Well used to being on the road or shacked up in whatever lodgings were available, Edward went through his morning routine with regimented efficiency, having awoken at six without need for any sort of alarm. He washed, shaved, dressed, rearmed, and then got stuck right into the task at hand without much thought, mind instead focused on reviewing their surroundings once more with the scout swarm.

”Region still seems calm, no hostiles spotted” He would report upon joining the others, before also saying that ”The Avenger seems to have passed by and dropped off a batch of those pal-spheres thanks to Ace’s efforts last night, though it seems that we’ll need metal and cement if we want superior versions”

Fortunately ‘capturing’ the already tame Snoruyo didn’t prove much of an issue, as he could simply order them to not resist. He considered capturing some of the others, but the traffikrab was entirely happy to perch on the coach, while the two Somnacanth derived impossible creatures were entirely capable of keeping up with the sheildrix drawn stagecoach.

Assuming they could be kept fed. Both were ravenous for protein due to their predatory components, and they weren't exactly swimming in provisions to feed them.

Fortunately, the road provided a solution, as, after they spotted (and spooked) the first wild sheep, Edward came up with a plan. He slowed their progress a little so that the two predators could slink into the woods and, within, get ahead of the coach. Then, once there, he used a drone to guide them to a spot behind some grazing sheep, where they lay in ambush. Finally, he moved them forwards, the thunder of hooves and rumble of wheels startling the herbivores, and sending them running right into a wave of sleep gas produced by the Chillanth.

With their prey out cold, it and then Somnadrix could then dig in, ripping hunks off of the prey species as they slayed them, leaving detaching mouthfuls of meat or gored out guts of the animals behind as the rest of them turned to ash.

Not exactly a very efficient way of eating prey, Edward thought, but then speculated that Galeem’s reality simply spawned in replacements to keep the population numbers up. Plus keeping the predators unsated made them more likely to attack people or places, which was a state of affairs he would not be surprised was an intention feature of this slaughterhouse of a reality.

Still, respawning prey or not, there were only so many wild sheep to be found along the road, and the ambushes were hardly perfect to boot. As such they ended up acquiring a scant nine spirits from this effort.

These were handed off to Sandalphon for processing. Initially they made use of the symbol of avarice, but when the first 4 spirits produced more worked goods than raw meat, they speculated that its upgrading of crushing results might have been getting in the way of their aim. Subsequent hatless testing proved this to indeed be the case, giving them a mix of the meat they desired, along with a few crafting components.



The ‘higher quality’ items weren't entirely useless at the very least. The rug provided a slightly softer surface for the stage coach riders to rest their feet on, while the window, weird as it was stylistically, let light and a view into the tomb of an interior for the first time during the journey.

The mutton, naturally, went into the stewpot, while the crook could at the very least be used as firewood, and perhaps someone could make use of the wool to craft some extra clothing if they wanted it.

Or it could be used as a crude pillow.

Either way, that was going to be their lot, as the forests eventually petered out, and was soon replaced by a burnt out town which Samdalphon requested they take their time heading through town.

Edward had zero problem with this, as he’d let the scout drones he’d not dismissed take a look at the unorthodox road ahead, and wanted to experiment before they gave it their own go.

Thus, while the sheldrix trotted through town at a more leisurely pace, and the two sheep hunting creatures laid down to properly digest their meals, Edward created and sent forth a swarm of inferno puppies to see what the odd green arrows on the road ahead did. Which was how anyone looking got to watch a pile of pyro pups go tumbling through the air when they where launched at high speed by the boostpads

Edward considered this to be ”Intresting” out loud, but internally wasn’t exactly looking forward to putting the stage coach through that. Hence, when he found out Tenna had set up traps for the (smaller) rabbits, he decided they should entirely stop for just a little bit to wait for them to sprung, allowing him time to seek out a slight solution to the problem of flying uncontrollably through the air.

Unfortunately, after setting up a creature chamber, and adding a stray snowy owl feather and a strand of ovis wool into the sample receiver, he came to an unfortunate discovery.

”I regret to report that we won’t be able to create flying creatures using the creature chamber. I am unsure why this restriction exists, perhaps it is due to the size changed, but its there”

Which meant that they were going to have to strap in and face the music head on without any shewls providing stabilizing flight when the stagecoach went the way of the inferno puppies.

”Best strap in and hold on tight when we get moving, it is going to be something of a bumpy ride”

Not needing anything in the way of sustenance, Blazermate helped people where she could but outside of scouting, scanning, and healing or the occasional punch there wasn't a whole lot for her to do. She could help hunt for food though, and that'd be helpful for those that needed to eat. Although curious as to the whole 'leveled up firemaking' thing, before they left the cabin they had slept in, Blazermate took whatever flammable garbage and such was there outside and started a fire with it. Fireworks appeared over her head again as the same thing that told her that level thing before said she was now level 16, a massive jump from before as she burned a whole lot of stuff at once. She didn't know what this would actually do, but maybe it'd make itself known in time? She contemplated burning down the entire cabin, but she decided against it since they'd probably have to come back this way.

Speaking of said cabin, outside of Tenna's apparent malfunctioning minigame of which she won due to her ability to cause mass destruction in a minigame based around such an idea, Sectonia had a fairly restful night. While her antlers did most of the cleaning, it seemed everyone on White team was pretty neat and proper or were getting there. Or were of the type that didn't sleep at all, something she once tried via magic but decided wasn't worth the boredom. Still, while still a bit strange and a couple of them looking more grotesque as they fused with more and more spirits, overall she'd say while not up to her opulent standards her allies were doing mostly what they could.

Once they reached their next stop, a town inhabited by rabbits, Blazermate offered to help look for food. While finding vegitables would be something difficult for her unless they were combat ready, finding animals was a lot easier. Although with so many bunnies around, they'd be the ones on the menu it seemed. Ramattra and Tenna going after the bunnies with traps and such. Blazermate would assist them, and being the fastest of the bunny hunters, could occasionally just swoop down like a bird and grab one or snipe one with a divine star or trap one with a Disruption. However these would take a lot longer to do than the initial trap idea.

Sectonia seeing the Soulfisher, someone she had talked to before that had given them the information about this trail, decided to have another chat with him. While he wasn't the prettiest thing to look at, he was useful and for the most part harmless, so asking a few more questions couldn't hurt. Much like before, she had to use her fire breath to light his fire to wake him from his stupor. After greeting him, Sectonia asked the obvious question. "How did you get here before us? Last I remember you were still in Snowdin when we left."

The old drifter awoke with a start, blinking his empty sockets at the familiar visage of the swarm queen. "Well, howdy! Been a li'l spell since we crossed paths, eh?" He rubbed his chin, mulling over her question. "How'd I get here, hmm...well, maybe my walk looked a bit different from yours. Could be you're walkin' it backwards-like, this road I've been travelin' a long while." He chuckled. "If that's the case, of course I got here before you did. And if that don't make sense, well, hehe...that's jus' par for the course on the Midnight Walk."

"Considering how strange things can be sometimes I'll accept that. I'd also assume you didn't have to purge an entire zoo of corrupted, malformed creatures or a space elevator full of corrupted flesh." Sectonia said, offhandedly mentioning their journey so far. She left out the town they visited as well as the cabin for now as unlike the zoo and space elevator, they weren't as bad even if the town was full of ugly cybernetics.

"I've noticed a running theme with this 'midnight walk', people seem to be either warped or corrupted by one thing or another and all are sarkik in theme. Or I suppose I should say, 'flesh' in theme, distorted in some form or another. Is this a regular occurrence or is this a new thing?" Sectonia asked.

The Soulfisher stared at her, perplexed. "I'm afraid I can't rightly say. Lots of folks out there are sufferin' in one way or another. I figure, no matter where the Midnight Walk leads you, you'll find folks who need somethin', in some way or another." He gave a thin smile as he looked out over the ruins of Coalhaven. "Ain't that why we wander, after all?"

Sectonia took that as a "no, thats not normal." which meant perhaps either they were just unlucky or something else was at work here. Musings for the group later. She then answered her question with a hesitant "I... suppose." as the Seekers wandered, but out of necessity than choice. Regardless, she then asked a followup question of her own. "So you've walked this trail a few times it seems. Any information on what lies ahead or perhaps areas around here that might be of interest?"

Shivering, her new acquaintance shook his head. "Hoo, boy. It just gets colder and darker from here on in, missie. Worse and worse the closer it gets to Moon Mountain. Better make sure you and your pals got a way to keep warm out there. Keep your friends close. Hold on to whatever li'l spark o' life you got. And whatever you do, don't let the lights go out." The Soulfisher chuckled darkly. "Then again, the dark's a funny thing sometimes. If you're stuck up the creek without a paddle, you could always try beseechin' the dark itself for help." He lifted a burning stick from the little inferno in front of him and help it up like a torch. "...With an offerin' of fire." He stared at Sectonia. "Careful, though. If the dark starts expectin' your offerin's, you better not leave it...wantin'."

"Good to know, although I have a feeling if the dark wants to pick a fight, it might find itself in trouble when it fights darkness darker than dark itself." Sectonia said, holding up a globule of void to make her point. But seeing as she had taken both powerful darkness and powerful light into her, she then gave off a bit of an ethereal glow before going back to normal. "Or the burning radiance of the sun, but I will not blind you with that. Regardless, I do appreciate the warning. Warmth is something we should figure out before we leave town then. I'd rather not freeze on a mountain top... again..." Sectonia said, referring tot he last time she climbed a mountain with the seekers. She then had one final question before she'd just engage with idle storytelling with the Soulfisher. "Do you know of a sword around here? An information broker from a distant land mentioned something about it being around this area."

After a moment, the Soulfisher shook his head. "Nothin' comes to mind. Could be a good deal farther in."

She expected this, but it didn't hurt to ask. Seeing as he was more or less a traveler along this path, Sectonia recalled their story so far in better detail instead of the slight mentions of corrupted flesh they had seen either, although with her own embellishments and denouncements where necessary. The latter more spent towards all the corrupted creatures and flesh they had dealt with, and the former about how she disposed of them.

"Well now, ain't that somethin'," the Soulfisher marveled at Sectonia's tales. "A place where folks kept horrid critters locked up in cages, and ladder tall enough to reach beyond the sky. Maybe I oughta head the way you came, and take a looksie for myself." As he looked up at the dark clouds, a snowflake landed between his shockets. He brushed at the chilly sensation, shivering. "Then again...it's gettin' awful cold out there. If I'm gonna stick around long enough to see the sun come back, maybe I'm better off stayin' right here."

Sectonia nodded, and while she had a personal hatred of the cyborg town out of principle, she did mention that they seemed to be good at fires. Offhandedly mentioning one of the other seekers, Blazermate learning how to make fire from them for whats thats worth.

As it turned out, sometimes an empty house was just an empty house. A pretty nice one too, with no hidden hostiles or secret death traps.

It was still pretty dim outside when morning rolled around, but there were working clocks around to tell the time once everyone began to rouse themselves. Having slept in the spacious living room, Ace wouldn't have been able to stay asleep once the group got up and around even if he wasn't prone to waking up early. At first he laid still with his eyes closed, just enjoying a peaceful morning in the still relatively warm lodge. The ambient sounds of Seekers waking up and getting ready were more calming to him than he expected, but then again it did make sense. Lately he'd been sleeping solo in rooms all to himself, when back in his world it was more often that he'd bunk with other hunters, or at minimum his handler if they needed to camp out. This soft, early morning noise was nice; a different vibe than communal breakfasts or strategy meetings.

"Hup!" Ace said to himself as he swiftly pushed himself up and got to his feet. Yes, the morning feel was nice even with the weather outside, but it couldn't last forever. He wouldn't want it to anyway. It was a quick thing to clean up his sleeping space (just stuff the things he'd left out into his bag and roll up the sleeping mat), so the hunter was redressed and ready to go within a couple minutes.

"Good morning everybody," he greeted once just about everyone was gathered. Compared to the previous morning, Ace was more chipper today. He hadn't had any issues falling asleep, and his prior worries about being surrounded by so many magic-wielding allies had softened. The amulet Edward had forged for him was even worn properly around his neck rather than tied onto his belt.

Once all of the White Team was prepared and headed out to the coach, the discovery that the stew pot hadn't miraculously filled itself once more had been a pretty big damper on the morning though. There were still the fruits and such that Ace had collected last night, as well as what Ramattra had brought back in a second foray into the woods, plus the travel rations... but it was hardly a filling breakfast, especially when they had to be, well, rationed.

But! It was fine. They'd been through a couple of towns yesterday so it stood to reason they would find at least one today. First chance he got and the Cadet was prepared to spend what remained of his zenny on as much food as he could stomach. Or carry. Or both, preferably. He heard Sandalphon's suggestion of hunting, but it really was tougher than it looked to carve off a piece of an animal or monster before it died and turned to ashes.

He had been getting practice doing just that though, so Ace nodded to her and said, "got it, boss."

This time Ace had opted to ride outside of the stagecoach this go around as given the carriage's size the driver's seat was more than wide enough to fit multiple people. He doubted his sense were as good as Heismay's but they were pretty good and he could still help keep watch. Not to mention it would be easier to quickly disembark to grab anything interesting or edible.

Maybe they'd get lucky with some spirits, since sometimes they turned into food or entire plated meals.

Either way, as part of his morning preparation the matched pair of blades (if one could really call them that) obtained from one of the leviathan spirits were somewhat eagerly hung at the Cadet's waist, meaning the the longsword Yato had been bumped to being sheathed at his back, and his native Master Bang was tucked into his pack. Even now it didn't feel wrong to hope to get a chance to use the new weapons soon, but even so he kept the thought to himself. He'd gladly venture out to test the dual blades if he got the chance, but he wouldn't invite danger onto the rest of the team if he could help it - so when the morning's journey got underway and nothing rushed to attack or sprang an ambush on the Seekers, he couldn't be too disappointed.

And it even happened that the carnivorous impossible creatures did just fine on the hunting front, being able to strike out and then catch back up with the stagecoach much more easily than a human could. So it was that Ace had little to do while on the move but lean back and take in the snowy landscape.

Eventually the Seekers did make it to another town, though it didn't seem likely there'd been any kind of grocery or restaurant in this one. As the coach slowed Ace stood up with the intent to hop down and explore it anyway. He patted Edward's shoulder as he disembarked, saying, "let me know if you want a break driving today. I think I can get the hang of it pretty fast."

Besides his natural affinity for adaptation, he'd watched the man drive the steeds for long enough that he could at the very least sub in if needed... after getting through those weird ramps, though.

While Edward fiddled more with the creature chamber, and Tenna and Ramattra tried their hands at making and setting traps (only for Ace to let them know there were more robust traps in the coach, since neither had actually been around when they'd been purchased), Ace poked around the town. Besides the mammals it seemed totally abandoned. The hunter poked his head into various wilting buildings to see if he could spot anything interesting before making his way to the huge furnace to inspect it.

Place is a ghost town probably because it broke, the Cadet thought to himself as he walked up to it, looking straight up at its highest smoke stack before drawing his eyes back down its metal surface to the big door on its front. It look just like a regular furnace as far as he could tell, just giant sized. What could have happened to it? Was it fed in some special way that malfunctioned?

Ace walked around it, the change in perspective making something hanging on the cold furnace catch his eye. It was a little awkward to spot given his low vantage point and the darkness of the cloudy, snowing morning, but there seemed to be chains wrapped around it. Pale, ghostly chains that obscured the hatch that would have otherwise been used to feed the fire inside. Was that the reason it had gone out, or had someone sealed it up after the fact?

"Huh," Ace murmured, intrigued. There wasn't a way to tell when the furnace had been chained up, but if they were gone then maybe it would bring some life back to this town: a warm little bastion in the Frozen Highlands.

...or not, as the hunter quickly discovered the chains were very, very durable. He'd tried shooting them with a few arrows (so as not to startle his allies or anything else in the area with gunshots), but even if they were strong enough to pierce armored hides and metallic robot chassis they left not a scratch on the chains. After a moment to steel himself into getting closer to the lowest hanging chains he'd tried again with the Yato, and with the severed arm of that crimson Naytiba, but it was the same result. In other words, not something he could do anything about.

Anything besides report it, at least. "That big stove is locked up tight, I couldn't get the binds to budge," he said as he regrouped with the others, nodding towards the furnace. "I thought it would have been nice to get it running again, but... guess that idea went up in smoke."

Though if anyone else planning to investigate or take a crack at it before they moved on, the Cadet would definitely accompany them to see if anything came of it.

After watching the end of the first round of Pit’s second match, the koopa kids had sailed off to stake out Rika’s chosen meeting spot. The manner they had done this was by scaling up to one of the rooftops overlooking the elevator, sitting themselves down on its precipice, and then staring at their screens (Jr on his Rotom Phone, Rika on a clunky handheld she could use while wearing her gauntlets) while occasionally checking to see if anyone had shown up.

When the linkpearl call from Rika reached Big Band, it found him only about half a minute away from the southern elevator himself, since that lift happened to be closest for the World Warrior competitors while being rather far from the Mortal Kombat and King of Fighters sections of the pools. He was impressed with his good luck until the detective realized that attending this rendezvous would mean changing course from his plan to get himself repaired. The damage he’d suffered during his scuffle with Rhajang was more than superficial, after all. With one of his respirator’s tubes torn, actually breathing in the giant iron lung that constituted his mechanical body was a lot more difficult.

Then again, Junior knew his way around technology, didn’t he? If Tora had managed to figure out Band’s inner workings and tune him up in Twilight Town, Bowser’s kid could probably do the same, even if robotics wasn’t his specialty. With that vague hope in mind, Band waited for and then stepped aboard the lift with a handful of Esaka citizens. Idly he watched the matches unfolding around him get farther and farther away below him. Once the detective reached the Middle Tier, his form would be hard for the koopa kids to miss.

Despite this, it took a few moments for one of them to look up from their screens and to do so. Once Jr did so (mostly out of frustration at his lack of progress) he nudged his sister to get her attention.

”Hmmm?” she said, half glancing up, and then once Big Band was pointed out, she replied ”Oh. Right. He’s one of ours?”

