in Esaka? Even literal terrorists like Black Dragon own ’em, and it’s been, like, an open secret around here.”

Even he couldn’t believe that he just openly shared that piece of information in front of his (mostly) non-Esakan friends, but it went to show that underneath the ‘gatekeeping’ stuff and the fair, peaceful conduct, Esaka was about as corrupted as any place within Galeem’s twisted world. So corrupted that they allowed terrorists and serial killers like Freeman ran wild around the city unpunished. Hopefully, he couldn’t be the only resident who thought that the system was extremely flawed, could he?

Just moments after, both Koopalings made their surprising entrance to the coffee house, with Junior proudly claiming that he’d discovered ‘how to shatter Flame Clocks.’ Since he was relatively new to the team, it was evident that Terry was clueless about anything that they’d claimed to find and learn throughout their adventures. Instead of chiming in, Terry greeted them with the same gesture and feigned expression he gave both Sakura and Amaterasu, looking just as exhilarated as the Koopalings despite himself.

“Oh, hey there, err… Raphael and Venus?” he jokingly called both Junior and Rika, trying to guess their names. He hadn’t learned of their actual names just yet, as they’d completely parted ways with the squad the moment Terry introduced (or reintroduced) himself to the squad yesterday morning. “Well, those are some fine findings, you guys. _{And that makes me think that this Galeem freak’s just as clueless as the people around us are.} But anyway, yeah, like I said, the explosion was as awful as it sounds, so we’re totally not okay over here. A lotta peeps are dying, and we can’t do anything about it.”

And Terry’s expression went wry almost immediately, despite his efforts to remain cheerful and friendly like he usually was. As much as he wanted to admit, the sight of the prior sprawling corpses with their wide, glassy eyes was still weighing on him, even when he didn’t know each and every one of the demised guests personally. To make matters worse, Nadia was still palpably absent, nowhere to be seen nor found. It gave him a sense of unease knowing that one of them might’ve still been caught under the ruins. Or so, he believed?

Then, Pit revealed to Terry the truth about Nadia. The winged captain claimed that he’d found her arm somewhere nearby the demolished Flats, its condition ‘healthy… for a severed arm.’ It was later revealed that Primrose had been stowing said arm under her bag, but just the thought of a decapitated body part being kept inside a bag nearly made the notoriously compassionate bruiser throw up. And that was before he even had his breakfast, too! Nevertheless, he could at least sigh in relief, knowing that Nadia would’ve possibly survived the collapsing motel.

“Ouch, dude! That sounds like something straight outta the Mortal Kombat tourney!” he remarked, wincing and scrunching his nose in disgust. “But, damn, ’least Ms. Fortune’s okay. I’m happy about that. I just hope that—whenever we meet her again—she doesn’t have to feel so bad about, y’know, the thing that just happened back at the Flats. I don’t think it’s really her fault. ’Least not a hundred percent.”

By the time he reciprocated Pit, the prior Mii waitress approached their table, serving both the pretzel and the comically large cup of hot java the bruiser had been ordering. Once they were settled on his side of the table, Terry gave her a thumbs up, reciprocating her politely spoken “here’s your breakfast” with a friendly “okay, thank you!”

As he nibbled and gobbled his pretzel with gusto, Terry continued to pay attention to everything that his fellow Seekers had been speaking of, ranging from the possible suspect of last night’s incident to the Koopalings’ curious discoveries. While he had barely any clue as to what the twins had been elaborating, he did, however, seemingly take interest in the ‘Source Engine’ that was hinted to be the machine responsible for mass-producing variants of themselves, all while fixating on the wall-mounted TV ahead of their table. Apparently, the commercial break still went on, now showing an advertisement for the latest KOF tournament that was coming in an hour. As per tradition, Terry was left out of the promotional montage showcasing nearly every premier fighter from the last tournament performing eye-catching combo sequences before an offer was made by the end of the advertisement that said:

75% Discount. Grab your tickets… now??

Even Terry had to inwardly reiterate the offer being displayed on the screen to make sure that he was reading every word right. This had to be a joke, didn’t it? The tournament was already around the corner, yet they were still selling tickets an hour in advance? It was sad that the advertisement had to be made, but it went to show the current, unhealthy state of the KOF tournament that Terry needed to make peace with, as harsh as it sounded.

Following the advertisement promoting Armor King’s blazing return to the latest Tekken tournament, the prior news broadcast was shown finally disrupting the lengthy commercial break, the reporter welcoming the viewers with a formal “and now we’re back for another news update in regards to the recent explosion incident,” which immediately elicited an uneasy expression from Terry. His free hand balled, and his inner burden escalated, the moment the group’s conversation deepened and the television’s loud echo reached every corner of the building. It was reported that the investigation team led by Heidern and Sonya was still examining the remains of the Jack droids found under the ruins, confirming that both the Gun Jack and Jack-8 models were deployed alongside the preceding Jack-5 droids. The estimated numbers of the casualties were also announced, their names listed. Some were tourists visiting Esaka, but most were local grapplers working for several wrestling promotions within the city and beyond. “Including Andore Jr., Keiko Asano, Morio Smith, Jacob Cass, and the former WWCA champion Pulk Hogen.”