”He kinda stands out, but yeah, we really don’t know a bunch of the people on this team, huh?” he replied, as he stashed his phone. Rika gave a noncommittal shrug in reply before simply slipping over the edge of the rooftop, eyes still on her handheld. She plummeted to the ground, only to land soft as a feather on the pavement below, startling a few passerbys in the process.

Her brother got down via some reverse wall jumps, and then joined his sister in strolling over to Big Band. About halfway there, Rika groaned as her handheld made a sad little jingle, and only then put the toy away and gave the big man a big handed wave and a ”Hi there”

Roland had been making his way to the same location as Band, although while wearing his mask so that people couldn’t track him. He fought with it off in these tournaments, a conscious decision he made after G Corp had done their little attack on the Seekers so that it would make his movement through the city easier. Speaking of, he had been on the same elevator as Big Band, but kept to himself, instead following him until Rika and Jr. met up with him. Once they waved to Band, Roland made his presence known as well. ”Hey, how's the whole not fighting thing going?” Roland said, moving in a way that got Rika and Jr.'s attention.

”Huh, where’d you… I mean… yeah it's been fine?” the koopa prince replied, stumbling a bit over his words at the fixer’s casual stealthyness

Rika wasn’t particularly taken aback meanwhile, most likely because she’d only just started paying attention, and so replied more descriptively ”Yup. Been watching Pit’s matches, plus my brother’s looking some stuff up online about those G-Corp guys”

”Yeah. Its, uh, not much to go off though” Jr admitted

To this Rika just shrugged and asked them both ”How’s the fighting thing going?”

“Ain’t lost a round yet,” Band told the pair. “But that last one did a number on me, as you can probably tell. They had me fightin’ an honest-to-God tiger. Buff as hell, too. Pumped up full o’ steroids or somethin’.” Hopefully the kids were paying enough attention by now to notice his clawed-up hat and trench coat, as well as the damage done to his frame and his ripped respirator. “Actually, I was hopin’ you’d be able to do somethin’ about the state I’m in, li’l man. Heard you’re a whiz kid on par with Tora.”

Band glanced up at the sky, as if looking for the Avenger. “Speakin’ of. I guess he and Poppi ain’t adventurin’ any more? We were together on Yellow Team a week or two ago.”

”Yeah its kinda lame, but I guess he’s happier in a workshop than running around” Jr replied, as he ambled on over to take a look at Big Band’s tech ”Not exactly swimming in spare bits here, but I can do a patch job for sure”

”I haven’t lost any rounds either. Well, individual rounds in each match, but not the whole match. While the power of the library makes me really tough, it takes some time to get going…” Roland said. ”A whole lot of goofballs in my matches though. Fought a wrestling fisherman then some. Charlatan? I don’t know, I’ve never seen someone like him in my world. Usually people dressed like that are so high up the totem pole I’d see them maybe once and that's only for a super high paying job if that. But this guy was a total goofball.” Roland continued, explaining his battles. Band then got to his request to fix up his cyborg parts, something Roland really couldn’t help him with, but he did get an idea.

”Doesn’t Jr. have some sort of… weird teleporting power with paint? If he has something on the Avenger, if he can’t fix you up, I’m sure he can get you to someone who can and back in no time at all.”

”Never really tried it on something that moves before, so like, maybe you’d end up in the drop pod room, or maybe you’d end up in the middle of the air. We just used the fulton things to get back last night” Jr replied, as he got out some tools, and set about using a combo of mechanical and magical skill to patch up Big Band. A mix of ferromancy made parts and miraculous ”Cure!” Spells replaced what had been destroyed, while screwdriver, hammer and pliers salvaged what had just been loosened or bent out of shape.

It’d get the big man up and running, but as the prince had said, it was a patch job. Pure iron wasn’t exactly a good replacement for brass and steel after all, but it would hold till they took the time to source proper materials. Of course, these repairs left the detective’s trench coat and hat disheveled. It would also take more delicate and specialized materials to repair his respirator, so for now Band’s iron lung would still be wheezing.

Rika meanwhile kept the match talk going as her brother worked.

”The… fishermen are higher ups where you are from?” Rika asked with a head tilt, before saying that ”Most of the top tier fighters here just look like, well, humans in fairly straightforward outfits. Well except the Mortal Kombat ones they’re kinda colorful for some reason” having seen a few of them in action during their run around with Pit and Zeus.

”But yeah, we saw that everyone was doing well, which is good. Sept whoever that Kim guy is, he out already”

”People being in straightforward outfits is pretty common where I come from. Usually if someone is in a well tailored suit like I am means they’re very dangerous. Outside of R corp, most fighters use nice looking clothes with the durability of full body armor. ” Roland said, almost expecting something like that. ”I just wonder when we’re getting paid.”

"I'm sure you'll have to play up your act a bit more," came a familiar voice in answer.

It had taken some time for Primrose and Therion to reach the meeting point, especially as neither was particularly in a rush. As the two Orsterrans joined the loose circle of Seekers, Primrose stood with one hand on her hip and explained a little more of her reasoning to Roland. "The yokai donate to the competitors they like the best, isn't that right? So until you make it far, or add a little flair to your fighting, I'm not sure you'll see any zenny for a little while."

She spoke with the barest hint of amusement, as she might like to see some of the team try their hand at hyping up a crowd - not that these early rounds had much of one.

Regardless, now that she and Therion had arrived the latter figured any actual on-topic discussion hadn't happened yet, since the others had been chatting about clothes and money. The thief's tail twitched before he spoke up too, bringing the conversation back to the initial reason they'd gathered.

"So? How're we going to plan to take in the G-Corp bounty?" he asked of the group at large, glancing up at the next tier where the corporation in question's building stood. "I'm sure most of them are holed up in their headquarters, but it's not like we can walk in through the front door."

“Then, we’ll take ’em down when they least expect it.”

Then, from behind the gathering bunch, Terry appeared leisurely, seemingly alongside his partners. As usual, he brought along a duffle bag and the pet monkey perched on his shoulder, tightening his grip on the bag’s rough string. It appeared that Rika’s call through the linkpearl had caught up with him, too (only moments after his team emerged victorious in a bout against Team Breakers). He halted his strides, standing between Primrose and Therion.

“Better yet, when they’re all distracted or off-duty. Usually, in tournament weeks like this, most of their champs will have to leave the base to participate in a tourney. Bryan, Bruce, Sergei, Chloe, the Williams sisters, you name ’em. Normally, even their head honcho has to leave the base, too, to compete in the Tekken series,” Terry elaborated, his voice a matter-of-fact. “And assuming that they all signed up for the Tekken tourney—since they’re all part of the Tekken Dojo—it’s safe to say that they’ll be occupied for most of the day because… the Tekken tourney’s got some of the tightest schedules around, alright? And their matches last longer than usual since it’s a ‘best-outta-three’ contest. If we ever get there during the tournament hours, the best that we’ll meet is probably a bunch of unnamed researchers and soldiers packing the base from floor to floor. And knowin’ y’all, I got no doubt we can handle ’em just fine.” He absently tipped the brim of his cap, his bright blue eyes a hint of steely determination. “So, whaddaya say? Maybe you guys have better ideas in mind?”

Band considered the proposal. “Assumin’ it’s true that they’re all in Tekken, that leaves us in a bit of a bind, seein’ as most of us are registered for tournaments as well. Aside from Kim, it’s just you kids, and you two with consistent free time.” He nodded at the Octopath Travelers. “Unless we wanna get disqualified. I know I only got a an hour or two ‘til I gotta fight again. World Warrior’s got even more competition than Tekken.” He turned this way and that, quickly surveying his surroundings. “Luckily, we don’t gotta leave it to guesswork. Check it out.”

Carefully maneuvering around his much smaller compatriots, Band stomped over to a billboard a few hundred feet away. With a little finagling, the magical artifact shifted to display the current bracket for the Tekken tournament. Band read quickly, absorbing every detail. “I see Bryan Fury, Sergei Dragunov, who you mentioned. No Williams though, or Kazuya himself for that matter.” He gave a wry smile as he inhaled, as best he could with his broken equipment. Not being privy to the list of accomplices Junior found, those were the only names he had to go on. “Figured as much. No time for messin’ around in tournaments when your life’s on the line.” He looked over his shoulder at the others. “And there’s no tellin’ how many more o’ them mohawk-havin’ robots they got up their sleeves.”

”Kinda crazy any of them are still competing” Jr commented as he packed away his tools, before bringing up the list he’d found, and adding ”Julia Chang, Azucena Ortiz and Marshall Law” to the list of names they were looking for.

“Now that you mention it, I see Law in the tournament, too,” Band reported.

”They make ‘Gigas supersoldiers’ too, so we’re gonna have to worry about whatever those are if they didn't send any after you. Also, uh, ‘animal experimentation’ on top of the robots and genetic engineering so I guess maybe some kinda freaky beasts too” Rika chimed in to add, before saying ”Apprently they sell this stuff, but we’ve no idea to who given there’s not exactly an armies to sell too here.”

The animal experimentation got a growl of anger from Amatarasu, as well as a grimace from Ukee who had been paying attention to what his human friend had been discussing with his team, as if trying to decipher and comprehend every word spoken. Terry noticed, then comforted his monkey friend.

“Shush… It’s okay, buddy. You’ll be alright as long as I’m around,” he reassured, his voice soothing and reaffirming. Then, he turned his gaze towards the other Seekers, also noticing the lit billboard in front of him. “Julia and Law ain’t with the Corp anymore, though. Even Julia was around when the Banishin’ Flats exploded last night. Y’all saw the girl in a pink rasslin’ mask followin’ me and Alex to the lobby? Yeah, that was her.” Then, a small nod, his expression pensive. “So, yeah, I don’t think we should worry about her. Neither should we worry about Law. I know that guy. He’s just a goofball runnin’ a Chinese restaurant back at the mid tier. He left the Corp just as fast as he joined ’em from what I remember.” He shrugged, an open hand lifted along.

”They’re still listed under ‘associates and accomplices’ though, so looks like the kings don’t care about them bailing” Jr replied, showing the fighter the list he’d found online, before shrugging and saying ”good luck to em I guess, coz someone’s bound go after them as a result of that”

“Huh??” Eyebrow arching, Terry looked at the list of names showing on the screen with a puzzled face, scratching his golden temple. “Weird… I swear my girlfriend talked about it when we went to investigate something a long time ago. Looks like the Corp hasn’t updated the list since, like, forever, huh?” Then, an idea came to mind, an imaginary bulb popping and flashing close to his equally auric temple. “Oh, wait, I know! Given that some of their champs are still competing—and assuming that Kaz and several others are still hiding in the base—how about we split up?” Terry suggested, his free hand gesturing forth. “So some of us are gonna have to raid the base, while others still occupied with their tourneys are gonna have to keep an eye on their champs. Think some of us can distract guys like Bryan and Sergei while they’re still within the Pools area. And honestly?” The comical blonde brought his wrist close to his gaze, looking at a non-existent watch. “Yeah, I think it’s gonna take a long while till the next KOF match comes around. I can accompany y’all to the base if we’re gonna do it now.” With a determined face, the King of Fighters glanced over Amaterasu then Cap, as if asking for their confirmation. “What about you two? You comin’ with us?”

Captain Falcon had been keeping silent til now. Raids weren’t exactly something he could condone unless it was in the interest of taking down a law-breaking criminal with a bounty on their head. But at the time same… he was still remembering getting thrown into a wall by the Jack-5 last night. And the explosion and casualties that that event caused. Someone definitely needed to face justice for that.

”Count me in.” He confirmed, ”I don’t normally go after someone unless there’s a bounty involved, but for these guys? I’ll make an exception.”

By his side Amaterasu gave a bark of agreement as well. There was no way she was going to let these people get away with what they’d done, and she had to make up for not being there when the attack went down.

On Terry's right, Primrose considered the idea of splitting up. It wasn't a bad suggestion all things considered, but maybe the muscled man had the best suited roles for everyone backward. Then again, he was perhaps the most knowledgeable about Esaka's customs around. Even so she asked, "would interfering with the matches get you disqualified? It may be wise to leave the G-Corp members competing to those of us who aren't."

She could easily assume that any kind of interference to the bracket that didn't involve getting beaten in an official tournament match -assassination, sabotage, or even simple distraction or stalling- would have consequences if it was considered cheating... and with the Heavenly Principles as proliferated through the area as they were she didn't think much would escape their notice. Even now they probably could hear everything the Seekers were saying, but since it was a hit that the city's leadership had ordered themselves it was unlikely that they were the only group discussing such things.

“Okay, good question, Rosey,” Terry said with one of his fingers pointing at the dancer, wondering if he got her name right.

"Primrose," she corrected, polite but firm.

“Oh, right, ‘Primrose.’ But I don’t say we should interfere in their fights nor do I encourage that. This is a legit fighting tourney we’re talking about, after all, not some… corny wrestling matches. I feel like it’s best we leave Bryan, Sergei, and whoever the Corp sent to the Tekken tourney to the Seekers competing in the same tourney because… they’ll probably see each other a lot more frequently don’t you think? And it’s not to bring up the possibility of them going one-on-one with some of Kazzy’s guys along the way. But… if you guys would like to take care of these warmongerin’ chumps…” He paused thoughtfully, then shrugged. “Then, I guess why not? You can definitely do that backstage. I’d say, you beat ’em up and interrogate ’em. Because who knows, maybe that’d make them talk about what really went on at the Flats last night.”

Terry could feel his blood boiling while reminiscing about the Banishing Flats incident. A part of him still wished that he could’ve saved everyone trapped within the building that night, but he was also aware that nothing would’ve ever brought the demised back, no matter how hard he insisted. The only option now was to avenge the death, which was why he sort of entertained the notion of besieging the very headquarters those murderous cowards had as a hideout. It wasn’t like he had any other choices, either. And as far as backstage assaults were concerned, he knew that brawls could’ve occasionally occurred outside of the tournaments, especially involving bitter rivals. If anything, he was one of those unfortunate fighters pulled into a mini scuffle with a reigning KOF champion two nights ago.

On the blonde's left, Therion reminded them of the actual goal.

"Their leader's the only one we actually need to worry about. We can leave the rest to that Mishima thing - it's Kazuya's that gets us an in with the Principles." And possibly Consul B by extension. The thief tightened his grip slightly on his folded arms. "If just one of us can get to him, land a hit, and get out, he'll have to follow to finish the fight. So we don't need to gear up for a whole building wide raid, that's too much effort for too little payout."

”I mean,we would be able to steal everything they have without worrying about the big robot cops complaining about it” Rika pointed out, guessing that they ”Probubly have a whole pile of zenny in there that’s just free for the taking once we deal with em”

That wasn't quite the payout Therion meant, but he played along with a counterpoint. "I doubt it. Doesn't matter if it's a business or one rich man, either way their piles of money aren't normally in the form of leaves... or zenny, in this case. It's gonna be in valuables or merchandise. Then you'll have to haul it out and find a buyer afterward, and that's if the city's head honchos don't confiscate it."

He couldn't imagine that they'd find many buyers for exploding robot warriors or experimental cyborg animals save for whoever G-Corp was already selling to. Although maybe if there were some advanced pieces of technology in there, one of the Seekers or Lost Numbers could make use of it.

With a half-shrug the thief added, "unless you're looking to turn to a career of banditry, I still say it makes more sense to go right for the target, and anything else that happens to get picked up is a bonus."

”Aww”

”I’m in the Tekken line, so I could scout them if I run into them as I fight through the tournaments. Tekken’s longer matches have been a bit… Well it makes it so I can win at least.” Roland said. ”Or… well… You guys know who I am, but this mask works against even Beholders from my world, the all seeing eyes of the Head. I could always ambush them after I fight them and I’m still energized…” Roland said, alluding to a plan of assassination. ”Assuming I win inside the match itself.”

As for the plan of taking the stuff of G corp for themselves, Roland shrugged. ”Between Tora, Susie, and I’m sure some of the Lost Numbers, they could make good use of that technology. So taking their stuff after the fact sounds like it’d be helpful.”

”Yeah see!”

“Err…”

Terry’s expression shifted into a hesitant grimace. There was a reason why he argued with Nadia about her stealing from Kazuya, after all. While he entertained the notion of giving some evil-doers cans of ass-whooping (even if it meant breaching through their shared hideout), he was never used to committing conventional crimes like claiming something that wasn’t meant to be his (regardless of the individual he stole from). Not that he wanted to come across as being self-righteous because, frankly, it had more to do with what he stood for and how his father raised him—the lessons he still kept dearly in his heart even as an adult. Hopefully, he didn’t come across as being a hypocrite, either, considering what he’d agreed to do with his fellow Seekers.

“Jeez, dude, I don’t think I like the sound of that,” Terry admitted, scrunching his nose. “Sorry, you guys. Don’t mean to be a party pooper here, but like the cat boy here said, I thought we were supposed to focus on that devil scum and his stooges, right? That’s our main goal, ain’t it? ’Cause really, if I were y’all, I’d rather just… tear those clankers into pieces. Make ’em all go bang somewhere far from anybody’s reach, so they can’t hurt anyone anymore. But that’s just me, though.” He managed a faint grin, almost snickering.

Therion couldn't help but roll his eyes both at being referred to as 'cat boy' and Terry's continued reluctance for theft. If the situation were different then sure, he wouldn't normally blame the guy, but this was a rich homicidal maniac they were talking about, one that had already gone after the group. Of course since Terry was technically agreeing with him, Therion bit his tongue from actually saying anything. Primrose though gave the South Town Hero a nod. "A fine idea. Any that aren't repurposed should be destroyed."

Then the brief, soft crackle of the linkpearls connecting filtered into the heroes' ears. It preceded the voice of one of the Seekers' newest members: "Hey, Yayama here. I've been approached by a man saying he represents the United Nations. They want to include us in some movement against G-corp, and might be sympathetic to our overall goals here. Their rep seems trustworthy enough; anyone open for lunch today?"