Upon hearing the names of the casualties—both dead and injured—being reported, Terry weakly gobbled his pretzel and swallowed hard, suddenly losing his appetite. He was crushed, devastated. It was almost as if the incident had claimed the lives of hundreds of guests, even though there were barely a dozen of them. The patrons around him didn’t seem too bothered (save for his fellow Seekers), but he did. Even if he was still gleaming at this point, he would’ve still cared. He’d seen his beloved hometown nearly getting demolished and wiped out of the map once in his first life because he didn’t care enough, and regardless of the casualties, he’d hate to see history repeat itself in his second life. The difference now was that he, at least, cared about what truly went on behind the curtains, but even in spite of his efforts, he still failed to save everyone. The brawny blonde sighed and settled his half-eaten pretzel back on his plate, his head dropping and his weary eyes flicking close.

No… No, Terry! Nobody should’ve died. I could’ve saved everyone, but I didn’t try enough. I was too slow. Too… reckless! I put everybody in danger because of what I said. Shouldn’t have said what I said last night if this was gonna happen. It was all my fault. My fault!

Absently, Terry tightened his balled hands on the table, scrunching his face and nearly slamming his fists against its solid surface. After what happened to his loved ones, he should’ve known better to run his mouth than to grumble senselessly yesterday. Mustering the courage to own up to his mistakes, the erstwhile KOF champion swallowed again, then answered to Band’s question, flicking his eyelids open to look his fellow Seekers in the eyes.

“This is all my fault,” he admitted, his voice shaky. “Ms. Fortune did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have bitched about Rugal, Esaka, and the KOF tourney back at the lobby if it ended up attracting unwanted attention from the Four Kings. It did cost my family back then, and it damn near cost everyone of us, too. I’ve done more harm than good to the team. And… and…” He stifled his mouth hesitantly, his lips clenching tight. He didn’t know how he was supposed to address the next revelation in front of his team without sounding like the biggest snitch. His tongue clicked, his lips finally parting to speak. “And I shouldn’t have told Geese what I saw back at the Teahouse. We were involved in a heated argument last evening, and I… stupidly blamed him for running South Town to the ground after learning what I learned when Ammy set me free. Sure, it was accidental, and I didn’t mention something like ‘Galeem’ nor ‘Seekers of Light’ that might’ve potentially put him on alert, but still… he seemed to notice. And I just remembered now that his company owned some of those newest Jack models sold by G-Corp.” Terry weakly exhaled, then covered his embarrassed face with both gloved hands, his fingers running through the wild strands dangling over his forehead. He shook his head in defeat before drawing his hands away, glancing back at the other Seekers. “God, I’m such an idiot! Look, I don’t ask you guys for forgiveness, okay? I dunno if I can be trusted anymore after what happened. If you’re gonna disown me after we take down the Four Kings, then… so be it. I won’t object if that’s the consequence I have to face. But wait…”

His eyes narrowed observantly as if coming to a realization. All of a sudden, Terry was reminded by the conversation he had with Earthrealm’s lightning deity and two other Seekers at the Kyokugen BBQ. He remembered how the deity referred to them as the ‘Seekers of Light’—something that he was surprised to hear initially, but didn’t pay any mind until this morning. The brawny blonde darted his keen eyes towards Kim (who was present with him and Yayama at the restaurant), unfurling his balled hands.

“Kim, I got a question,” Terry initiated before calmly asking: “You investigated Lord Thunder God last night, didn’t you? I’m sure you didn’t say something off, but… how did he know that we’re ‘Seekers of Light’?”

Raiden couldn’t be involved with the incident, could he? While he wasn’t thoroughly familiar with what went on within the Mortal Kombat Dojo, Terry knew Raiden enough to conclude that he was one of the few good guys left among the sea of apathetic, able-centric Esakan crowd. After all, we’re talking about the same compassionate deity whose life goal—as he told three of the Seekers—was to assist the ‘mortals’ to the best of his ability. Perhaps, it could be argued that he knew about the Seekers through the Elder Gods or whatever magical components comprising the world of Mortal Kombat. The chances of anybody within their inner circle spilling the name to him were slim, especially not from somebody as vigilant as Kim.

Don’t be silly, Terry. It’s still your fault, either way. Not Ms. Fortune’s, not Lord Thunder God’s, not anyone else’s. You’ve owned up to it, so live with it!