Band’s eyebrows went up as he heard the news. “Well, how about that,” he remarked, his comment not picked up by Yayama since his own linkpearl was in its default ‘receiving’ mode at the moment. “If there’s some kind o’ local faction against G-Corp, or better yet the Four Kings, we could use whatever tips they got to offer.” He glanced up toward the High Tier. “We ain’t dealin’ with some two-bit small-timer, after all. If this company’s as rich and powerful as it seems, and bold enough to bomb residential buildin’s in the night, it ain’t gonna be as easy as waltzin’ into their HQ and blowin’ up everythin’ we see.” He nodded at the others. “I say we go an’ see what these United Nations are all about.”

Jr, Rika, and Amaterasu were all onboard, that was for three. Local knowledge could only help.

"Bit lofty to call themselves the united nations," Therion muttered, lacking the context of the group's original namesake. But he couldn't help but be curious all the same, giving Big Band a quick nod. "Might as well."

"Let me know if anything comes of it," Primrose said, quickly making it clear that she did not plan to attend this luncheon. "I have other plans."

”I had plans of dealing with them, but seeing what this informants got can’t hurt. You don’t send exploding robots at a fixer and his buddies and get away with it.” Roland said.

“The UN, huh?” Terry asked with an arching eyebrow, showing a knowing yet cautious look. “Well, that’s something… Y’know, I know some of the guys related to them around here. Ever heard of Sol Badguy? The Guilty Gear Dojo’s undisputed champ? Yeah, I heard he used to make weapons for them, apparently. Now, I dunno if he’s still affiliated with the UN, but assuming he is the rep that Yaya was talking about, it’s safe to say she met just the right guy.” He readjusted the duffle bag loading his shoulder, his resolve steeled. He smiled and nodded. “So, yeah, I’m still coming with you guys, either way. Then, maybe I can talk about the Guilty Gear guys a bit, while we head there.” While he already had lunch with his teammates a while back, he didn’t mind having another one since the last bout left him hungry rather quickly.

While they chatted in person, it somewhat left the team members not here out of the loop.

One of these was Kim, who had been in the hospital for a bit, trying to recover from his wounds. The doctors at Esaka were working hard to make sure the detective was not bleeding to death. They were successful in stopping the bleeding and had dressed his wounds correctly. And Kim was glad to have a break from being a part of the tournament. However, he still felt the nagging feeling that he could still do more. As he was recovering, he was coming up with a plan to escape the hospital. With everything thought out, he executed his plan. Escaping through the side door of the hospital, wearing a wide range of mismatching clothes. ” This is Kim Kitsuragi, I am leaving the hospital. Where are we all meeting?” Kim's voice was heard through the linkpearl.

”We’re at… well we’re going to that UN place I guess now so meet us there?” Rika replied on behalf of the meeting she’d set up, before also relaying the result of that decision to the lady who’d possessed the question ” Also yeah, Yayama, we’re gonna move this meeting to you n them”

”Oh. and can you ask them what’s for lunch?”

FIN.

It took a little while for Nadia to retrace her steps to the World Warrior portion of the Pools, especially with Shina and Beowulf tagging along. From what little she’d seen so far of the tournaments’ qualifying rounds, the majority of opponents tended not to speak much to one another either before or after the fight, often offering one another little more than a curt ‘good fight’ once the duel concluded one way or another. People who traded banter beforehand or discussed the match afterward were in the minority. And even though Nadia herself was on the more talkative side, she thought it made sense. With a lot on the line, especially in Mortal Kombat, tensions ran high and tempers could flare easily. If good sportsmanship predominated, it was less out of the kindness of fighters’ hearts and more out of fear of the Heavenly Principles, always watching and waiting for any injunction.

Beowulf and Shina, however, were exceptions to that rule. Even after their clash ended with a ring-out every single round (and such cheap wins often sparked anger) they laughed off their bruises, complimented one anothers’ techniques, and poked fun at each others’ patterns. With such outgoing, larger-than-life personalities, the wrestler and the mercenary were two peas in a pod. With people like that around, the extroverted Ms Fortune couldn’t help but laugh and joke along. By the time they finally reached the World Warriors matches, it was almost lunch time.

With three sets of eyes, at least, it took less time to find the other NMO members again. It was Beowulf that spotted Annie’s distinctive mint-green hair through the crowd, and when he led the way over across an arched stone bridge, the two found her and Filia together at a gazebo-like rest area. Even Robo-fortune happened to be there, standing off to the side with her arms crossed as she scoped out the competition. “Hey!” Nadia waved enthusiastically as she trotted over, getting the girls’ attention. “Wanna get lunch?”

“That sounds great!” Filia perked up right away and practically leaped to her feet, her ruby-red eyes sparkling. “I’m famished!”

The parasite in the back of her agreed in his typical gruff manner. “You can say that again.”

Nadia wondered if Filia and Samson shared the same stomach. They had to, right? But did that mean Filia had a second throat through the back of her head…? Well, whatever. It wasn’t like her whole deal made any more sense. Parasites were probably just magic, too.

Annie, meanwhile, had taken a second to consult the gazebo’s bulletin board, which fortunately nobody else was using at the moment. “Yeah, looks like we’ve got time.’ She picked up her stuffed rabbit, Sagan, by one ear and slung him over her shoulder like a backpack. The eye inside his mouth, which looked just like Annie’s sole remaining eye, visibly shifted to stare at Nadia. The feral gave him the I’m-watching-you gesture, and Annie glanced over her shoulder to see what Nadia was pointing at. “Not that much time, though. Let’s get a move on.”

“Where to?” Filia asked, eager to get going.

Beowulf shrugged. “Fortune and I figured we’d head up to the Middle Tier and wing it.”

“Shocker,” Annie mumbled.

The five set off, headed for the southwestern elevator. Robo followed along behind them, clearly interested in neither speaking nor eating with the others. As they walked, the first subject on everyone’s mind was how everyone was doing in their brackets so far. “So,” Filia started, pulling up beside Beowulf and Shina. “How’s Tekken going for you so far, Beo?”

“So far, so good!” The wrestler reported with a grin and a thumbs-up. “Three-one against this goober named ‘Terrific Forelock’ in round one, and three-two against Shina here in round two! Slaaaaam dunk!”

The mercenary shrugged, chuckling. “Oh, please. It was down to the wire. Could’ve gone the other way just as easily. If I get the runback in Losers, you’d better get that ass ready for a whooping!”

That hardly seemed to intimidate Beowulf–in fact, he seemed more excited than anything. “Haha, we can run it back any time you want lady, day or night!”

“Hah. Don’t tempt me,” Shina replied.

Walking alongside Annie, Nadia raised an eyebrow at her. Are they flirting? she mouthed.

Annie just pursed her lips, wincing. “Uh, moving on…I did win my second match, too. My opponent was a boxer named Wei. He was no slouch, I’ll give him that. Actually had to get a little serious.” She shrugged. “Definitely not a low seed. Bet he’ll tear things up in Losers.”

“Oh, I won my first Losers match!” Filia reported happily. “They put me up against this huge, buff old giant named Raizo. He looked scary, but he turned out to be pretty nice.” She crossed her arms, unable to hide her smug smile. “And pretty slow!”

Samson snickered. “We ran circles around him. Couldn’t deal with our air game.”

Laughing, Beowulf reached his brawny, hairy arms out to clap a hand on both Nadia and Annie’s shoulders. “Hah! Sounds like NMO is killin’ it so far! We might be on the up and up!”

With a huff, Annie brushed his hand off. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, has-been. We’ve all got a long road ahead of us.”

The road to the Middle Tier, at least, was relatively short. Once they reached the elevator they waited around for it to arrive, long enough for Robo-fortune to catch up, and a minute later they boarded the lift together. In no time at all they reached the middle tier, but without enough time to sit down at a real restaurant, the five decided to follow a time-honored tournament tradition and grab some street food instead. They found a plaza where a number of food trucks had congregated around a couple dozen round tables, each endowed with a colorful table cloth and umbrella. Right now, with it being lunchtime at all, the place was full of other fighters who’d had the same idea, but the five found an open table and planted Robo-fortune there to claim it. They then settled on Burrito OS, a Mexican food truck offering burritos, tacos, chimichangas, and so on, and returned to their table laden with food after a few minutes in line. The food and vibes were both great, especially since Nadia offered to pay for everyone out of her ill-gotten gains.

After crunching through her chimichanga, Nadia licked her fingers. “Purr-etty good. Coulda been way spicier, though.”

Beowulf looked at her like she was crazy. “You serious? I thought it was kind of spicy already…”

“‘Fur’ real?” Nadia snickered at him. _”Pussy.”

The wrestler gave her a heartbroken look, which he promptly turned on Shina once the mercenary started chuckling too. “Aw, c’mon. No wonder you ladies like it hot, your hearts are ice-cold!”

“Oh, Shina!” Nadia got her fellow blonde’s attention. “I can turn into a tiger too, you know! Well, a little.”

Shina crossed her arms. “Hey, I’m a leopard, not a tiger. What d’you mean by ‘a little’? Like, a little tiger? Sounds cute.”

“Nono, I mean a paw-tial transformation,” Nadia explained as she raised one arm to flex. “Check meowt~” Using the Fluffy Soft power gained from her Super Anthromorph fusion, Nadia morphed her arm into that of a white tiger, with pale fur, black stripes, and huge curved claws.

“Cool!” Filia cooed through a mouthful of burrito. As she chewed and swallowed, she tossed the rest of the burrito into the air. Samson lashed out a lock of raven-black hair like a tentacle, caught it, and stuffed it in his fanged maw. Then Filia began to unwrap her third burrito. “By the way, Ms Fortune, Samson asked you a question earlier, but it was too grumbly for you to hear.” Her parasite paused mid-chew. “He asked, what’s with all the puns?” Filia did her best impression of her partner’s deep, growly voice, then bit into her burrito.

Samson swallowed. “That was rhetorical,” he grumbled under his breath.

The feral batted her eyelashes at him, pouting. “Aw, you don’t like ‘em? You’re gonna hurt my felines…”

“Bah, that’s a stretch,” Shina criticized jovially before turning her attention to Filia. “You can sure pack it away, huh kid?”

Filia’s eyes went wide as she froze, her face reddening, then swallowed. “W-well, I’m a growing girl, hehe.” She pointed at the back of her head. “Samson says I have to eat a lot if I want to build muscle!”

“Oh? But this doesn’t look like muscle to me!” With a grin Shina poked Filia, who squeaked. “If you want abs like mine, you’ve got to work out every day! Sit-ups, crunches, lateral raises!”

Fila groaned and reached for her fourth burrito. “But working out is haaaard…”

“It can be fun, though!” Beowulf insisted, looking at Shina. “Right? I bet with Shina’s help, I could finally make a regimen you’ll actually wanna do, Filia!”

“Yeah!” Shina pumped her fist.

Filia blanched. “Oh gosh, now there are two of you meatheads after me?” She hid behind Annie for protection. “Save me, Annie!”

“Save yourself,” the Girl of the Stars muttered as Samson took advantage of the distraction to delicately prize the last burrito from his host’s grasp.

The group continued to bicker and joke until the conversation turned back toward the tournament. This time, Nadia actually did consult the bulletin board beforehand. “Next up, me and Robo are fightin’ two gals named Maya and Mira.”

“From the Killer Instinct dojo,” Annie informed her. “Sisters. They’re no pushovers, actually. You two better bring your A-game.”

Nadia laughed halfheartedly. “Right, haha. Maybe we oughta…well, practice or somethin’...”

“What about me?” Beowulf asked. “I’m up against Mitsurugi.”

The Girl of the Stars nodded sagaciously. “A samurai who wields the Shishi-oh. From the Soul Calibur dojo. Their top fighters used to be stars on par with King of Fighters or Tekken, but nowadays they’ve fallen off, leaving them firmly in the Middle Tier. Still, Mitsurugi is a mainstay of the dojo, and not a foe to take lightly.”

Nodding, Beowulf looked impressed. “A samurai,” he repeated, the word unfamiliar on his tongue. “Wow, you really do know everything. How old are you, really?”

“That’s none of your fffffffudging business,” Annie replied matter-of-factly, failing to utter her desired swear word.

A moment later Shina got to her feet, stretching her strong arms. “Well, that was a good meal. Thanks for having me along. Gotta bounce, though. Ten minutes ‘til my next match.”

Realizing what time it was, Nadia jumped up. “Holy crap, I better get goin’. The Mortal Kombat pools are farther away. Better cut across the Middle Tier to make it in time.”

“Good luck!” Filia told her. Beowulf, who had been crunching through a honeyed sopapilla as he stood to go after Shina, just waved.

As Shina jogged away, the feral took off, sprinting the opposite direction. Robo-fortune fell in behind her as they headed north, her metal frame clanking with each hurried step. Sisters from the Killer Instinct dojo, eh? It sounded like Nadia would have a real fight on her hands. Hopefully she wouldn’t be late.

---

True to Anji’s description, the Wine-cup Hold did resemble a castle, a picturesque, almost fairytale specimen of Renaissance French architecture, with spotless white plaster along its stone brick walls and rounded towers covered with exuberant ornamentation, their roofs full of lucarne windows. Of course, as a winery and not a fortified palace, many of the Wine-cup Hold’s features were purely decorative, and so much smaller than their real-life counterparts that they couldn’t practically be used. Still, the functional portcullis that permitted entry into the winery’s lavish walled yard was rather charming, and the wrought iron tables and chairs in that outdoor seating area were as elegant as the flourishing rose bushes.

By the time they reached the castle’s gates, there were so many Seekers along for the ride that Band couldn’t help but feel like the vanguard of an invading army. The one omission that surprised him was Zenkichi, who he would have definitely expected to be here. Yayama had beaten the rest of her new allies here, but aside from here there weren’t many people present in the sunny, aromatic courtyard. A bespectacled dancer in stylish Japanese attire stood in the shade of a young hawthorn tree with gray bark and red berries, keeping his muscular chest cool with the help of a large, patterned fan. This was Anji Mito, whose name Yayama had offered her compatriots along with that of their destination in a follow-up call. In a corner stood two black women who stopped chatting to watch the Seekers as they arrived. One, with thick white braids, geometric tattoos, and black clothes, wore gold jewelry and glasses that gave her the look of a fashionista. The other, who sported thin purple dreads, favored white cloth with red and green accents, blue beads, and leather belts. She also leaned on a giant sawtoothed cleaver, as easily as someone might lean on a cane.

Finally, there was an old gentleman with white hair, goatee, and sunglasses, wearing an exceptionally fine off-white suit that featured a purple tie. He was the only one seated at a table, with one leg crossed over the other and a wine glass a quarter full of deep red merlot in arm’s reach. Also on the table lay what looked like a high-tech scabbard with glowing purple lights built into the case, the black handle of a discreetly curved swordblade protruding from one end.

“Ah, there you are,” Anji addressed the Seekers with a smile before gesturing to the empty tables. “Welcome to Wine-cup Hold. Please, seat yourselves and relax. We’ve rented the place out for the hour, so nobody will disturb us. The staff will be out shortly to take your orders.” He extended an arm toward the seated man. “It is my pleasure to introduce to you the provisional head of the United Nations, Mr. Victor Chevalier.”

Chevalier nodded his head. “The pleasure is mine,” he began, speaking in perfect French. Somehow, everyone understood him anyway, and not just Yayama whose Echo nullified all language barriers. “Allow me to be brief and get business out of the way up front, so that we may enjoy our meal and afternoon. I am indeed the leader of the United Nations, although we are hardly a coalition of nations with entire populations and economies at our backs. In Esaka, we are merely a group of like-minded fighters from the many different countries of Earth.”

“I, naturally, represent France.” Chevalier glanced toward Anji, who bowed. “This is Mr. Anji Mito, representative of Japan. And over in the corner there, those beautiful ladies are Dolores and Darli, representatives of Mali and Madagascar, respectively.” Dolores, standing with her arms crossed, merely adjusted her glasses, while Darli gave a confident wave. Big Band’s eyes rested longer on Dolores than perhaps they should have, and when he realized he looked away.

Chevalier continued. “Our goal as an organization is simple: to overthrow the Four Kings’ tyrannical rule and establish a democratic government. This is easier said than done, of course, given our limited numbers and resources. What we do have, however, is knowledge. About Esaka, and the people in it.” He took a sip from his glass, composed and classy. “For instance, we know what has become of the ambitious few who’ve attempted to raid the G-Corp HQ so far. It seems they have more Jack units than the ones they used last night.”

He leaned forward, clasping his hands together. “Their numbers are not infinite, however, and they’re already moving to replenish their ranks. A new shipment is already on its way from G-Corp’s main production plant in the Tangled Shore.” He pursed his lips, frowning. “If we are to work together to destroy G-Corp, our first goal is to weaken G-corp and force its higher-ups to take action. As such, rather than fall for the obvious trap that is storming the building, my plan is this. Split into three teams. Team A shall leave the city to target the incoming Jack shipment and destroy them all in one fell swoop. Meanwhile, Teams B and C shall target known G-Corp accomplices in Esaka itself. Azucena Ortiz, coffee magnate, and Lucky Chloe, pop star. Both are sponsored by G-Corp in an effort to improve its public image. Targeting them will make it clear that any alliance with G-Corp is a death sentence, and only the diehard loyalists will remain.”

Chevalier leaned back in his chair and reached for his wineglass again, waving his other hand in a nonchalant manner. “Then, once Kazuya and his elite are isolated, without friends or reinforcements, we can flush them out and hunt them down. Normally the Heavenly Principles or Four Kings might get involved, but not this time. With your numbers to back up my agents, this should be un jeu d’enfant.” Like taking candy from a baby.

Band, unable to seat himself at any wrought-iron table, had stood while listening to Chevalier. This place was awfully classy for the Middle Tier, and in such esteemed and expensively-dressed company, he felt even worse about his shredded hat and trench coat. He found himself unable to object to Chevalier’s plan. Part of him worried about some kind of set-up, of course, since this seemed at least a little too good to be true, but for now the Seekers had no better lead on how to go about their mission of reprisal against G-Corp. It sounded like storming G-Corp’s HQ was about as dangerous and fruitless an endeavor as he worried it’d be, as well. Nobody with a brain would leave their most important assets out in the open where anyone could just walk in off the street and seize them, after all.