Before he could receive an answer from Kim, the prior Mii waitress had returned to hand him his own bill. Terry picked and inspected the bill, his burdened eyes immediately falling upon the estimated number printed at the bottom. It was barely a hundred zennies, not exactly expensive until he checked his wallet. He unfolded, then obliviously spread the wallet wide enough for anybody within his proximity to witness, only to be embarrassed when he discovered that there was only a single 10-coin left beneath his wallet.

Aww, man…

With his visage dimming further, the erstwhile KOF champion drew the only coin left in his possession out of the wallet, giving it to the Mii waitress. The Mii waitress gasped mockingly upon receiving the coin, her features puzzled.

“I’m sorry, sir, but this is only 10 zennies,” she politely protested, gesturing at the coin clipped between her fingers.

“Yeah, my bad, I’m so sorry, but that’s the only money I got left,” Terry elaborated with a wry, hesitant grin, a drop of sweat comically streaming down his forehead. Considering the many bills he’d racked up wherever he ate, he hated having to keep the reputation alive, even though he was left with no choice. “But can I pay part of the bill now and then the rest after the tourney? I seriously hate to do this, but I’m short on money right now.”

The waitress huffed, facepalming. “Old habits die hard,” she quietly grumbled, having heard of Terry’s reputation beforehand. She moved her hand away, revealing the irritated look on her face. “Fine then. Only this time. And if you don’t pay the rest like you’ve promised…” With her spherical hand, she gestured at a towering Caribbean man sporting a pair of blue shades and golden dreadlocks, grinning maniacally upon stepping into the scene. Alongside him, came an even heavier man sporting a uniquely styled flat top and a dark facepaint that made him seem like he belonged to a certain glam rock band. Together, they silently revealed themselves as the coffee house’s bouncers, belittling Terry with cackles. “...They’ll have to make you pay for it.”

“Oh…” Terry widened his eyes at the sight and gulped, nervously cackling along the scoffing titans. He saw Thrasher drawing out a knife from beneath his pocket and toying with it almost casually, his gesture playful yet threatening, giving Terry a slight sense of unease. It might come as a surprise that the seemingly friendly coffee house around the neighborhood recruited at least two former Mad Gear members notorious for their past crimes, but knowing Low Tier and, heck, even Esaka as a whole, anything could happen. With hesitation no longer weighing on him, he nodded and told the unnamed waitress “okay, why not?” before offering her a hand. “You have my word.”

The waitress—with a satisfied smile on her face—accepted, shaking his hand. “Deal!” she said. “And don’t you dare violate our deal, mister.”

“Sure, miss!”

After the deal was sealed, Terry quickly finished his coffee, stood out of his seat, then picked his duffle bag, joining the other Seekers towards the Pools.




Rightfully so, the Pools wasn’t exactly that crowded by the time Terry arrived at the place. When he observed his surroundings, he only spotted a bunch of early birds and a group of yokai eagerly waiting for the next—and perhaps, the biggest—betting game ahead. It was funny now that he thought about it since he’d normally come way later than anybody else, but here he was, gathering by one of the bulletin boards alongside other early birds like Band and Zenkichi.

Once an auric light magically brought the board to life, Terry began tracing the board with his finger, his vigilant eyes carefully following the traces that his finger made until the bracket for his own tournament was located. Having been familiar with all the symbols and numbers written all over the board, it didn’t take long for Terry to find what he was searching for, the tip of his finger halting right atop of the word “The King of Fighters.” He dragged his finger further down, his scanning eyes stumbling upon popular names like ‘Team Japan,’ ‘Team Yagami,’ ‘Team Psycho Soldier,’ and ‘Team Ikari’ until his fingertip landed upon the name listed at the bottom of the board. Yes, it was his own team, ‘Team Seekers of Fight,’ being positioned beneath the rest, as if the sponsor was so hesitant about including him, Cap, and Amaterasu to the roster. The erstwhile champion craned his head and inspected the board closely, not expecting to find that their first opponent was…

Team MUGEN??

His eyebrows arched. He hadn’t heard that name in a while. When he initially arrived at Esaka, the MUGEN Dojo was the first dojo he attended before he was promoted to the Fatal Fury Dojo and, eventually, the moderately prestigious KOF Dojo. Known for their unorthodox training regime that’d put the now-defunct Kyokugen Dojo to shame, the MUGEN Dojo was once a massive hit among up-and-coming fighters desired to make it big in the competitive fighting space, giving birth to a lot of Esaka’s greats like himself and his former team. The dojo was so successful in creating durable yet adaptable fighters they were promoted to the Middle Tier in less than a year since they were established. Unfortunately, their popularity was cut short after numerous complaints were filed. Due to the same training method that pushed their applicants to their very limits, various sponsors would’ve pointed out how MUGEN alumni like Crazy Catastrophe and Rare Akuma were unfairly ‘cheaper’ and more unstable than most competitors, resulting in their temporary ban from Esaka’s main tournament outlets. The ban didn’t only hurt the dojo’s image, but also (and unfortunately), forced them to be demoted back to the Low Tier due to the low number of applicants. They’d barely recovered ever since.