Of course, this decision rested with everyone else, and not just because he wasn’t Gold Team’s leader. The World Warrior tournament would keep Big Band occupied for the foreseeable future, though he’d be able to join the Seekers’ campaign against G-Corp if he did get eliminated. With that in mind, for now the detective was mostly an observer, and interested in hearing what the others had to say as he further considered the United Nations and their proposal.



The more Heismay saw of the ruined village as the stagecoach rattle through its snowy streets, the more the desolate place intrigued him. From the buildings to the fences to the headstones in the graveyard on the hill, everything in this place seemed warped or twisted, not in a grotesque way, but in a fascinatingly inorganic fashion nonetheless. He couldn’t help but wonder why the builders and craftsmen of this burnt-out town would purposefully give this place such a crooked, haunted aspect, as if each decrepit structure and macabre decoration had been fastidiously fashioned from clay by giant, dextrous hands. His gaze rested longest on the giant metal kiln. Maybe it had blazed tall and proud against the cold winter nights long ago, but now the hollow hulk was every bit as dead and cold as the shallow graves in the cemetery, a solitary and forlorn sentinel over the old and withered memories that filled this place like ghosts.

In terms of actual specters, however, Heismay could see none. Only odd, ethereal links wound around that metal furnace, like a coffin chained shut so that its contents would never again see the light of day.

Thanks to the persistent low roar of the wind into which the stagecoach pushed onward, Heismay saw the rabbits before he heard them, even through the Highlands’ perennial gloom. Noticing the ordinary rabbits with white winter coats reminded him of Sandalphon’s request to stock up on food supplies, but the sight of the much larger, burlier, humanoid rabbits gave him pause. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine that the small ones might in truth be the young of the bunnymen, or at least dear to them in some way. If that was the case, whatever gamey nuggets of meat the Seekers might be able to pry from the rabbits might not be worth the wrath of the tribesmen, and in these conditions even Heismay’s keen senses couldn’t definitively suss out their numbers.

When Tenna and his Shadowguys began to weave dry yellow plant fibers into traps, however, Heismay couldn’t help but be impressed with their craftsmanship. Ramattra could only help so much with one arm, but his sharp tactical mind did allow him to place the completed traps in the most effective spots, baited with berries to draw the little creatures in. It was a lot of effort, put forth by inorganic beings who couldn’t even enjoy the fruits of their labor, which struck Heismay as rather touching. He didn’t have the heart to tell them that their efforts wouldn’t be worth it, though he did caution the machines against arousing the wrath of the bunnymen. “If you catch any, make sure those big ones don’t see. They may not take kindly to their brethren’s capture.” To their credit, Tenna’s plan actually seemed to work: by the time the stagecoach left Coalhaven, four wriggling animals were in the trappers’ grasp. It would be hard work to prepare them for the stewpot, but easy enough to snap their little necks and put an end to their unpleasant shrieking.

As they went about their business, Heismay’s attention turned to something else. Since he and the others arrived in the Highlands, the dense cloud cover over the region completely masked both stars and sky, day in and day out. Over Coalhaven, however, the eugief observed a curious phenomenon. Stars hung in the frosty air overhead, much lower and smaller than they ought to be. When the stagecoach drew near one, Heismay stood and narrowed his eyes for a closer look. Though it glowed like a lantern, the star appeared to be made of crumpled paper, about as big as he was, and -most interestingly- hung on a string that seemed to extend all the way up to the clouds. After staring for a moment in puzzlement, Heismay reached out his claws to touch it. Then he paused, imagining a baited hook on the end of a celestial fishing line, and sat back down to watch the dangling star pass by.

In the stagecoach beneath him, Sandalphon had been focused on more internal affairs. Since leaving the winter lodge she had the vehicle’s interior mostly to herself, and she used the opportunity to make some calls. At this point she’d decided on enough details that she could begin to put stage two of plan into action, which involved phoning some contacts both among the Midgar refugees and aboard the Avenger, the latter of which she called first and spent most of her time on. Very focused on this task, she paused only to assist Edward with his ovis spirits when he came calling, and to make a quick request once they finished. “I would ask that we install the window either in the rear door or in the front, at the driver’s back,” she suggested. “Otherwise, it will not be symmetrical.” The archangel didn’t obsess over symmetry, but all organized minds -human or otherwise- naturally and unwittingly liked it, so why not?

While Sandalphon kept to herself, her manner did not suggest confidentially, so if someone managed to surreptitiously listen in they might overhear her going over some sort of specialized machine prototype, including necessary components and capabilities, mostly highly technical details that would be nigh-meaningless to someone not in the know. The voice on the other end of her sigil was male, but high and reedy, with a rather squeaky British accent and a strange, cutesy dialect which made ready enough use of the third person to make identifying the speaker easy. It was Tora, the young Nopon inventor who could typically be found in the Avenger’s Proving Grounds, and despite his selfish tendencies he seemed extremely interested in Sandalphon’s project. After assuring her that he could source enough ‘goddesium’ to meet her demands, Tora bid her farewell and Sandalphon ended the call.

In short order, the Seekers bid Coalhaven farewell. The boost pads and jumps ahead of them on the Polar Pass raceway presented a daunting challenge, but Edward prepared the coach and its pullers as best he could. When the expedition finally got underway, the track turned out to be much less of a problem than it seemed. When approached the right way, the boost pads took care of most of the physics themselves, allowing the whole kit and kaboodle to sail through the air and then come down without crashing, crumpling, or tangling. Those parts of the track were exhilarating, but ultimately not that common. For the most part, the road merely wound around the ice-cold pools and icebergs of the Polar Pass, and with no other drivers around to hog the track, Edward could afford to take his time.

As it turned out, the environment around the raceway seemed to be a popular spot for a specific type of arctic wildlife: seals. With no polar bears or killer whales in sight to hunt them, and plenty of fish in the water, a variety of seals splashed around in the water or lounged around on the icy riverside, often collecting into big, blubbery piles for warmth. There were energetic Catapult Seals with tails strong enough to launch troublemakers several stories high, adorable blubberbeast families, regular old gray seals, and of course, perfectly spherical spheals. Unilaterally lazy and friendly, they posed no threat to the Seekers as they drove past, and Heismay enjoyed watching them a great deal.

The team’s trip through Polar Pass would not last long, though. After a couple slippery swerves and heart-pounding jumps, they followed the Midnight Walk as it diverged from the raceway. It led through an unremarkable, relatively barren stretch of land before bringing the expedition to what looked like a mining facility, overlooking a coniferous valley to the south.



Like the ruined village and the icy raceway before it, the plant seemed to be long abandoned. Thick blankets of snow coated the ground and the roofs, while huge icicles -several feet long in some cases- hung from the eaves, occasionally blocking doorways. What few mine tracks weren’t buried beneath the snow had long since been warped by exposure to the cold, and it would take great strength to push shrieking, rusty minecarts along them, if they could be moved at all. There was no telling how long it had been since the aerial tramway had last hauled away material for processing, but thorough Seekers -or ones with a keen sense for minerals- might still be able to find useful minerals or tools left behind by the prospectors and miners of old.

Looking at the frozen-over buildings as the stagecoach approached, Heismay got a bad feeling about the place. It would be one thing if the mine had simply become unprofitable and neglected, but the frosty corpse dangling from one of the cranes told another story. The winds that howled through the wood support towers and metal struts quickly took on a sinister timbre. “Let’s watch our backs around here,” he advised the team. “Tis an ill-omened place, and I do not like what I’m hearing.” Though the low light made it hard to tell exactly, the above-ground facility didn’t look too big, so it’d take only a few minutes for the stagecoach to get in and out unless some obstacle barred the way. But there was no telling how far its subterranean portion went, nor what might be lurking in the ice-cold darkness.

Any Seekers that did leave the stagecoach behind to prowl around inside the derelict buildings would not go unchallenged for long, for the mine was not quite as abandoned as it looked. In the darkness shuffled hideous frostbitten shapes, no two exactly alike. At some point they had perhaps been people, excessively bundled up as if to resist some ungodly cold, but with slate-blue faces frozen in expressions of terror and pain, icicles growing from their skin, and additional limbs either contorted in desperate attempts to huddle up or reach out for warmth, these things weren’t human anymore. The monsters came clad in balaclava, earmuffs, trapper hats, ski hats, scarves, and beanies, each resistant to all types of physical damage, but vulnerable to fire. If any prospective heroes delved a truly foolish distance into the facility, they might even encounter the monstrous Pompom, a hulking amalgamate with impressive strength and freezing power. Only one ray of hope could be found in the whole mine: an isolated camp site set up in the tramway control room, where a frostbitten monster in a fur coat might offer explorers a mug of hot cocoa.

@Lugubrious

Harry Dubois

𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝒦𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾

Word Count: 433
Level: Lv: 6 EXP: (3/60)
Lv: 4 EXP: (5/40)
Location: Esaka’s Middle Tier - Pool Arena Round 1

Harry didn’t have much time to recover from his last match as the next one started. Dr.Faust was working quickly to bandage and care for Harry’s wounds. Slowly, he stumbled towards the arena. He was given a bunch of water and electrolytes from Faust to help sober him up. But Harry had more alcohol on him in case he needed it. His next opponent was Axel Hawk, a fearsome boxer from Southtown. He was sure Terry had encountered this guy before. In fact, he was sure he had overheard Terry or someone else mention how the lone wolf beat the snot out of the boxer.

Hawk didn’t give Harry any sort of acknowledgment. Not that the detective cared, he just wanted to win this match so he could be one step closer to beating Bison. Both men were standing still in the middle of the ring. A signal was given letting them know to begin the first round. Axel quickly hopped towards Harry, throwing a hard punch at Harry’s torso. Harry felt the air leave his lungs from the punch. His body was hunched forward as Axel threw another punch. This time, it was coming towards the detective’s head. But luckily, Harry dodged the punch and kicked Axel in the balls. Axel reeled backwards with Harry following up by performing a
stunner on Axel.

A move that didn’t seem to affect Axel much. The boxer quickly got back onto his feet. Landing a hard punch to Harry’s head. The sound of his fist hitting Harry’s head was quite hard. It was almost cringeworthy with how badly Harry was getting beaten. Each of Axel’s punches was causing significant damage to the detective. Harry couldn’t do much to protect himself, but held up his arms to try and block the shots.

Harry tried countering Axel’s punches by dodging out of the way of his attacks. Dodging one of his punches and giving Axel another brutal kick. This time, his attack made contact with the boxer’s side. This seemed to stun the boxer momentarily. Harry followed up with another kick to Axel’s head. This time, it seemed to make Axel stagger. He was starting to falter as Harry was now pummeling his face with a flurry of punches. Harry thought he was doing some damage to the boxer, but Axel seemed to recover quickly. Caught Harry by surprise by suckerpunching Harry in the face. The punch was hard enough to break Harry’s nose and sent him flying backwards. Axel was declared the winner of the first round. Something that made Axel raise his arms in victory.

---

“So yeah, that’s how Sol and I met. Eventually, though, we became friends and rivals and all that. They said Sol could’ve been the next me, but really, I feel like he might just be a level ahead. He’s almost up there with Ryu, Jin, and… Kyo, I guess?”

At this point, Terry didn’t know exactly how long he’d been yapping about Sol and the other Guilty Gear guys he’d heard and known of, as he made his way to his next destination alongside the other Seekers. He was getting so carried away with the conversation he didn’t quite pay attention to his surroundings while he strolled. Thankfully, his astonishing reflexes had been preventing him from bumping across other pedestrians by accident. Aside from Sol and the Guilty Gear Dojo, Terry also took his time to introduce his ‘bestest friend in the world’ in front of his fellows.

“Oh, and by the way, I’m pretty sure I haven’t told this to you guys, other than Cap and Ammy,” Terry initiated, gestured at the ever-energetic monkey on his shoulder, then added: “Guys, this is Ukee. Ukee, say ‘hi’ to my new friends!”

Of course, Ukee couldn’t talk, let alone saying ‘hi.’ The best that the little monkey could do was screeching adorably and giving the other Seekers a big, friendly wave. The sight of Ukee going bananas was so amusing to look at that Terry began to cackle.

“Ha ha… Okay! Looks like my boy loves y’all, amirite, Ukee? Hm?”

Before Terry could receive a screech of approval from his bestest friend, his attention immediately drifted towards their supposed gathering spot. It was the Winecup Hold, a winery that was built and decorated almost like a palace. Just glancing around the winery’s exterior kind of reminded him of the Stroheim Castle where he defended his King of Fighters title against Krauser in his previous life.

As the portcullis slid open, revealing the Winecup Hold’s luxurious interior, the king of fighters quickly spotted a number of familiar faces upon striding in. Of course, Yayama was one of them since she was an early bird, but then came a few other Seekers not present in the prior rendezvous. He, too, could feel that something was odd when Zenkichi hadn’t been around since the prior rendezvous. It wasn’t like him to overlook a meeting as important as this, he thought, considering he was one of the most reliable and responsive figures within their inner circle. Hopefully, he was wrong, and that this was only another one of those bad hunches he’d been suffering from lately.

“Alright, so, what do we have here?”

Terry was—and always had been—quick to bottle up his feelings and put aside his concern, putting up the usual smiling facade just as fast. Still, he might need to bring up Zenkichi’s mysterious absence in front of the crew some time later.

With vigilant eyes, the king of fighters scanned his surroundings one more time, wanting to get a better look at the courtyard as well as all the UN representatives present to keep the Seekers company. So far, no signs of Sol showing up. Instead, there was only Anji from the Guilty Gear Dojo introducing himself and welcoming them to the winery. He could only guess that the Badguy was either no longer with the organization or that he never developed weapons for them to begin with. However, he knew at least half of their representatives since they were also fellow KOF contestants. When Darli gave the Seekers a big wave, Terry and the monkey on his shoulder were the first to return her wave with one of their own, their smiles spreading from ear to ear.

“Oh, hi!” he greeted before also glancing at Dolores who’d been toying with her glasses. “I didn’t know you ladies were here, too.”

Frankly, between both queens of fighters, the blonde bruiser might’ve been more familiar with Dolores than he was Darli. After all, they used to talk about raising their respective surrogate children some time after the fifteenth tournament, with the blonde taking a tip or two from the soil-bending shaman. In addition, she used to be affiliated with the Ikari Warriors (now Ikari Forces) at one point, which led Terry to assume that this entire organization—as grand as it sounded—wasn’t the same UN that he’d always known, but instead, another faction of the Heidern-led military forces.

“Alright, lemme guess… Did Commander Heidern send you guys here?” Terry asked (more towards Chevalier than he did the other representatives), gesturing forth with his free hand. “Man… I thought you Ikari Warriors already had K’ and his fellas to deal with stuff like this.” Then, a sarcastic giggle. Certainly, he couldn’t ever say no to aiding a peace-keeping organization in their cause, but he also realized that the chances of Ikari Forces requesting an average Joe like him to collaborate with them had always been so slim back then, especially when they tended to rely on other KOF guys more aligned with their goals. But he was a Seeker now, so surely, he might’ve attracted their attention already.

Chevalier almost imperceptibly raised an eyebrow at Terry, his expression stony. "No affiliation."

And just those two matter-of-factly words were enough to prove Terry’s theory wrong. “Ah… I believe you. Of course, you’re not one of them,” he said with a louder voice, snickered more genuinely, then shook his head. What Chevalier said made sense to him. “Oh, silly me! What are the chances of the Ikari Warriors contacting us, anyway? They already have their own units.”

As he took a seat on the iron chair and dropped his duffle bag close to his feet, Terry continued to pay attention to each and every word spoken out of the mouth of the French-speaking UN leader, surprisingly understanding everything that he said despite the language barrier. Ukee, too, had been listening to Chevalier attentively, curious eyes ahead and small hands playing with the red fabric of his human friend’s jacket. While the king of fighters found that the UN leader’s pitched plan might be more effective than their prior collective plan, he didn’t think he could wholly agree with the notion of turning Azucena and Chloe into their primary targets when the two of them only used their connections with the G-Corp to either promote a coffee brand or launch a career as an idol. He believed there were far more people within the company that they needed to worry about more, most notably the bloodthirsty rascals who were actually involved in all the heinous acts that the company had done over the years.

“Well, those are fine plans, Vic, but I don’t think we should just worry about those two, especially when you’re looking to strip Kaz of his support system. It’s right that we could use Azucena and Chloe to send a message to their boss, but I’m sure you also know that these girls barely—if not, never—have anything to do with their actual schemes. Because, from what I learned, they’re only there to use the Corp as a stepping stone to either launch a business or a career, and the saddest part is, they sold out and let themselves be manipulated to partake in the Corp’s sportswashin’ practice,” Terry remarked rather wistfully before adding: “I guess this is why many of us fancied the idea of attacking their base. It feels like we also need to target the actual peeps involved in the Corp’s nasty deeds, don’t you think? And we’re talking about literal psychos like Bryan, Sergei, the Williams sisters, and the researchers involved in both the human and animal experimentations. Don’t you feel like we gotta do something about them, too?”

There was a clear accentuation in his voice when Terry asked Chevalier so. He could feel his bright blue eyes glimmering with determination, as he recalled everything that he learned from both Mary many years ago and from the Koopalings this afternoon. It never sat right with him when Esaka’s resident evil-doers could get away with just about anything by abusing their wealth and fame. Once upon a time, he thought that he’d gone insane thinking that something was off about how the city was run, and now that he’d met the Seekers and eventually the UN, he was no longer alone. Or so, he thought? Even when he knew that half of the UN could be trusted, remaining vigilant was still a must, given that their offer sounded a little too good to be true.

"You make many assumptions, Bogard," Chevalier remarked, his hands calmly clasped in his lap. "Wouldn't it be nice if things were that easy, but alas. The 'base' you refer to is just an office building. The enemy is not so complacent or foolish as to have their top personnel and military secrets just sitting around within arm's reach, waiting for Esaka's fighters to stroll in. The few who have, driven by Heihachi's bounty, have met an explosive end." He narrowed his eyes. "In other words, that building is a trap. The targets you mentioned are either in tournament, and protected by the Heavenly Principles, or hidden elsewhere. To stop them, we must force them to reveal themselves." The gentleman shrugged. "But if seeing is believing for you, by all means."

Then, a pause. A moment of silence. Arms atop the table, Terry glanced down pensively, his determined blue eyes meeting the table’s metallic surface. Oftentimes, he could be seen curling and unfurling his fingers every few seconds, all while considering the words of advice given to him by Chevalier. Perhaps, there was some truth to what he said. Kazuya couldn’t have been that stupid nor was he reckless enough to let his office wide open for his foes to attack. The dastardly son of Heihachi Mishima was cold and calculating—part of the reason why he was feared by those beneath him. Though, also, given what Chevalier suggested, there might still be a possibility that they would aim at the murderous rascals he suggested they should look after in their efforts, and not just the Corp’s so-called mascots.

“Hmm… I see now. Alright. I guess I get now why you suggested we should go after Azucena and Chloe. Now that I think about it, we might as well use ’em to bait the other, more dangerous targets to leave their hiding spots. Once they fall for the bait, then we can beat ’em up and get rid of ’em, stripping Kaz of his champs altogether, is that it?” Terry confirmed before adding: “Just my two cents, but if those are the plans we agree to go by, I guess it’s even easier now to divide us into groups, don’t you think? The guys who didn’t sign up for a tourney can join Team A, while the rest—the guys who did sign up and are scheduled to compete in tourneys—can stay in Esaka and join either Team B or C. And since I’d already signed up for a tourney, then… you know my choice. I think I can keep an eye on Azucena. I know somebody who might know her.”

Staying in Esaka might’ve been the most logical option for him. After all, the king of fighters still had a tournament to attend with his partners. While he never cared about winning or losing, he felt that he needed this victory more than ever—not because he had to win a fourth championship, but because there were lives to be saved. He had to know what was hiding behind Rugal’s tower. He needed to make sure that his friends, brother, and surrogate son were all still in one piece. And while only a minor driving factor, he needed to prove his doubters wrong about him being just another Ken from Temu. That he was more than just a fool’s bet and a fallen star with a dwindling fanbase. That he wasn’t just second fiddle to Kyo, Iori, or any skinny edgelords attending the same competition whom the hardcore KOF viewers blindly endorsed as the ‘face of KOF.’

On top of that, Terry knew a few people within the city that he could rely on aside from his fellow Seekers. Richard, for one, might know a thing or two about Azucena since he was running a café business. Who knows if the two even partnered up, too? It wasn’t to mention that he had Mai and her Shiranui network to aid him in his investigation. If only Mary was here, too…

“So, whaddaya guys say?”

FIN.

If there was anything that Ryu loved the most next to fighting, that was eating. Coincidentally, he could already feel his stomach rumbling rather wildly after his second match against Tiger. He knew he hadn’t eaten anything since this morning, skipping breakfast just to go straight into the heart of battle. Considering the gap between his second and third round was a bit longer than usual, the street fighter decided to go to the nearest (and perhaps the most affordable) eatery he could find just below the Pools.

It just so happened that Pao Pao Café was situated only a few feet from the lift he’d taken, and so Ryu headed there, only to be greeted by the owners Richard and his protege Bob. He thought both men were quite hospitable, with Bob even went as far as declaring his desire to fight him if he ever managed to win the Losers Bracket of the World Warrior tournament. Ryu, on the other hand, didn’t really talk much and just smiled at both men, parting ways only after his roasted-garlic mayo egg teriyaki burger had been served and paid. On his way back to the lift, the street fighter gobbled the Japanese-styled burger with gusto, savoring its rich flavours. For some reason, even the paper wrap used to enfold the burger had his face on it, as if the menu was specifically made just for him.

However, before Ryu could truly walk further, somebody caught his attention. A familiar face, perhaps. As he halted on his shoeless feet, he stopped munching, craned his head, and squinted his eyes a little, his puffing cheeks hilariously stuffed with food. It didn’t take a while for him to recognize who the said familiar figure was: a fellow street fighter, seemingly heading in the same direction after guiding a violet-haired woman in a finely embroidered kimono to Quick Rise. He took a moment to approach her, his bare strides drawing closer towards the female street fighter.

“Sakura?” he questioned the tomboyish girl in a baggy yellow jacket, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth. He quickly swallowed. “A pleasant surprise. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Sakura recognized the voice immediately, even muffled. ”Ryu-san?!” She whirled, eyes wide. Unlike the casual demeanor of the world warrior, Sakura was dumbstruck by this revelation and only stared at her hero. It felt like a lifetime since he first freed her from Galeem’s influence, all the way back in Lumbridge. She didn’t even know what to say or where to start.

”..!” She stammered.

At Sakura’s astonished reaction, Ryu arched an eyebrow. He didn’t remember ever seeing his biggest fangirl in the world being this surprise before. When he snapped and succumbed to his Dark Hado, maybe, but that was ages ago when he was still relatively green within the fighting business. It’d almost felt like a lifetime since he overcame that inner demon within him, anyway. And so, he curled a gentle smile, amused.

“What’s the matter, Sakura? You seem like you’ve seen a ghost,” Ryu asked with his head slightly tilting to the right, the tails of his headband swinging along the gesture. “How is your training going, so far? I heard you’re competing in the same tournament as I am.”

Ryu her hero, who saved her from Galeem and even before that. He was here, infront of her, and he was once again consumed by Galeem’s evil curse. How had that happened? He was fine the last time she saw him. Except it was her fault he hadn’t been able to join the Seekers, even if he wanted to. Then they had separated and now, this.

Emotion overwhelmed her. Her eyes began to water and she put her fists to her eyes, turning away from him.

”Sorry, it’s not your fault. It’s something else. My training is going really great, Ryu-san.” She managed. ”Just give me a second, please.”

Ryu, noticing the stark shift in his fangirl’s state of mind, was palpably oblivious to the irony of the situation. While he’d managed to overcome the Dark Hado within him, he now had to deal with a different demon resting within him, waiting to be awakened. It was the kind of demon who turned his eyes red. The kind of demon whom he also, ironically, freed Sakura from when they met at the now demolished Lumbridge. It felt like a lifetime ago when it happened, even though it’d only been roughly a week since. Surely, this Ryu wouldn’t have known anything that his prior iteration had gone through with Sakura (and possibly the other Seekers), especially not when he was still blindfolded by this same curse that Galeem had planted in each and every resident of the World of Light. When Sakura shifted against him, the world warrior quickly finished his lunch, then took a small step forth, placing a gentle hand over her shoulder.

“What’s the matter, Sakura?” he asked with a soothing voice, both puzzled and curious. “Are you alright? Did… Did I do something wrong?” All of a sudden, he felt remorseful, his face dropping and his heart aching. Worse after Sakura reassured him that “it’s not your fault.” Knowing how rare it was for his fangirl to cry like that, he thought he must’ve done something that elicited the exact reaction from her, but what could it be?

Sakura cleared her throat and wiped her eyes quickly. ”No! No. I am not lying. It’s not your fault.” It was her fault, really. ”You just caught me off guard. I was thinking about— something else.”

Ryu was a very straight forward person. But there was no way to explain any of this to him, especially when his mind was deluded. Again. Somehow. She lifted her shirt and used it to dry her eyes and then turned back to him with a smile.

”I really am happy to see you.” She said.

“Likewise, Sakura. Likewise,” Ryu replied with a weak, wistful nod. Then, he hesitated. “But… are you sure you’re alright, Sakura? I mean, it’s not like you to cry like this. If there is anything you’d like to talk about, I’m willing to listen, you know?”

Despite her smile, Ryu could kind of tell that Sakura was still burdened, deep down. What could it be that had been bothering her recently? Was anybody after her? Or was she just overwhelmed with joy that she couldn’t help but cry when they finally reunited after what felt like a lifetime? If only he could read her mind, but he was no telepath. If only he could convince her to get a weight off her mind, but he knew he had no right to force her to talk when she continued to refuse. He and Sakura were the same specimens, after all. Instead of using their mouths, they’d rather express themselves with their fists and kicks, letting their fighting prowess speak for themselves. And it showed.

”Tell you what. If you really are worried about me, I’ll explain everything to you the best way I know how.” She rose her clenched fist towards him. ”When we meet in bracket.” That fire in her, the spirit of combat, shone brightly and she grinned.

”Until then, let’s just be happy, okay?” She said with an earnest tilt of her head.

Ryu was, indeed, worried about her, his guilt still readable across his face. Why wouldn’t he when one of his steadfast comrades—a ray of sunshine such as herself—suddenly broke in tears and gave him the gloomiest look he’d ever seen on her usually bright face? But as were most battle-hardened fighters residing in the Tiered City, the world warrior did believe that every flail and kick could convey more meanings than the mouth could ever express. If Sakura would rather speak through her actions, then so be it, he thought. Maybe that way, she would’ve been able to let go of her burden rather freely.

“Yosh! That’s the way I like it. The way we like it,” Ryu reciprocated with a slight smile, clearly referring to her promise to explain everything once they met in the bracket. He raised and collided his knuckles with hers. “Cheer up, will you? I’m sure you’ve been doing spectacular in the tournament. I can’t wait to see you in action firsthand. Let’s just hope that our paths eventually cross again in the World Warrior tournament, should we?” He then tightened his grip on the rough string of his duffle bag, his spirit reignited despite his uncertainty. “So, ready for the next round?” He knew she probably was without a shadow of a doubt.

”I’m sure we will. I don’t plan on losing. And I know you won’t.” Sakura said. For once, she had to force the bounce in her step, but it became natural after a few moments.

”I’m fighting against someone named Arina Makihara next. I don’t know ‘em. The last guy I fought was spinning around like crazy. He kind of reminded me of Jimmy-san, or maybe Honda-san. Though a bit more dour than both.” Sakura tapped her chin.

Ryu’s smile went a little wider—not just out of amusement, but due to her progress in the tournament so far. While he wasn’t quite familiar with the nature-loving giant of a man she had as her third opponent, if Golrio was as much of a powerhouse as either Honda or Blanka was as Sakura described, then perhaps, she’d done splendidly well in the competition so far. And that really made the world warrior happy, seeing how she’d grown as a fighter.

“I’m sure you’ll do amazing in your match against Arina, too. Holding your own against a man with Honda’s or Blanka’s size is impressive in and of itself. Though, I’m not too surprised. I’ve always known you have a knack for fighting from the first time we met,” Ryu complimented, snickering quietly. Then, briefly, he drifted his eyes towards their upper corners as if trying to recall something. “As for me, I fought Skullo for my first round. I’m certain you know who he is. Then, for my second round, I fought a martial master whose fighting spirit was about as fiery as Ken’s was. They even look similar, though their fighting styles are the complete opposite of one another.” He readjusted the duffle bag on his shoulder one last time, ready to stroll. “As for my third round? I’ll be fighting Makoto Mizoguchi from the Fighter’s History Dojo. A pleasant surprise, don’t you think? Considering the past legal dispute between our dojo and his…”

As they continued to chatter and closed in on the nearest lift, Ryu remembered something. It was a conversation that he had with a number of fellow locals yesterday afternoon—a conversation that concerned Sakura in a way.

“I almost forgot, but there is, indeed, something that I’d love to talk about with you, Sakura. I must say that I’ve been hearing things about your heroic deeds since the first time we parted ways, and I was… inspired. Perhaps, we could talk more about that after our next fights?”

It was true that the story of the younger street fighter battling a group of yokai alongside the Seekers had also come to his ears, thanks to Richard and several other Esakans and nearby villagers witnessing the fray. The notion of contributing to the world and making an impact outside of the fighting business had been tempting him in recent years, especially given his renewed resolve. Perhaps, it was no coincidence that he was reunited with his old friend this afternoon. It had to happen for a reason, and that reason seemed to be aligned with his journey to self-improvement.

“I mean, if you don’t mind, of course…”

Sakura blinked, and looked at Ryu. ”I…inspired you..?” Sakura asked, voice quietly dazzled.

The world warrior gently closed his eyes and nodded. “Indeed, Sakura, you heard it right.” he confirmed, his words straightforward and matter-of-factly.

”I’d- I’d love to talk with you! About anything you want!” Sakura said, shaking her hands around. ”I mean-” Overexcited, she tried to tone it down to look cooler in front of him.

”I mean, yeah. Like, whatever. I just fought some Yokai and some turtles…I was with a giant wolf for the monster turtles, and she did a lot of the work, too, so…y’know, it’s um, it’s no big deal. But yeah we can talk about it.” Sakura said.

Ryu raised an eyebrow and grinned, close to snickering at Sakura’s hilariously sheepish reaction. She might’ve found what he said odd and flattering, he thought, but it was what it was. Everything that he said (from hearing about her heroic deeds to being inspired by his own admirer), he meant every single one of them. Or perhaps, it also had more to do with Sakura’s prior gloomy expression than it was his change of heart. Maybe if he got close to the fellow street fighter and perhaps joined one of her adventures, he’d make her feel significantly better. He had a hunch that he needed to know the reason why she felt so guilty and uncertain all of a sudden, after all.

“Well, that sounds… intriguing, Sakura. I surely would love to hear more about it,” Ryu expressed. “I know those small creatures can be troubling at times, but… battling an army of monstrous turtles with a giant wolf? Why do I have a feeling I know who that wolf is?” The older street fighter hummed, his pensive eyes locking with the opening lift ahead. Not sure if it had anything to do with him recalling a long, distant memory or that he misremembered something. Still, the sound of said ‘giant wolf’ (albeit vague) was strangely familiar. “Nevermind. Let’s just focus on the battle ahead, shall we? We can save that for another time.”

And so, the street fighters entered the lift together, moving back to the tier above for their respective matches.

FIN.

Edward somewhat disagreed with Sandalphon’s positioning suggestions, given that they would result in the window being either above the door or looking straight at his back, but he supposed if he was going to take one of those it’d be the latter. It at least meant that he could communicate more easily with those inside, given he could see and hear them, and the window could be placed just below head height rather than significantly above it had it been in the back, affording something of a view, even if it was less than a side on position would have given.

He hoped it would alleviate the impending carriage sickness a bit.

The launch ramps might have been remarkably smooth, supernaturally smooth even, in the arch of their launch, but it still moved empty stomachs in unpleasant ways to be launched into the air like them.

The sheep and rabbit stew could not cook fast enough (then again, maybe it was for the best they hadn’t just filled up on grub).

Sadly (for Edward anyway) it would likely not be wise to try and add seal to that mix, as the assorted sea creatures lounging on the beach had several among them that did not look mundane. Best to not chance finding out what they could do, in his opinion.

Well, not now anyway. Perhaps if the others showed interest in capturing or acquiring samples they might be added to their growing library of such things.

Either way, soon enough, they were out of the snowy sealscape and had moved into a less lively location.

”Nice of the locals to let us know their disposition at least” Edward commented sardonically, when they caught sight of the dangling corpse. No one with good intent would simply leave a body hanging up like that.

Still, it meant that if there was anything of value left in the mines, it was functionally theirs for the taking, which suited the Dreadnought just fine

---

Light and warmth returned to the mines for the first time in an age, but it was an infernal flame, one that smelled of sulfur and sin, and the only warmth it would bring the cursed kin of the mines would be brief indeed.

A little huddle of Tuques were the first group to learn this, after having proven themselves to be hostile when they’d attempted to swarm a drone that had peeked in on their hiding spot. Now a swarm came for them instead, as into the decrepit structure came pored three packs of inferno puppies.

Pintsized and scampering, they nonetheless laid into the equally small Frostbitten foes with gusto, delivering infernal nips that scorched these icy foes far more than they would many others. The little creatures bit and batted back at the pups, but were swiftly overwhelmed.

A few moments later, and the pack leaders, a pair of inferno steeds, entered, along with, at their rear, a squad of copper golems. The Chillanth also briefly craned its long neck into the room before swiftly growing disinterested and laying down outside as the harvesting team got to work.

The golems proceed to gather the spirits, and then surveyed the room for anything more valuable, coming up with a few broken hardhats and other damaged protective gear. It seemed like the building was for workers coming in to work, rather than somewhere where the mining equipment or extracted ores would be stored.

Back on the stagecoach, Edward resolved quite simply that he’d need to send the salvage squad deeper to find anything of value.

Resistance, naturally, increased.

---

A still somewhat humanoid Earmuff slammed its showshovel down onto an inferno puppy, annihilating it with the Stunning Cold blow, only to be torn apart by the burning bites of its fellows. They, in turn, had to flee as the frigid breath of a Triscarf washed towards them, the cold a deadly threat to these fiery beings. The scarf wrapped gangle of libs was in turn overwhelmed when one of the inferno steeds rushed in and unleashed its fire breath on it, melting frozen flesh and igniting its three name sake garments.

A Scarf (singular) charged forwards with a stumbling peg-legged gait, the massive icicle in place of its head threatening to to skewer the inferno steed, only for the Chillanth to lunge in, grab its flesh-ish arm, and to drag it to the side. The teeth themselves did minimal damage, but the searing enchantment made up for it, thawing the flesh enough for the beast to rip the limb off, antifreeze hued blood splattering the snow.

The Scarf stumbled and swayed, only to be set upon by an inferno puppy pack before it could recover, the tiny hellbeasts leaping onto it, digging burning fangs and claws into it. It slammed into the ground under their combined weight, and then expired moments later, causing the pups to fall into an ashy heap.

Elsewhere in the battle, the copper golems were too slow to evade the Frigid Breaths of a Trapper Hat and a Balaclava, leaving two in their midst frozen solid like statues, trapping the others in place by extension as the squad was unable to break formation. Too lost in the madness to take advantage of this however, the pair both closed in on the golems, and received searing speartips as a reward. The Balaclava managed to ram a stunning cold icicle shiv into one, ending its existence, but they were held back long enough for the inferno puppies could flank them to devastating effect.

With that, the last of the Frostbitten foes fell, and through the eyes of his troops, Edward got a better look at the treasure trove that he’d had them fight to secure, namely a tipped over minecart which had spilled glittering ores onto the ground.

These, along with the spirits were eagerly salvaged and then stashed in the inferno steed’s saddle bags for transport. What was really important (to Edward) however was that the tracks the cart had been traveling on lead down into the entrance of a mineshaft, one which surely must have been in use when this load was abandoned. If so, then within might be other loaded carts, or even the tools used to mine them, which would likely be worth more, weight wise, than the unprocessed minerals.