Well, that’s surely unexpected. Been a hot minute since they sent anybody to a tournament at all. Let’s see, uh, what do we have here? Kung Fu Man, Kung Fu Girl, and… Rare Akuma!? Holy cow, we’re cooked!

Far beyond cooked, perhaps, and this was only the first round! Terry knew both Kung Fu Man and Kung Fu Girl. They were occasional sparring partners back at the MUGEN Dojo, and safe to say, while Kung Fu Man was one of the most vanilla looking fighters around Esaka, his ‘Kung Fu Palm’ technique and mastery in the art of ancient Chinese martial arts weren’t to mess with. There was a reason why he was the dojo’s champion, after all, and one of the few faces that Tu Shou sent to major tournament outlets like KOF. Kung Fu Girl, on the other hand, was perhaps a slightly improved counterpart of Kung Fu Man. While she might not be as seasoned as her older brother was, her speed, strength, and ability to stretch her limbs and shoot energy blasts that could rival Takuma’s Haoh Shoukou Ken made her an equally formidable—if not, surprisingly ‘broken’—opponent. However, it was Rare Akuma that Terry was worried about the most, seeing that he was a distant relative of the original Akuma of the Street Fighter Dojo. Adding to his already notorious reputation as a ‘cheap’ competitor, his classic tactics involved bombarding his opponent with unforgiving maneuvers, parrying or teleporting out of harm’s way on the spot, and lastly, self-resurrecting in the middle of a bout once he was close to getting knocked out. Of course, he was nowhere near as threatening nor deadly as the original was, but still. Just seeing how glaringly unfair the sponsor treated his team made him smile wryly, even when he knew his team still had a winning chance at the Losers’ Bracket if they lost this round.

Heh. They really hate to see us advance to the next round, huh? Is that why they allowed these guys to—

“Ouch! Hey!”

The exasperated blonde broke out of his reverie once a miniscule fist nudged his cheek, jolting to his side and rubbing the part where he’d been hit. It was only the lightest hints of jab, thankfully. At first, he thought that a smaller fellow contestant was trying to mess around with him before the tournament started until he turned his head to his left, blue eyes widening to find that the fist was, instead, coming from his long-lost pet monkey.

“Ukee??” Terry asked and blinked his eyes, making sure that what he saw was true. The monkey hopped and flailed the air vigorously, happily squeaking as if to tell his owner that he’d returned home after a long vacation trip. Terry’s smile widened, his expression one of surprise and gratitude. “Ukee!!”

Immediately dropping his bag, Terry scooped Ukee up into his arms, then rocked him like a precious, little baby, his nose nuzzling his bestest friend’s. “Aww… aren’t you a cute, wittle wascal?” Terry teased, then pinched Ukee by his earlobe, feigning punishment. “Caught you runnin’ away again! Where have you been? You made me sooo sad. I thought I would’ve never seen you again!”

If only Terry knew that Ukee had been staying at the neighboring small town this whole time where Sakura and Amaterasu just so happened to stumble across last night. Knowing how much he enjoyed their company, he must’ve been slipping out of the town in secret just to pursue the female Seekers, which eventually led him back to his bestest human friend in the world. That said, Ukee’s arrival perfectly coincided with that of Amaterasu and Cap, almost as if he was trying to inform Terry that his team was here. While Ukee rushed out of his affectionate arms to hug the furred deity, Terry gave his teammates a big wave and a smile, his mental burdens and exasperation partly wearing off.

“Hey!” he greeted. “Sup? Y’all wanna talk about our… first opponents?”

FIN.

—

When Big Band asked if anyone had mentioned the Seekers of Light, Sakura’s head sunk a bit into her shoulders. Not in a guilty way, more in a ‘I wasn’t even thinking about that’ kind of way. While she couldn’t remember if she had actually said those words, the fact that she couldn’t remember that was bad enough. She’d have to be more careful in the future. Espionage was never her strong suit. ”Uhh, I dunno. I guess I kinda assumed we were being watched at all times.” She admitted.

When the Koopa Kids arrived back, Sakura greeted their news with aplomb and applause that she struggled to maintain as they got more specific. ”Ehh, okay. Okay! No, sure, that’s- that’s something. Definitely. We can use that. Good job, Junior-kun and Rika-chan!” She said.

”I’m actually surprised that even the Flame Clocks were from someone else’s world. What the heck is Galeem’s problem? I still can’t even begin to understand its motivations…”

But that didn’t matter. Pit was dead on the money- today was all about fighting and winning. Sakura punched her fist into her palm, more than ready to get brawling.