Thus, deeper the expedition force plunged, the Dreadnought pushing his luck in the hope of striking the motherload.

He gambled… poorly.

---

Pompom managed to catch the force off guard. Not because its approach was quiet, mind. Its many many boots thumping against the stone floor caused quite the racket as it approached the abandoned digsite that Edward had correctly predicted the existence of (and which the exploration force had been midway through looting when the cursed creature began its approach).

No, it was the fact that its front dozens of limbs were wearing incredibly soft mittens that muffled their pounding steps, meaning that the head of the many meters long millipede like Pompom rounded the corner a full second before the source of the noise it was making did.

That second was all it needed for it to unleash its Deep Cold before Edward could react. This was no breath, or strike. Instead the temperature within the entire chamber suddenly plummeted, smothering all in unstoppable, undogable. Unrelenting cold

Every single inferno puppy was snuffed out in an instant, the inferno steeds took catastrophic damage, and all but one of the remaining bronze golems froze solid. Only the Chillanth remained standing, ice typing letting it endure the icy aura. It retaliated by launching itself in a leap at Pompom, claws reaching out to rend into its side. The gashes were light however, as the frozen flesh endured, and only the searing enchantment of its knife like digits did much harm.

A dozen mitted gloves battered it in turn, low in individual harm but adding up together, before Pompom also unleashed its icy breath. This swept over the frost resistant impossible creature to little effect, but further damaged the two inferno steeds behind it.

The Chillanth bit into the foe in turn, but again, did little to harm it with its physical strike. Even flames that ignited on Pompm’s body as a result of the strike did near chip damage despite their type advantage. The oversized creature seemed to have an abundance of vitality that would need to be chewed through to bring it down.

At a distance, Edward saw that the writing was on the wall. Even if the Chillanth could win a long drawn out battle, his summoned troops would not be able to survive anywhere close to that long, which would leave him unable to command the impossible creature after its victory.

Thus he had the final unfrozen golem strike the ground with the butt of its spear in a one, two, one rhythm, which he had instructed the creatures to see as the signal to retreat and return to him. Then he sent the two inferno steeds forwards to the Chillanth time to do so, despite them holding onto the loot he’d sought to retrieve.

A moment later, the cold overwhelmed the area again, and he lost sight of the conflict as the last golem froze, and the inferno steeds too succumbed to the cold.

He could only hope his creation made it back safely. As he wired, he reported the situation to any of the other seekers who’d gone on the prowl, both regarding the nature of the threat, and the piles of resources now gathered in the room where his force had fallen.

@Lugubrious

Harry Dubois

𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝒦𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾

Word Count: 467
Level: Lv: 6 EXP: (3/60)
Lv: 4 EXP: (5/40)
Location: Esaka’s Middle Tier - Pool Arena Round 2

Axel looked quite surprised seeing Harry getting back up onto his feet. And Harry was not going to be brought down so easily. The detective was slowly getting back onto his feet, and he had his arms raised. Before the round started, Harry spat a bit of blood onto the ground. ” Is that all ya got? My grandma could hit harder.” Harry said with a blood-stained smile on his face.

“Tsk, I’m gonna wipe that smile off your face.” Axel sneered as the second round was signalled to start. Axel started the round off by charging at Harry like a rhino. Harry easily moved out of the way, jumping into the air to kick Axel in the back of the head. Axel stumbled before falling on the ground. Harry made his way over to the toppled Axel, giving his side a hard kick. Axel grunted in pain before getting back onto his feet.

“Son of a…” Axel grunted, trying to uppercut Harry. But Harry leaned to the side, being relatively low to the ground. Axel grabbed Harry’s tie to bring him back onto his feet. Once again, he tried to hit Harry in the face. But Harry was quick and once again dodged the punch. He reached into his jacket pocket to pull out his flask. Quickly, he chugged the contents, which he had refilled before this round.

His face contorted from the strong liquor burning his throat. The liquor quickly started to settle. He burped into Axel’s face, who let go of Harry’s tie. Harry began to stumble towards him. Hitting Axel in the liver before following it up with another punch to his kidney. Axel was hunched over, close to falling to the ground. Axel was quite resilient and stood up a few moments later.

Axel, by this point, was furious. His face was bright red as he tried to let out a flurry of punches. Harry lazily dodged each of Axel’s punches. Rewarding the boxer with hard slaps and chops to his face and chest. Some of his blows landed, making Harry cringe in pain. ” D**n it. Altright, you asked for it.” Harry said, taking another chug from his flask and stumbling back and forth, finding it harder to dodge Axel’s punches. Axel’s hit landed, breaking Harry’s nose and fracturing various bones on his face and body. After a few moments of his beating, Harry was laid out on the floor, and it was signalled that Axel had won the match.

Medics came in to get Harry and tend to his wounds. Axel, meanwhile, spat some blood on the ground, sneering at Harry. Dr.Faust, along with Harry, was tending to the wounds he had gotten from his beating. Faust looked surprised as Harry moved his body, showing how resilient he was.

Yayama, on arriving to Wine-cup Hold, found herself a seat with a good view of the entrance. One could justify it as a habit of watching for ambushes, and while that was certainly a factor, she mostly just wanted to do a bit of people-watching before the main event. Said watching mostly involved her eyebrow seemingly trying to escape the confines of her face and retreat under her hat as Seeker after Seeker filed into the courtyard. She'd been wondering if her newfound comrades had much of a feel for subtlety, and this particular event had slammed her in the face with a sack of bricks, each individually painted with a bright red "NO."

She listened patiently to Chevalier's explanation of his organization, their situation, and his knowledge of G-Corp. It was an ambitious plan, to say the least, but it had clever elements to it that inclined her to think it would work. Terry's interjection held some weight, but Chevalier's retort held more. For her part, she waited for the opening for input before speaking up, raising her hand in case anyone had trouble spotting the source of her voice in the crowd.

"I'm better suited for a mass assault than an assassination, if I'm being honest, but I've also got a tournament to attend. I'm willing to give up that bid if necessary, but I have a feeling the rest of Esaka's a lot more willing to listen to an up-and-comer over someone who took two rounds and bowed out before the going got tough. How's the timing going to work out on Team A?"

"I don't have any opinion on what you do with the stagecoach. I ride on top of it anyway to keep an eye out so it doesn't bother me." Blazermate said, as Sandalphon suggested changes to be made to the stagecoach. Sectonia appreciated her mentioning symmetry as something that was important, saying. "It fits both form and function. It looks much better, and theres no chance of things going lopsided." She said basically affirming what Sandalphon had said.

As they made their way they ran into a bit of a side objective, a derelict town to explore appeared before them. Being one to see if areas had useful items, as one couldn't be too sure in this strange world that there wasn't some, magical artifact of obscene power hidden in the most mundane of places. So Sectonia volunteered to go and check out the town. Seeing as multiple seekers were going, Blazermate decided to join them.

The houses didn't look the greatest, so Sectonia suggested that if they were empty, as they weren't staying the could just... level the place. Looking at these wooden houses and hearing that, a thought entered Blazermate's head and she flew to a nearby house, got her tinderbox out, and lit it on fire. it took a bit for it to catch, and as she tried from the side of the house came a monster dressed in winter gear to investigate the 'tick tick' of the tinderbox. As it left the house it saw Sectonia, and immediately attacked her. Although attacking Sectonia was the last thing it'd do as it touched her, she summoned a large Ring of Light around her, and using it has a 'get off me' sort of attack, did some damage, smashing the creature with her crystal smash afterwords.

This gave Blazermate enough time to light the house on fire, getting more fireworks as her firemaking level got to 41 from the sheer amount of wood burned. As the house burned, Blazermate happy about her 'xp', the rest of the monsters tried to escape the burning house, walking through a field of swords on the ground as she struck her lightning down at them, giving them nowhere to go but forward through the pain as their house burned, but they'd only get close to Sectonia before they fell.

Picking up the spirits of the 4 monsters, considering they had winter gear, perhaps this would help with the cold that was to come?

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



Listening to Terry's idea, Roland shrugged. "Can't hurt to have more people I guess. Although if any of them have ulterior motives, things might get ugly." Really he was all for the assassination plan, that was kinda what fixer work he did when not doing intelligence. When the newcomer Yayama came up and said their plan, Roland could only shake his head at the full assault plan. "If thats your thing, then you'll love these guys. " Roland said. "They do this thing all the time. Granted when I worked at the library we'd have to fight the City in 5 man teams as well, so Its not unknown to me. but when things get too big, well..." Roland continued, not really finishing that thought.

"Although, I've also got my own fights so... unless opportunity comes knocking, I'll be going through Tekken. I think I'm one of the only ones going through that line, and we need to take out that king." Roland said, pointing out their main mission. "I HAVE to take my fights. Although if I come home with a book, you'll know why."

While the rest of the Seekers that had met to discuss how to handle G-Corp left to continue that discussion in a meeting with a whole new group, Primrose remained in the Pools tier. She was rapidly getting familiar with the area on just the few pass throughs, and she expected she would be spending even more time there throughout the week. With four separate tournaments running concurrently, and only throughout the next couple of days, there weren't any scheduled breaks for the participates - so there were just as many fighters competing now as there was earlier, despite it being the traditional lunch hour.

The dancer rechecked the various brackets for any changes she thought she should be aware of. So far all of the Seekers were still in Winner's, save for that man Kim... ah, scratch that. The World Warrior listing flickered with golden speckles as another relevant name dropped down into the Loser's Bracket: Harry Du Bois. That was 'their Harry,' wasn't it?

"Hm." Primrose made the mental note but ultimately didn't find herself all that surprised. The two men were new recruits without any sort of outstanding power let alone magic. Frankly it was more shocking that they'd gotten through any actual martial artists, even the amateurs one could expect in the early stages of the tournaments. Though they technically had the chance to keep making their way through the Loser's Brackets, there were still other Seekers still winning that they could rely on. Left now were Zenkichi and Roland in Tekken, Sakura and Bid Band in World Warrior, Pit, Nadia, and Yayama in Mortal Kombat, and the team of Terry, Amaterasu, and Captain Falcon in King of Fighters.

She didn't expect those members standings to change today, but there were a few matches left for the afternoon. On that note Primrose rechecked her intended destination, then headed once more to to the MK section of the Pools. She passed by a few excited yokai chattering about how Mortal Kombat might be more exciting that usual this go around, but as far as she could tell it was just the hopes of fans of the blood sport.

Not worth her time at the moment.



Moving as part of a large group was something Therion had gotten used to. Not just with the Seekers, but with his companions back in Orsterra as well. It didn't normally bother him as much as one might expect given his personality (or original personality, or whatever), but at the moment he was a bit antsy about it. Not because he was nervous about Kazuya, because it wasn't like the guy had been after all of them in the first place. It was for the fact that one of the region's Consuls was in the city. Hiding in plain sight as a fine strategy and all, and Esaka was a fairly large city, but the Seekers were not exactly inconspicuous. It would be easier to assume that Moebius was already aware of their presence and chose not to engage them, but to be safe they actually had to assume the opposite. And clustering together as they weaved through the Mid Tier was not the opposite.

At least it was a fairly quick trek. One that Terry managed to fit an entire long winded story into, but still quick all things considered. Therion took a moment to raise a brow at the exterior of the establishment they ended up in front of before he entered it along with the rest of the gathered Seekers. His ears stood high on his head, listening for any signs of ambush. So far so good though, he supposed. Just a handful of apparent do-gooders whose leader jumped right into business. The thief was grateful for that.

He chose to stand and listened as Chevalier proposed his alliance and his plans, though many of the specific names and terms he used escaped Therion. Especially when Terry jumped in to speak. Rather than try and keep any of the background of these characters straight, Therion focused just on the general outline Chevalier gave them. The man concurred with Therion's earlier thoughts that blindly raiding the G-Corp building was a bad idea, offering the alternative of destabilizing the company itself to get to its leadership. Therion wasn't adept at this sort of thing, but after mulling the information over he found that it made sense to him.

It honestly surprised Therion that the Seekers hadn't been flat out betrayed yet, at least to his knowledge. One would think that there were plenty of villains around who would eagerly try and take advantage of a group of heroes. Then again, wasn't this world full to the brim with heroes in general? The amount of genuinely good people must outweigh the bad ones, so it was likely that this, too, was just a bona fide offer of cooperation. If they seriously wanted to go after G-Corp, they'd have more of an advantage if the Seekers took them up on it.

...but Therion was not without his suspicions. And his questions.

"If your goal is the Four Kings, why bother going after G-Corp?" he asked during a lull in the back and forth between the UN and the Seekers of Light. In fact wouldn't it make more sense to use the distraction of the bounty to take a stab at the Kings?

Or perhaps they wanted to curry some favor with Esaka's rulers, in order to do the stabbing in the back later on? A long con would be better suited for this kind of thing, although...

"The reward," Therion said next, tone flat. "Are you planning to claim it, even if they don't let a whole group up there?"

Chevalier had emptied the last of his wine from his glass as Therion spoke, though his expression suggested he wouldn't tolerate the cup being empty for long. "...Simply put, because G-Corp is bad for everyone. Their removal will only benefit Esaka and its people. For now, eliminating them is more achievable than the Four Kings." He paused he considered the thief's next question. "I think that 'reward' is a fool's errand. As far as we know, nobody has even successfully communicated with the Heavenly Principles, let alone convinced them to alter the balance. Our stance is that Heihachi's offer is a bluff. After all, how can we bring back a head if bodies turn to ash?"

A fair assumption. It did sound a little too good to be true. Though he'd thought the same, Therion had been lured in by that sort of temptation before; the easy mark, the unguarded treasure. Bringing the head was simply an expression, and there were ways to confirm Kazuya's death without it. Even if it didn't result in an audience with the Heavenly Principles, it would at least give them an opening at one of the Kings, if not all of them at once. It was a chance too good to pass up, even if it wasn't true.

"I guess you wouldn't mind if us fools took them up on the offer then," he said. "you know, just to be sure."

Without replying, Chevalier gave a shrug, as if to say knock yourselves out.

Which meant that if they did work with this altruistic group, they had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Therion's tail twitched. He didn't say anything more, just listened to the others talk and clear up their own misgivings. Until they had a time table like Yayama had brought up there was no need to split up now, but he did consider where he'd rather be when they kicked of this whole thing. A fair few Seekers already looked convinced, so it might as well have been a done deal already.

There were many important questions to be asked about this whole situation. Why could they suddenly understand other languages? Did bringing down a coffee shop really weaken G-Corp? Could these people really be trusted? What was a pop star?

All these and more, Amaterasu wanted to ask, but, alas, divine wolf was as much more body language than actual language, and so even here, under whatever effect had translated Chevalier’s words, she was left hoping others would ask them in turn.

This did not start out on a great foot, given that the first to be asked was by Rika, who, despite having been proactive in organizing the initial get together that had now moved here, began by asking ”So what’s good on this place’s menu?”

The girl had one of said menus very carefully held between a thumb and forefinger of a gauntlet, while her brother by her side was working at taking the other off (they were not going to miss the opportunity to have a second lunch). Given that he was the only one presently partaking in what was served, this question was naturally directed at Chevalier, having perched herself on the nearest available chair/table. The one beside her was saved for Jr via his duffel bag being sat on it, and his brush being leaned against it.

Contrary to what one might expect, Chevalier did not seem too put off by the question. “This is my first time here, so I can only say that their finest wine is…adequate. For the Middle Tier.” He lifted his glass and swirled the small amount of deep red liquid still inside. Then he lowered his glasses enough to scrutinize the children with a closer look. “Of course, wine is highly toxic to youngsters like yourselves. Technically you’re not permitted on the premises, but this is something of a special occasion, hm?”

”Coz we’re wrecking machines who’re gonna be wrecking machines, yeah?” Jr said (self aware enough to know that letting kids go fight killer robots was something a lot of people would balk at) as he finished securing the first of Rika’s gauntlets to her back and moved onto the other. Rika, in turn, passed the menu from gauntletted hand to the bare one, and flipped the menu over to try and escape the wine section of it.

Amaterasu, for three, was glad they weren't making a fuss about being denied wine, assuming they must have had at least some sensible parenting on the topic when really it was all down to their father’s annoyance with one drunken god that had led to their understanding that alcohol was a bad thing.

”So I guess I was right about them selling to people outside the city then? Given these are coming in from wherever this tangled shore place is” Rika then said, glancing up from the list of fancy sounding cheeses that made up a fair chunk of the rest of the menu.

This time, Anji replied to her with a knowing nod. “Indeed. We don’t have a comprehensive list of their business associates, but since shipments in travel often passed by Esaka, we know that they supplied the administration in Midgar to the east.” He continued to fan himself, shrugging. “Of course, we’re aware that Midgar has been abandoned, but rumors do circulate of a new faction that’s taken over the ruins. One with an even keener interest in machines.”

”Good luck too em, way the team who went there tell it, that city was a deathtrap and a half” Jr said as he finished freeing up his sister's hands, and hopped into a chair next to her. She in turn passed him the menu, before weaving her fingers together and stretching them.

”There was some kind of machine mind control thing that almost got Poppi right? Guess that’s gone?” she then remarked, to which Jr replied ”or whoever’s there thinks they can use it and is about to get burned bad”, following it up with a wicked little grin of amusement at that predicted misfortune.

Without any further knowledge on the subject, Anji could only give a noncommittal grunt and look away. Chevalier noted that the kids were still looking at the menu. “I ordered a Mediterranean Vegetable Flatbread,” he said idly. “And though the skewers sounded tempting, you two might enjoy their wings and fries. The cheese and charcuterie boards lose some of their charm without a wine pairing.”

”The variety seemed nice though” Rika said, as she pointed out an option that contained a selection of three cheeses and three meats for a rather extortionate amount of money.

”Probably a lot of it though, right?” Jr replied, incorrectly assuming the increased price was about volume and not fancyness, and pointing out that ”Don’t wanna be too full while fighting, right?”

Amatarasu couldn’t agree with that sentiment, but then she did have a spare stomach. Plis, if the kids were going to focus on this rather than useful questions, she might as well take advantage of that, she thought, loping up behind them and hopping up to awkwardly perch on the chair next to them. Rather than try and lean in to read, she just paused time and scrolled her canvas around so she could see the options, reading them all in the blink of the other’s eyes.

Once one the pair had finished deciding, ending on french fires and garlic shrimp skewer (Rika’s choice), did she lean in and nab the menu before it could be put back down. Awkwardly manipulating it with jaws and paws, she set it down in a way that Chevalier could see it. Then she traced a paw over the table, leaving behind a trail of zenny that formed an arrow pointing at the wings (one which contained the exact change to pay for it). The gentleman picked it up long enough for him to view it, then passed it to Anji, who left to relay the trio’s orders to the winery staff.

It was enough time for Terry to have come to his suggestion of who should do what missions, one which Jr responded by calling over ”Way ahead of you!” before turning back to the Frenchman and asking ”So what’s the delivery deal? They got trucks, or something more interesting to bring these bots over?”

“Armored personnel carrier,” Chevalier reported. “It’s none too fast, but it’ll be a tough nut to crack.”

”I’ve got a few big can openers on hand, shouldn’t be an issue” Jr replied, before catching himself before he accidentally cracked the building open by summoning one of his oversized mechanical strikers to demonstrate.

”Once we do get it open, what’s gonna be inside do you think? Other than the exploding bots I mean? Just some driver or do you think this’d be where their ‘super soldiers’ would show up” Rika asked, somewhat hoping that it would be. The longer it took for them to do so, the more super she imagined they’d be.

Chevalier took a moment to think. “A driver, yes. As for additional protection…although I cannot say for certain, I think it likely that G-Corp leadership would judge the Jack units sufficient to defend themselves. With limited forces still in Esaka, it would make sense to keep their Gigas units here to support their VIPs.” He stroked his beard. “Then again, perhaps Kazuya doesn’t need any help. If Gigas units are there, it would be to our overall advantage, even if it does further endanger Team A.”

”So they are kinda a big deal then” Rika asked rhetorically, having been right in her guess that they were pretty super, before actually asking ”What can they do? They, like, really good fist fighters or are they gonna shoot at us?”

Although the kids’ demand for specifics was beginning to reach the limits of Chevalier’s knowledge, he could shed some light on Gigas at least. “They’re just big brutes, albeit very effective ones. Strong, durable, hard to stagger.”

”Fist fighter then. Yeah, we can deal with that” Rika replied, before suggesting that they would ”probably wanna just draw em out and skirmish em all. Stay clear of the explosions, n out of reach of these big guys”

”Alright, looks like we’re good to go. Just point us at em and they’re good as in the scrapheap already” Jr added confidently, before adding the ever so little caveat of ”After lunch anyway”

Amatarasu could only hope they could indeed handle it. At least she’d learned a little about what she might run into when going after one of the ViPs. As for which one she’d be going after, she’d probably stick with her team. They’d all be free at the same time after all, so they might as well stick together for this too. In her opinion anyway.

The matter of Wine-Cup Hold was a subject that Grima heard from her ever dutiful snake. A secret meeting between a ‘United Nations’ and ‘The Seekers of Light’. Both names meant nothing for the Fell Dragon, but she understood the relevance of her ‘partner’ informing her of this meeting: It was of import to the future of Esaka, and if she could get her talons into the game, she could make her mark far quicker than usual. The only question was how she would actually infiltrate the Wine-Cup Hold and eavesdrop on the meeting.

The answer to the question was rather simple: Pretending that she was a part of the staff. The Fell Dragon had seen all walks of life, and she knew how to blend in. The first step was simply ambushing a waitress on their break and knocking them out for a time, then using the opening to disguise herself as one of them. A few of the staff questioned, but when one acts like they belong, eventually those questions were put to the side in favor of focusing on their work, especially when the new girl was both not causing trouble and smoothly working like she had been in the place for years.

Now, the white haired vessel stood on standby, having delivered the wine to the group that was meeting and was now idling, a passive face hiding the close listening of her true self. The plot of overthrowing the Four Kings was one she could fully support… But only if she could place herself on top afterwards. Taking out this Kazuya and his precious G-Corp was a fascinating plan… One that relied on secrecy and the element of surprise. Depending on how things went, she could easily leak these plans to G-Corp itself. Lending a hand to these upstarts could prove good as well… If she wasn’t already focused on her tournament.

Well, either way, she simply had to keep her plans to herself, and adjust based on what she heard from this group.

As per usual, Mokou had taken to the sky to offer an aerial point of view for the other Seekers, keeping an eye out for any notable sightings. The cold air did not bother her at all, and because of that she felt confident to be alone like this. Though, with her immortality, it wasn’t difficult to be confident in any situation. For now, she was simply scouting ahead, keeping an eye out for anything that caught her attention.

And eventually, she did find something that caught her eye… And her stomach.

Far below, a black, bipedal creature walked through the snow near the ruined village, seemingly pleased with itself as it adjusted its acquired cargo in its claws: A large, green spotted egg taken from one of the nests nearby. The creature, a Sneasel, happily hopped down from a small ledge, pushing through the fallen snow… Just before a comet of flame slammed into the ground before them, spooking them enough that they dropped the egg into the soft snow and stepped back, immediately dropping into a defensive stance with their claws raised.

The comet quickly burnt away, revealing the white haired phoenix, who simply rolled her shoulders as she rose to her full height, “Yo. Sorry for the robbery, but I’m in the mood for something actually filling. So-” Mokou began raising a hand from her pocket and aiming it at the Sneasel before a flame erupted from her fingertips, not jumping towards Sneasel but to inform the Pokemon what it was dealing with.

A few tense moments pass as the two stared at each other, both seemingly ready to throw down for the right to eat this egg. But after a few moments, the Sneasel took a step back… And then leapt backwards, spinning around before sprinting away and letting out an annoyed “Sneas!”. It was a hunter, but it knew it could find another meal. Facing something that could summon fire was a fool’s errand.

Moku held her pose for a few moments, watching the Sneasel flee the scene, before the flames vanished. With a confident walk, Mokou moved over to the fallen egg and lifting it up with one hand, taking a moment to position it between her arm and torso for ease of transport. It was a bit odd to do it this way, but she hadn’t had a good meal in a while, and while she technically didn’t need to eat anymore, it still felt good to have some nice food. And a well cooked egg was just what she could plan on enjoying.

Of course, all plans had a tendency to fall apart, a fact that Mokou was reminded of when the egg shook on its own in her arm. The phoenix had a few moments to blink in a rare moment of surprise before a flash of light erupted from the egg… And revealing the respectably sized blue sphere of a Spheal, letting out a small “Sphee?” as its black eyes looked up at Mokou.

“... Oh, fantastic. Just what I need to be saddled with” Mokou says with a heavy sigh of annoyance at the blue ball staring up at her without a shred of shame in its eyes. She knew animals well enough to know what happened when a newborn saw an individual for the first time, as it was a concept she had dealt with several times in her long lifespan: Imprinting. This creature effectively saw her as their mother now. And fortunately for it, and unfortunately for her, she wasn’t heartless enough just to drop it in the snow and go on her way. Instead she simply took to the skies, shifting the Spheal in her arms so it fit snugly as she flew back to the Seekers.

It took several minutes, especially with Mokou flying slowly to not jostle the creature now in her arms, but eventually she returned to the stagecoach, floating down to the side of the vehicle to figure out just what she was going to do with the creature that was currently trying to shift around to look up at her properly.

Ramattra, not particularly keen on traveling inside the ruins of the mining village filled to the teeth with Aurora knows what, stayed at the defense of the Stagecoach during the travel. His curiosity was plenty satisfied after the occurrings atop the space station. His new appearance after fusing with the Democrawler was one that the other seekers would need to adjust to, himself included.

As he saw Mokou return to the comfort of the coach with a small blue creature in clutch, suddenly the curiosity he was convinced was gone came back tenfold, standing straight up in observation as she brought it closer. “Now, what kind of beast is that?” He asked the Phoenix, gently extending a metallic digit pointed at the small creature.

Whatever it was, appeared somewhat imprinted on Mokou, raising more questions in the Omnic’s mind. He had seen creatures similar to these among his short travels with White Team; the Reindrix, Roxas’ Scamp, and Edward’s minions. There certainly was something peculiar about these magical creatures.

“Hard to say, seems like a cross between a ball and a seal from what I can gather. Saw another thing trying to carry an egg away and thought it would be a good time to get something nice to eat, and as soon as I got the egg it hatched, and here we are. So, guess I’m a surprise mother now” Mokou answers with a shrug, taking hold of the Spheal and holding it out in front of her, turning it around so that it could face her as well, “D’you got a name you want to give yourself?”

“Sphea!”

“Yeah, I thought as much,” the white haired girl says, tone completely impassive, tilting her head to look at the Omnic past the Spheal, “I’m not heartless enough to just ditch a newborn in the snow. So figuring out exactly what I can do with this.”

The Omnic harumphed in mild amusement towards the small animal. There was no way he was able to care for it either, given that he had started serving more of a defensive role for the stagecoach. Though, a small stoic companion that wouldn’t require much of his attention did also sound appealing.

With a dismissive wave, the Omnic reeked himself back into conversation. “Well, I suppose your options are pretty limited, but luckily they’re cut and dry. You could delegate the creature to another ally, figure out what it is and care for it… or…” The last thing was too harsh for even the cold Omnic to enunciate out loud. It was definitely an option, though?

“I’m not entirely certain, but a lot of the beasts in this world are docile to a fault. Perhaps this… thing, could make a valuable resource.” Ramattra scratched the spheal atop its round head, displaying slight affection towards it, his amazement of the world only grew the more oddities he got to see.

”It’s called a Pokemon.” Roxas’ voice cut in as he approached. He heard the small cry of the Pokemon and came over out of curiosity. His silvery Rotom Phone floated out of his backpack and immediately started scanning the little blubbery ball. ”Let’s see, you’re… a Spheal!”

He turned his Phone for Mokou to look at the screen, ”Take a look. My Pokedex App will tell you everything you need to know about Spheal, here.” He wasn’t exaggerating either. The Pokedex App could tell Mokou the gender of the Spheal she was looking at, the kind of flavors it enjoyed eating, and even what moves it currently knew how to use. Though, since it was a newborn from an Egg it probably didn’t know many moves right now.

“Hm. Interesting. When you live as long as I do, even seeing a new species is a fascinating prospect” Mokou states, slowly placing the spherical Pokemon down on the ground to let them wander around on their own before she takes the Pokedex, “Female, spicy foods… ‘Rollout’ and ‘Defense Curl’. Well, lucky for them I happen to make good spiced foods” the Phoenix says with a nod, handing the phone back, “So, a ‘Pokemon’. Similar to the ones that you carry around, yeah? If so, one of those balls might be good to carry them around. I’d offer them to you, but…” she trails off for a moment before shrugging, “Imprinting means that it’ll want to stick with me.”

“I suppose it is rather ‘cute’.” The word almost came out of the Omnic’s metaphorical mouth like poison, drawing space between its enunciation. Even the normally stoic Ramattra found himself drawn by the creature's spherical charm, but the obvious questions needed to be asked as well. “But would you be able to care for it? It would make another mouth to feed, and we’re calling it close on food as is.” The Omnic tapped his staff gently on the terrain, ever the stickler about everyone in the group pulling their own weight.

”Here, take one of mine for now.” Roxas said, having fished a Poke Ball from his backpack and was now offering it to Mokou. It was his last standard Poke Ball, but he still had a couple of Great Balls left, and a single Feather Ball and Heavy Ball. So he wasn’t completely out yet. ”Just tap the button to make the ball shrink and expand. While it’s expanded, you let the ball tap the Pokemon and it’ll catch it. Most of the time you have to battle and weaken them first, but I’m guessing this baby Spheal isn’t going to resist letting you capture it.” Roxas explained.

”Poke Balls aren’t super hard to come by.” He added, ”If you find any Pokemon Centers, they’ll have them available for sale. We also have someone back on our ship who can make Poke Balls as long as you bring her the materials for it: Apricorns, Tumblestones, and Iron. Those make Poke Balls and higher quality Great Balls.” Of course there was also Ramattra’s question which the Nobody was addressing now. ”Feeding them isn’t too hard either. Pokemon in the wild munch on various berries that grow in trees and bushes. Like these.” He had his Rotom Phone display a picture of some Oran Berries and Rawst Berries. ”They grow all over the place if you know where to look for them. You can come with me next time I go berry hunting and see for yourself if you want to.”

As the Seekers walked alongside the stagecoach chatting about the surprise addition to the group, their conversation piqued the interest of another member who poked their head out from around the front of the carriage. There was a cold breeze that tousled the Ace Cadet's fiery colored hair, but otherwise he didn't look anything but curious as he looked over Ramattra, Roxas, Mokou, and finally the little blue ball of blubber in the latter's arms. Immediately upon seeing it, his eyes brightened.

"So you guys really were saying 'Spheal!'" he called down to them.

Since departing the ghost town and its cold furnace, Ace had climbed up onto the coach again to enjoy the so far peaceful path. Peaceful as in they had still yet to be attacked by anything. And once again the myriad of creatures and minions that spread out in the stagecoach's wake were more than enough to trample on anything small that happened to cross their paths. So, carriage defense it was - though the ramps of the raceway they'd wandered onto were the only thing that looked somewhat dangerous at the moment. And even those had gone much smoother than the Cadet had expected, whether due to Edward's practiced driving or their own design.

Either way, snippets of conversation reached his ears whether he intended to eavesdrop or not. After the window was installed on the coach's front wall he thought he heard Tora's voice, and outside on the coach's right he'd heard the unlikely trio discussing 'Spheal' and, more curious to him, 'newborn.' If there were people being born in this world it stood to reason that creatures were reproducing too of course, but he didn't recall seeing anything like that before, save for this hatchling.

Ace hopped down from atop the coach, sinking into the snow as soon as he landed then keeping pace with the others as they walked at about the time Roxas was explaining how to capture a Pokémon, which was pretty much exactly the same as the Pals down to even making the devices themselves. The concept was less interesting to him than the actual Pokémon Mokou was carrying, though. And, yeah, there was no doubt that it was a Spheal. "It's like a little new Lost Number, huh?"

He gently pet it behind one of its ears while Roxas went over care, though he glanced up and added his own experience too.

"These guys also eat fish," he told them. "When some of us got stuck in Edinburgh Magicapolis, we ended up working at a Spheal show for an afternoon. They don't look that smart, but they can be trained pretty well! And they're snow cute, right?"

Ace smiled at the gathered group. "Now that we're through those jumps, some of us could double back a bit and grab some fish for it," the hunter suggested. After a moment he seemed to realize something and then spoke up again quickly, a little touch of embarrassment in his voice. "...and for us too!"

Ramattra nodded along with Ace’s suggestion. The Omnic’s concern for the Seekers was that they would be in peak condition for the journey. With how long they had already been out on the road, minus the times they rested of course, it was obvious if they didn’t make progress with food, the organic members of White Team would go hungry by the end of the day. “I have no objections. So long as there ends up being enough for everyone. The last thing we need is dead weight.”

“Do we have any actual equipment for fishing?” The Omnic asked. It was a fair question, gathering fish for the rest of the crew would prove a lot easier if all four of them had rods, nets, or the like. “Or… I suppose we could try lobbing grenades into fishing holes. Barbaric, but it could work.”

"Someone must, there were those fish hung up on the coach yesterday," Ace replied. Of course they hadn't dried so much as frozen, and he hadn't seen who the angler was. Must have been when they were passing through that canyon. Regardless, he also held up his arm that had his Slinger attached. "I've got a sturdy capture net though, so no explosives needed."

“Even without that, I know how to fish without a rod. Just a matter of knowing when to dive” Mokou states with a shrug, taking the Pokeball from Roxas and examining it in her hand, “Could always go and try. Frozen fish should be good enough though, depends on who is still around this place. Either way-” Mokou suddenly activates the pokeball, enlarging the sphere before tapping it on Spheal’s forehead, a questioning “Sphea?” coming out before it was engulfed in a blue light and taken into the pokeball, “It’s something I’ll handle. Falls to me I suppose.”

Victory did not feel as good this time as it had earlier. Pit was not one to wallow in unpleasant thoughts for long though, and soon enough he really had convinced himself that the outcome for his and Ashrah's match was for the best. The demonness seemed pleased, anyway. It was a little hard to tell, but she definitely had more pep in her step compared to that morning. As they crossed the threshold between their assigned area and the Pools Tier in general, she glanced down at the angel who was staring at the little mote of light he carried with a pinched expression.

"I meant to ask, what exactly is that thing?" she questioned.

"It's the spirit of that wraith," Pit answered, squinting his eyes at the image in the orb. It definitely did not have wings. After a moment he looked up at Ashrah, meeting her curious gaze. "Guess I didn't really go over that part yet? You can basically do a bunch of things with them, but I dunno if I want to use this one."

For a moment Ashrah looked conflicted. Her fingers flexed around the handle of a weapon that wasn't there. She had slayed Omen with the Kriss, and yet its spirit remained? But she had felt the blade sing with the demon's slaughter and a rush of relief that must have been part of the purification process... could it be that with the demon's death its evil was purged from the world, and the ball of light was only something like a husk, in place of corpse?

That must be it. She gave a barely noticeable nod of her head as she decided this truth.

Oblivious to the woman's brief inner turmoil, Pit was having an internal discussion of his own.

Lady Palutena? Did you hear from that Gargos guy when...?

It does seem like it would have been the perfect time for another god to barge in our conversation, huh? But no, I haven't heard anything. Either he is still under Galeem's control, like I was, and can't tune in to any divine radio stations, or... he just didn't care.

Even if Omen was evil, that's kinda sad. I never understood how anyone can follow someone like that.

Some people are only attracted to the power an evil being can grant. And for others, it's all they know. They can't even see any other option.

It was that last thought that Pit mulled over. He was far from the philosophical sort, but despite what some may think he did have a brain. A brain that he sometimes used, even.

"Hey Ashrah," he said, drawing the demon woman's attention back to him. "Were you always a nice demon?"