When the golden light began to shine, Sakura clenched her fists and hopped up and down, excited. ”Come on, come on! Let’s see how the brackets shake out!” She ran over stood on her tippy toes to get to see the bulletin board with her name on it as fast as possible.

It was Pools! Sakura could be battling against any opponent in the multiverse! It could be anyone! It could be another Seeker! The drama of that! It could be a World Warrior, or it could even be…

”Two P.” Sakura’s excitement dropped like a stone. ”Well. I guess they can’t all be winners.” That guy wasn’t only just from Sakura’s world, he was a total pushover, and overall a little annoying.

”Anyone wanna practice dodging fireballs?” Sakura asked the other Seekers over the din of the crowd. ”Fireball spam is a winning strat if you don’t know how to deal with it! Or it could just keep your skills sharp. I got nothin’ to do for the next hour.” She said with a shrug.

Sectonia, being the one of the group with lots of summonable minions, decided that she'd help with moving all the debris in the way of the stagecoach as it was being repaired by Edward. She could summon all her Antlers given enough time, and with their size and strength, move all the piled up vehicles and debris in a fairly decent timeframe. What they couldn't push or carry out, they could smash into smaller bits to carry off and even if anything was explosive that went off, Sectonia could just summon more. Such is what a Queen does after all.

Blazermate, decided to give the little training thing a go. Maybe it'd have something that could help? With the others doing their things it wouldn't hurt to give it a look right? Once Blazermate got to the training simulation, she found pretty quick that it was something about... border crossing? She got a manual to read, and after that was given a challenge with some Strange Potato looking guy who gave her a weird looking, handcrafted passport thing. She had to look at her training manual, but she was pretty sure this guy wasn't supposed to pass with whatever this simulation was and Blazermate denied him. After a few moments a hat dropped from above landing on her head, it said "Arstotska #1" with its primary colors being red and gold.

The second one was a lot trickier, and while Blazermate was a robot, she didn't really think like one. She figured Ram would probably have an easier time with this part, as a diplomatic looking lady stepped up to the booth. The sheer amount of paperwork for this lady was a lot more than the first guy, and Blazermate looked it over. Everything looked fine and she passed her, but after a few seconds instead of getting her second reward, instead a pink slip appeared telling her that she did the wrong thing and what was wrong. Apparently the name of the country she was from wasn't part of the accepted list because it was misspelled. With that, the simulation started over, this time with new people.

This time Blazermate, being really annoyed at a spelling error stopping her last run, acted much more bored and apathetic. The first guy, like the last time, was easy. This time it was "no one with this passport" gets to pass, which meant the inverse was also true, and was an easy pass. The second person this time looked like a middle aged man who, unlike the first time she was at this point. And unlike the first time, she didn't get tripped up with the country thing or misspellings. Something that still made her very mad since they pulled the same trick here, but this time with sirname. For clearing this one, Blazermate got some "Mineral Rich Spring Water" which stated it "had minor healing properties." Another meh reward, but this wasn't that long or difficult so far so she went for the third one.

On the third one, this was probably something that'd get someone with a bleeding heart and who wasn't frustrated nor in 'robot' mode as this one was a mother that, through some missing paperwork, was to be denied and did what they could to plead to Blazermate to let them through. Something that, well, Blazermate didn't have the time for as she knew this was a simulation anyway and she didn't want to get the third thing wrong. But she'd remember whatever ran this place tried to pull this trick, if anything. With her stamping the denial quick to not hear all the pleading from the woman, the third and final reward dropped, a Piece of Heart. This was an item Blazermate had seen before, but she knew having just one of them wasn't all that useful. Oh well, something to put on the Avenger. Blazermate left the simulator a bit annoyed at how it handled things.

=======================



"I don't know about you guys, but I'm going to find out whoever put that hit out on us. I'll let you know what I find out between tournaments. I suppose I'll have to try though, if fighting is going to be my only income..." Roland said, hoping things would be easy. Regardless, as he was in a tournament with only one other seeker, things should be fine. Although he knew nothing about this Tekken tournament besides the basics. Still, he'd much like the others, look at his opponent in the standings.

"Huh... Good thing I applied with my mask off. I doubted anyone would even know what the "Black Silence" is. If they do uh, we might have bigger problems." Roland said. It felt weird using his color name, but hey, might as well flex while he can. His opponent was apparently some fisherman? He knew a fisherman fixer, but this was not him. "It feels weird fighting with my mask off in such a public place, but I guess thats what I've gotta do here. Might make my investigation a lot easier though." Roland said, knowing that his mask would come in handy to dig for information and keep him safe from people figuring out that Roland the fighter was investigating a big corporation from said corporation. It'd be even funnier if he could get sponsored by G corp while looking to destroy them.

As the end of the hypertube approached, Geralt shifted his weight to push himself as far ahead of the stagecoach as he could, not wanting to get crushed if he didn’t get out of the way in time. The rapid but contained deceleration from the reverse arrows was appreciated as well, curbing his momentum safely rather than sending him skittering across the room violently. He quickly shuffled away from the exit to the hypertube as the stagecoach and the others exited it, watching to make sure they all made it in one piece. A quick heal from Sandalphon ensured that they were all in good condition to carry forward, as well.

When Sandalphon gave her analysis of the area around them, Geralt spoke up quickly. “I’ll go through the cargo system. No point waiting to see if the gate’s open.” As Ed set up the Creature Creator, Geralt had an idea, releasing Tirn from his Pokeball. “We can use something from him, as well.” He alerted the others, bending down to rub the Shieldon’s plated head. “Just gonna grab some sheddings, alright?” He soothed the Pokemon, running his gauntleted hand down its back. A few scales shed off from the impromptu brushing, and Geralt offered those to the others to use as they saw fit.

Returning the Shieldon to its Pokeball, Geralt left the others to make his way to the cargo sorting system. It consisted of passageways floored with conveyor belts that slowly dragged even massive cargo containers along their paths. Lasers like the ones in the office above Vauban blocked a number of points, some static in large groups that would block all access, and others moving about to scan the height of the passage by its lonesome. The placements seemed sporadic, and by the fact that the lasers seemed to be unable to harm the cargo containers that were pulled along the conveyor belts, that was likely by design to trip up any would-be intruders like him.

The first laser was an incredibly simple single laser node, slowly moving up and down. He simply walked along the conveyor belt like a treadmill, waiting for the emitter to rise above his height before quickly dashing past it. Next were a few sets of lasers that were lower to the ground, though still high enough to reach the head of an average-sized person. These were even simpler, with Geralt simply jumping over and past the lasers, his massively enhanced strength making the maneuver child’s play.

Beyond the pair of lasers, though, was a dropoff into an ominous red-lit area. Whether this was an incinerator or simply a security checkpoint, Geralt stepped off the conveyor belt floor to the side, facing a new belt that continued perpendicular to the first. This belt had a set of lasers that covered the entire corridor, permitting no leap over, no ducking beneath, and no charging through. However, the solution for this was simple as well: he hid behind a cargo container as it passed the laser grid, harmlessly bypassing the deadly beams. He left that conveyor belt, taking a short fall of a few feet onto the next, now moving the opposite direction to where he was going initially.

This conveyor belt rose at a fairly harsh angle, at least thirty degrees, and at the crest was a mechanical sorting arm that reached out to grab him. He shuffled backwards, bumping into a moving cargo container. It jostled him and prevented retreat, but the Witcher ducked below the pincers of the sorting arm, which stopped before hitting the container and automatically widened to accommodate for the newly-detected load, the whole arm adjusting itself to move the large container rather than the much-smaller Witcher it was originally targeting.

The rest of the sorting system continued as such, for not much longer as Geralt avoided lasers, sorting arms, and drop-offs that threatened a broken ankle if a fall was taken poorly. As he reached the end, the control center opened before him.



Within were a few Naytibas, and Geralt sighed softly. Of course there were. Still, he’d dispatched the creatures before, and as the droid and heavy droid advanced, he transformed into LCCB Assistant Manager to try and get used to his new shield. His pistol shots did fairly minor damage to the infected machines individually, but the buildup of Tremor quickly overwhelmed the base droid, staggering it and leaving it wide open to further damage.

The heavy droid reached Geralt by that point, hefting its blade and swinging at the Witcher to try and overwhelm his guard. He activated the trigger mechanism on the Black Steel, electrifying it for a brief moment, but long enough to negate the blow from the heavy droid and knock its attack pattern off. He felt a surge as he gained Charged Defense as he shoved the shield forward, knocking back the heavy droid and leaving it open for a moment to a few shots from his pistol. Backing up to reload as the heavy droid attempted to attack again, he fired at its knees to try and force it to lower its guard. Instead, the infected machine charged forward as the other droid recovered.

Cursing, Geralt backpedalled as he stowed the pistol and pulled his shield aside to cast Aard with his free hand. With the Naytibas destabilized for a moment, he transformed into Ardor Blossom and surged forward, claws tearing into infested steel and rending the basic droid to pieces. As he turned to face the heavy droid, pain blossomed across his side as its superheated blade sliced him, dealing massively increased damage due to the Identity’s lack of armor. He leapt backwards in concern, adrenaline dumping into his veins as his breath quickened. Not quite a panic attack, but as his eyes narrowed and his stomach twisted, Geralt remembered the experience of a single blow nearly killing him and snarled.

The heavy droid advanced behind its shield, not pressing its luck after getting a hit off. He transformed again, back to his natural Identity, the wound hidden beneath his armor now. Drawing the electric katana he got from Monsoon, he advanced with a feinting slash that triggered a guard from the Naytiba. With agility far beyond his opponent, Geralt danced past its guard and cut at and through the arm holding its shield, bringing the katana back up to deflect an incoming slash before slicing it across the heavy droid’s body and stunning it for a split second. Without resistance, he stabbed his blade through its chest, crushing its knee joint with a kick and carving through its torso to split it vertically, the Naytiba overwhelmed by the damage and dissolving to ash.

Grabbing the Spirits from both machines, he crushed them and took a look at the resulting materials.



The batteries were quickly set aside as he more closely examined the Robot Tentacles, frowning as he studied them and frowned. The hand-like manipulators seemed like they would lack somewhat in dexterity, but he could see some of the others making use of these for tasks requiring many inputs. If he could make any sense of them, he could even use them to handle alchemical ingredients, though he doubted it was worth doing so.

“Sandalphon, I’ve reached the control room for the gate. I’m releasing the lock.” How was he able to do this without sufficient technological acumen?

A large button that was labelled ‘Gate Control: Open/Lock’. It seemed that whoever built this place had at least made it easy to get through the gate if an emergency occurred. Given what was going on around them…it seems they were ready, but not for the right threat.

With the gates opened, Geralt left the control center and made his way back to the others, new gear in hand.

Everything from last night until now was something of a haze. With the destruction of the motel, it became necessary for all the Seekers to find alternative shelters for the night. And for Captain Falcon, that meant a tired walk back into the Low Tier so he could pay the Breakers Dojo a visit. It was the only place he knew of that he could go to. Luckily for him, Sawamura was still present when Cap arrived and was able to let him in and help prepare a cot to sleep on. Everyone else at the Dojo had already left for the night, however.

Now it was morning, and the F-Zero pilot sat on a floor mat in front of a table with Sawamura. The sensei acquired a modest breakfast of rice omelets and a few dumplings that he then shared with Falcon. And this was also the primary opportunity for him to explain what had happened last night as they ate.

“Hmm, troubling.” Sawamura said, sipping on a cup of tea, “While it’s true that G-Corp are the ones responsible for manufacturing those robots, they are not the only company in Esaka that uses them.”

That came as a surprise to Falcon, who paused mid bite an omelet. ”So then… there’s no guarantee that Mishima is behind the raid?” Falcon had thought for certain the attack was some form of retaliation for Nadia’s earlier thefts. Now he wasn’t so certain.

“Correct.” Sawamura confirmed with a nod. “They are also used by Howard Connection among other… organizations. Though if I may speak plainly…” he paused, “...Howard Connection is the one most relevant to your team and the KOF for reasons you may have already guessed.”

”Geese.” Falcon said somberly, eliciting a nod of confirmation from Sawamura. Terry had mentioned the name several times, he recalled, but Cap didn’t know the full story. Maybe it would be pertinent of him to hear it from Terry later when they got the opportunity. Falcon quickly finished the last of his meal and stood up. ”I need to get back with the others. Thank you for letting me stay the night, sensei.”

“Of course.” Sawamura said with a nod, “Just… be careful, Captain. Sometimes these tournaments have a habit of being more than what they seem.”

Cap nodded and then departed from the dojo. He figured the other Seekers had already met up for breakfast by now, and he had a feeling they would have already split up again by the time he tried to link up with them. It might just be better if he started for the Pools now since he at least would be guaranteed to find Terry and Amaterasu there. The walk also gave the bounty hunter some extra time to process the attack last night and the words of advice that Sawamura had offered him earlier.

”More than what they seem…” Falcon murmured to himself, echoing Sawamura’s words. ”You don’t know the half of it, Sensei.” Naturally, Sawamura knew nothing about Galeem, Moebius, or the connection the Four Kings had to those things. But it still impressed him that Sawamura would be able to sense something being off enough to offer a word of warning like that. Maybe some folks in the World of Light could be more… perceptive of things than Galeem gave them credit for? Or maybe these tournaments were simply that rampant with corruption?

In any case, it all only served to steel the Captain’s resolve further to fight his way through this thing and take out at least one of the Four Kings. This obviously wasn’t just about competing anymore.

When he finally made it to the Pools, Falcon spotted Terry’s burly form waving him over and jogged the rest of the way to where his teammates were, ”Sorry I didn’t show for breakfast.” He told Terry and Ammy apologetically, ”Spent the night at the Breakers Dojo and Sawamura invited me to have breakfast with him. Didn’t want to turn him down and look rude, you know?”

Cap took a look for himself at the board containing the Team Names and brackets, seeing for himself who their first opponent was going to be. ”Team MUGEN, huh?” Cap said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ”What do you know about ‘em, Terry?”

Following Belial's defeat and subsequent disappearance the Seekers regrouped as they prepared to traverse the tunnel that was their way forward. The magnetized tunnel, it seemed, as even as Adam described it Ace could guess how the metal carriage would interact with that. Just like the electrified gun barrel he and Edward had tinkered with the other day, there was no way this hypertube wouldn't be sending the coach rocketing out toward the other side. Interesting, really interesting - but also sort of sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. Well, since this thing was built for transport they just had to trust there were stopgaps in place to slow it down, or that its weight was heavy enough not to make it into a missile on wheels.

The hunter had skirted out of range of Sandalphon's healing spell a little earlier, but his own potion-based method of healing meant he was still healthy enough to help shove the coach into position until Edward's golems could take the place of the dwindling reindrix team. None of those who'd gone to open the locks knew that the crimson naytiba had specifically targeted the reindrix first in order to prevent escape, so it was easy for Ace to let the disappointed and accusatory tone of their questions and comments roll off his back.

"It was a lot smarter than your average monster," he said. "It had a strategy and it ambushed us. Obviously not unbeatable though! We just gotta Wacha out so it doesn't Kecha us unprepared again."

When the time came to actually enter the tube and Eve gave her demonstration, the Cadet was torn between excitement and concern. On one hand, it looked pretty fun - he'd love to try surfing like that! On the other, her poor blade! There was no way it was meant to be used like that. Maybe if he had a larger shield like Geralt... Ace briefly considered just pulling off a chunk of metal from the floor or a wall, but quickly decided it would take too long. He could try riding on his long sword or take the carriage, and after some back and forth with himself he chose the former. Adam had said there was some kind of 'cushion,' and if he thought about it even if the weapon did scrape the tunnel's interior it wouldn't be so different from how a grinding wheel worked.

He balanced carefully on the flat of the blade, letting the front runners get a head start and the carriage to go on ahead so that if Belial happened to try and follow them through, there would be someone to watch the group's back. When Ace kicked off the ground though and really got going through the hypertube, he found that taking rear guard duty seriously was going to be harder than he thought. It took concentration not to take a tumble, and more so to avoid random debris. Thankfully there was less to deal with in following the coach rather than racing ahead of it, and it didn't take long before Ace got a real handle on moving like this. He grinned and let out a whoop as they sped through the tube, even getting a bit gutsy and dipping his weight to try his sharpening theory.

Coming out the other end the grin was practically glued to Ace's face. His hair was a wind-tousled mess and his sword glinted suspiciously on the cutting edges, but he called out to Heismay even while peeling a Skulling from his back. "I'm alright too. That was radalos!"

The hunter certainly wouldn't decline another trip through one of those hypertubes if needed. For now though, he looked around at the area the Seekers found themselves in now. It was similar to where they'd just come from, all modern metal, only open air. Ace cast his gaze up at the huge spire, curious about it and if it really did extend all the way into space, before he traced it back down to earth.

"I've been wondering," he said aloud, casual and off-hand. "All these abandoned places... do you think they got built around the Midnight Walk and deteriorated, or whoever made the path just forged it right through?"

If the World of Light was hundreds of years old, it would make sense if it was the former wouldn't it? He thought about it a little more until Sandalphon called with a list of things that needed doing. Geralt volunteered to head through the cargo area to open the gate, Sectonia had her minion bugs shove the vehicles aside, and Heismay, Blazermate, and the boss herself went to investigate the checkpoint. Ace rubbed the back of his head as he thought where he'd best be of use.

"Guess I'll see what I can do about the coach," he said. He'd been having a lot of luck with things a little outside of his wheelhouse like this, and besides - he could re-armor a carriage. It might not look good at the end, but with a little polish it'd be passable. Just press the dents out, buff out the scratches, maybe borrow someone's fire power to weld some new plates on... yeah, definitely doable!

As he approached the massive metal carriage, Ace could get a good look at Edward's fusion project. Or projects, plural. Leave it to the military commander to be inclined to make a small army. The Cadet was more than happy to leave the man to designing and creating the creatures, though his curiosity did get the best of him and he popped over for an even closer look at the Snoruyo.

"Freaky," he commented with an expression that was more playful than actually disturbed. The machine itself had looked pretty easy to use too, but he wasn't going to butt in. Well, anymore than offering Edward another piece to play with.

"I meant to give this to you before, but here." Ace produced a thin purpleish strip of skin with a few small, delicate ray bones still in it. It was very clearly a piece of one of the monsters the group encountered early into the ice canyon area. "From the leviathans. Not sure how helpful it'd be in pulling a cart, but can't hurt to have more to work with right?"

With that handed over, Ace got started on what he could for the stage coach. Depending on how long they had before everyone else was done, there was only so much he'd be able to get done. Step one would be making sure the wheels were all uniform so the weight distribution was even. He doubted they'd be able to make any entirely new wheels on short notice after all. Step two was working on the body. He kept an eye out even while he did what he could, not just for his teammates' returns but any sign of the naytiba that had gotten away.