The question seemed to come from no where for those that weren't privy to angel and goddess' telepathic communication. Ashrah blinked at Pit, and he stared for a moment before he winced when he realized his wording. "Uh, sorry, is that weird to ask? I just meant since I've never met another demon who wanted to un-demon themselves? You told me a little about it but not from the beginning."

Ashrah let the faux pas pass, having dealt with much, much worse before. "It's fine. In truth, for most of my life I thought that Netherrealm was the same as everywhere else. A damned existence for all who lived. I was ignorant... or naive, I suppose. It wasn't until I finally left that I saw the truth for myself."

She paused, casting her gaze out over the city and the landscape they could see from where they were. "I saw Earthrealm, Outworld... saw happy people, a better way to live. I wanted it, and to have it I knew I had to leave everything I was taught, everything that I was, behind me.

"...does that answer your question?"

"Yeah, thank you," Pit replied, glancing from Ashrah to Omen's spirit with a thoughtful expression. If they had showed this demon a different way, another option, could they have turned him away from the path of darkness too? The angel did not regret what happened, but the thought stuck in his mind all the same.

Pit tucked the spirit away and then summoned a bright smile for his battle partner. "Alright! We're all done with Mortal Kombat for today! What's next on the agenda?"

Their wandering had brought them to one of the Pool's main entrances, so they could head anywhere - deeper in, or out of the Tier entirely if they wanted. Ashrah placed a hand on her hip when they stopped, pursing her lips slightly as she thought about what else she had to do today. Pools days were normally not that busy, especially if you won all of your matches.

"You were looking for new places to stay within Esaka, weren't you? I can point you towards a few, though if you end up in dire straits I'm sure the members of Fight of Gods wouldn't turn you away. We even have a few futons at the Order of Light, though you may have to deal with a well meaning lecture from some of the older masters."

Despite her straight face, Pit could tell she was making a joke and he chuckled lightly. "Crashing at a dojo is a back up plan. Plus we've got people that aren't part of any dojos, so yeah, let's go look at the other places."

Though after hearing that Ashrah had freed pretty much her whole dojo from Galeem, Pit had been thinking of visiting Fight of Gods again for that purpose... he didn't feel bad enough to take Zeus up on his offer of going there to get healed, but maybe if he stopped in later using that as an excuse he could throw a few friend hearts around.

"Oh! While we're up here though we could check on Sareena!" Not to mention the other Seekers still fighting that afternoon.

At that, Ashrah nodded. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it. If my memory serves me, her last match will have recently ended. She should still be in the Pools."

They weren't far from the section they'd come from, so it would be no trouble at all to turn around to head for the other Netherrealmer's last known location.

---

---

Capturing the creatures was the easy part, but heeding Ramattra and Heismay’s warnings about the large Bunnymen and their smaller likenesses might be difficult for Tenna and his two henchmen. While the creatures weren’t the brightest, they more than made up with the number of eyes peering out of the abandoned village, and the CRT’s stealth capabilities were not to be desired. His best bet was some sort of distraction, and with two complacent bodies at his disposal, it wouldn’t be impossible to sneak away with the rabbits in tow. One of his minions would have to volunteer; however, since this wasn’t a formal dismissal, there was no guarantee of the Shadow Guy's return. “Make a ruckus! Whatever you need to do so that we can make off with these little guys.” Truthfully, Tenna felt bad about killing rabbits, but that was the circle of life.

The braver of the two summons chipped in with a saxophone noise, announcing that he would take the task as he picked up a long stick and walked away. It wasn’t very long before the Shadow Guy’s plan had come to fruition, a Bunnyman with a notable welt now roaring angrily as it rallied nearby bodies to chase after the minion wildly. Luckily, the shadow guy was just small and fast enough to outpace them, but with a Stagecoach now rapidly making its way down an ice track, and time being ever-so precious, there was no way to retrieve his employee. A large tear rolled down Tenna’s face dramatically. “I’m gonna miss that guy.” Without another moment of waiting, the TV Host and his remaining minion fled with the four - still alive - rabbits in his clutch.

It wasn’t difficult for Tenna to cross the icy racetrack that took the rest of the Seekers across on his own, fashioning himself a makeshift sled out of a large burned plank. The ride was mostly automatic, the propelling tracks speeding the TV Host and minion through difficult jumps and turns. Tenna, of course, put his hands in the air, enjoying the air time he managed to make, encouraging his company to do the same. “Wheeeee!~”

---

With his safe return to the Stagecoach and four live rabbits to prep and serve, Tenna had his work cut out for him. Since nobody in the crew was a seasoned chef, Tenna was the closest they had to prepare the stew for the remainder of their travels, since he had hosted an array of cooking shows in his Dark World. With the abandoned campgrounds making for an excellent stopping point towards their destination, the CRT was certain he had more than enough time to set up food for the other Seekers while deciding what to do among the abandoned mine.

Excitedly, Tenna recalled an important item from his pocket, reaching deeply inside it as if it had no end. Finally, after a couple of seconds, the TV Host found the item he was looking for: a simple and white chef’s hat. Any spectator at first glance would assume it was a plain, simple hat; however, Tenna truly believed that the hat was essential to preparing the meal for the other Seekers. He placed the hat neatly atop his head in a dramatic fashion, feeling invigorated and ready to cook! Now came the hardest part.

The rabbits were very much still alive, though they now seemed exhausted from struggling for so long during Tenna’s return. It should just be a simple matter to crush the small creature’s neck, but some part of the CRT’s consciousness wouldn’t let him. He was able to fight alongside the Seekers against horrific crimes against nature, but couldn’t muster the courage to hurt an innocent creature. The longer he dragged his feet on the topic, the less time he could have later to explore this creepy place. Delegating the task of slaying the small animals to his minion, Tenna turned toward the stewpot, the crew’s only proper tool for cooking, unsure if they even had condiments or spices to work with. While the stew before had shown the ability to produce something mediocre tasting at the very least, with few ingredients, though it seems the pot had been in the Seeker’s possession for quite a bit now.

Making the “infinity stew” as it was described in passing to Tenna shouldn’t prove difficult, simply a matter of preparing the food and cooking it amongst its now empty contents. The TV Host also took notice of Edward’s haul of bovine meat and planned to prepare it as well. Just as he was preparing to toss the cuts of meat into the cauldron, a chirpy saxophone chimed in, announcing that the Shadow Guy had done the messy work of skinning, gutting, and deboning the rabbits, and now was left with four headless, fresh meat to work with.

While he wasn’t about to prepare ALL of their available food, there were only so many shanks of food to work with, and they would require time to cook in the pot. There were seven mouths to feed in total, excluding the non-organic members of the group, and eight pieces of meat to work with, along with the wild berries gathered by Ramattra. There was no easy way to plan this; while no members would necessarily go hungry, they would have to be content with half-portions of meat and berries to ration the food out the easiest, and put the rest away in the stew to cook for later.

Tenna nodded. A plan was indeed a fine start, and now that he knew where to allocate food, he dropped two slabs of mutton and two skinned rabbits into the bare pot, hoping that the stew’s “immortality” was not a fluke he misunderstood. Tenna also made use of Edward’s armory, tossing in four of the boiled prawns for extra substance. By the end of the day, the group will be treated to the contents, hopefully more flavorful than before, with the combination of higher-quality meats and Tenna’s chef hat. He finalized his “recipe” with a big stir from his cartoonishly sized spoon. “Bon Appétit!”

Cooking the rest of the meat for immediate consumption wouldn’t be a difficult endeavor, so long as he had access to fire. Luckily, the campsite they rested at was occupied by a coat-clad monster, who huddled around a dimly lit campfire and appeared friendly enough to loan the flame. “Excuse me, but might I cook some of these, friendly fella?” The host held up eight small skewers made up of the four remaining pieces of food.

The creature didn’t respond, at least not vocally. Only smirking as it hurled a glass of hot cocoa at Tenna, the CRT was unable to sidestep the item as it crashed and stained his red tailcoat. “Oh.” Tenna moped slightly; however, it did not seem the gleaming entity meant any significant harm, as the hot-cocoa attack ceased after the initial cup. Tenna tried his hardest, whilst being extra dramatic about it, to strain whatever of the liquid from his coat. “Well. If you don’t mind, I’ll uh… do that quickly.”

Tenna straightened his hat as he crouched down next to the fire and began slowly turning the meaty skewers over the flames, cooking them as evenly as possible. It didn’t take long for the meat to go from raw to medium rare, with a nice woody singe on each piece of meat; some extra smokiness was also guaranteed. Tenna wasn’t sure if the group had any actual plates, but he offered each organic Seeker a skewer and a large handful of berries, which were surprisingly well-cooked, which was unexpected from the CRT.

---

Once news of Edward’s strike team failure reached the rest of White Team, Tenna delegated himself to play collector for the treasures mentioned being in the belly of the mining facility. No one else was brave- or stupid- enough to go on their own, and bringing a clutch of treasure back to the Stagecoach might give Tenna some much-needed attention from the other Seekers.

However, Tenna couldn’t help but shake that he was grossly underprepared to fight the large monstrosity that supposedly lurked in the contents of the largest room. Realistically, he knew there was no possibility of him and two minions defeating the threat. This would need to be a run-and-gun into the facility to grab whatever valuables he could get his hands on.

Once again, making use of Edward’s armory, Tenna equipped himself with the Dragon's Fury flamethrower, smacking a long-gun magazine into the stock. His precision with it was certainly questionable, but without any other flame-producing weaponry at Tenna’s disposal, this was his best option for dealing with the Frostbitten that Edward missed.

As prepared as he could be, Tenna finally took the plunge into the mouth of the mine, accompanied by two newly created Shadowguys. Immediately, Tenna took note of the valuable metals lining the walls down into the belly of the facility, and commanded his two Shadow guys to begin excavating it with nearby rusty pickaxes as he collected pieces of scrap metal off rusted shelves and minecarts.

But that couldn’t be all that Edward left, could it? Tenna squinted down multiple utility halls and barracks nearby, and some notable equipment that resided on abandoned equipment hooks nearby would include a simple gas mask. Other than that, it was just picks, shovels, hammers, and mining helmets. Once the Shadow Guys finished harvesting the metals, clay, and coal from the walls of the cave, they set deeper into the mines, where the threatening PomPom now rested among piles of ash.

Tenna knew that the second he entered the room, the monstrosity would be alerted to their presence and begin attacking, so he needed to think this through. The CRT wasn’t much of a strategist, but even he knew now was the time for all the gears to be firing at max output. Scouting out the room revealed that the Frostbitten had not entirely faded to ash, but rather left behind articles of their clothing, almost like they had lost their form and collapsed. Without much hesitation, Tenna dashed in with his cronies. “Go for the warm gear! It’s about to get CHHHHILLLY!”

Hearing the voices and footsteps of the trio, PomPom uncurled out of itself, returning to its centipede-like shape of gloves and coats. It began skittering towards the TV Host after recognizing Tenna as the largest target among the three. Unfortunately for the large creature, Tenna clutched his Dragon’s Breath and began lobbing large fireballs one after another at the largest part of its body, expending a fourth of its flames. The monster was gearing up to swing its tail end at Tenna just before he fired a last, lucky shot that staggered the beast for a moment, giving the CRT a chance to dash away and collect pieces of gear to stay warm.

By now, the Shadowguys managed to equip two and three pieces each, respectively, as Tenna made way toward a larger pile of clothes. With one of the tattered balclavas in his hand, he stretched the fabric over his face, where his nose erected a lump in the mask and his face off center. Other than that, he chose to wear a thick coat, earmuffs, and a pair of gloves. He couldn’t necessarily feel the difference, but with Edward’s intel, he knew the large threat was able to freeze over a massive area of effect. The CRT hoped that he and his entourage, wearing thicker clothes, would help to weaken the frosty attacks.

After returning its attention to the escaped TV and his henchmen, Tenna commanded his Shadow Guys to rush around PomPom and grab whatever valuable gear they could from PomPom’s protection. “GoGoGo! There’s much to loot here!” Unfortunately, Tenna’s plan didn’t work out perfectly, as PomPom, upon realizing the three were beginning to scatter around, began freezing a large area of effect, frost slowly crusting at the feet of the Shadow Guys, faster so on the one that was equipped with less snow gear. Tenna, however, remained immune to the frost, being the most bundled of the group, and with how much downtime the attack created as it blasted his minions with frost, now was the best time to grab whatever he could and leave.

With the flamethrower mounted on his back and his two henchmen now suspended in ice, he could afford to grab two larger pieces of equipment and retreat. Now he had to outrun PomPom, who had finished its attack and now made chase to Tenna, who without much consideration, grabbed a odd-looking greatsword and a large scythe-like weapon that appeared to be multi-purpose.

Luckily, the large creature was stupidly clumsy, slinking along walls and running into sharp corners as Tenna turned them, unable to slow down its momentum in time. Before the beast could have even followed Tenna further, it lost him down a stray corridor in the mines, where Tenna safely waited for the creature to pass, and hoped its gleaming nature would not curse the rest of the Seekers later.

According to Fleamaster Mooshka, the caravan was making good time to its destination. Layton wasn't familiar with this part of the region despite residing so close, but he was sure Mooshka knew what he was doing. As the caravan's leader said, the route they're traveling will take them someplace along the Midnight Walk without having to traverse it. The result was a safer, if longer, journey. Layton certainly didn't mind the pace.

The caravan had stopped in the middle of a stretch of woods covered in a layer of snow, the odd section of fence or abandoned wagon hinting at some presently-missing denizens. A mystery, perhaps, though not one Layton was occupying himself with.

The caravan's carriages formed a rough circle in a small clearing, large enough for the young ones to flap about away from the group. The older fleas gathered near the center, where a large ridged pot bubbled with a viscous yellow brew. Layton politely declined having some for himself (he'd tasted it before and felt it too energizing), instead having a pot of tea from his set that any other fleas were welcome to a cup of as well.

It was a nice moment of relaxation. Which, of course, couldn't last.

Near the fringe of the circle of carriages, one of the fleas stood up suddenly. Vog - a larger flea and the caravan's lookout - trudged off into the woods without a word to the rest. Layton watched her leave, no doubt after something her keen senses picked up, and decided to follow. If danger was near, he'd be remiss not to lend a hand.

He didn't need to go far, as only a few paces from the clearing came the sounds of a fight. As Layton approached he took a moment to survey the situation; Vog was fending off a small pack of armed assailants that glowed an unnatural blue and seemed almost mindless in attacking. She was more than capable against them, keeping them at a distance with her long tusk-like weapon, but there were quite a few of them. Even as she fought, one of their numbers rose up out of the snow behind her and started to advance.

"Behind you!" Layton called as he rushed in, putting his weight into shoulder-checking the Hel-walker. It was thrown off-balance, and before it could retaliate, Vog spun and swung at it, swatting it away from the two of them.

"Grr..." She addressed Layton, standing nearly eye-level with him. "Bug not flea, protecting ours is mine to do. You stay back."

"I don't mean to intrude on your duty," Layton said, kneeling to pick up the flung Walker's sword off the ground, "I only wish to help." Vog growled again, though instead of continuing to argue she turned her attention back to the Walkers. Layton, too, pivoted to face a few others that were approaching their flank. Back-to-back, the two prepared to face their adversaries.

Vog advanced on her quarry while Layton stood his ground, waiting for them to come to him. Two Walkers rushed him, one raising its sword to strike. Layton met the attack with a swing of his own, deflecting the blow, and used the momentum to parry the next Walker, swords clashing as they fought. Normally a defensive fighter, Layton acted more aggressively. After staggering the Hel-Walker he struck again, disarming the undead warrior before following it up with a quick double-slash across its chest, sending it to the ground. The Professor's eyes gleamed as he sidestepped the next Walker, aiming a kick into its side to send it back.

Now it was just these two left. Layton kept his defenses up as the Walker that hung back joined the fray, magical blue sparks flying whenever their swords met. The other warrior recovered, and now both were on him, Layton starting to lose ground as he tried to keep them at bay. Trying to gain the advantage again, Layton kicked off a nearby tree, a Hint Coin spent (-1 ◉) to leap over his foes and land at their backside. Before they could turn to face him again he spun, slashing his sword across their backs, putting in some extra effort (-1 ◉) to make the strike land harder. The result sent the two flying forwards, skidding along the ground as they landed on their fronts.

Once more Layton lashed out more than he otherwise would - he leapt onto the back of one and drove the tip of his sword into its spine. The spirit flinched and shuddered as it was defeated. And before his friend could recover, Vog ran up and delivered a very similar final blow to its fallen form.

The fight was over, and for a moment Layton and Vog stood there, gripping their weapons and looking for more. When it was clear that they'd felled them all, Layton relaxed, letting the sword drop from his hand. "My word..." Layton brushed snow off his jacket and fixed his hat, looking at the bodies of the Walkers dotted around them. He folded his arms and rubbed his chin in thought. "Some sort of... automatons, perhaps? What would they be guarding?" His Gleaming mind seemed satisfied with this justification, so he turned to his compatriot. "Are you alright, Vog?"

Vog nodded. "Too little to be much to me. Bug not flea fights well."

Layton chuckled. "Yes, well, I suppose I have more experience in combat than it seems. Let's return to the caravan, shall we?"

So they did, trudging back through the snow to where their fellow travelers were, where Mooshka and the rest of the caravan were preparing to return to the road. The woods weren't as safe as they appeared, after all.

---

Driven by the dire prospect of disqualification through tardiness yet again, Nadia raced through the streets of the Middle Tier, heading northwest as she inwardly bemoaned how easy it was for her to get distracted and lose track of time. Robo-fortune had split off from her to pursue the most efficient route with the help of her built-in GPS, but with the help of a hovering headdrone the feral’s mechanical doppelganger kept her on the right track. “Turn there,” she deadpanned. “Through that alley. Then take a left. Cut across the temple grounds. No, your other left.”

Though Robo’s synthetic voice lacked any kind of inflection, Nadia thought that her counterpart seemed pissed. Annoyed at her for wasting time on frivolous things like friendship, probably, when they could be improving their percentage chance of success through repetitive combo trials. Admittedly, Robo did kind of have a point; Nadia knew that winging it would only get her so far. But their upcoming match was only their second qualifying round in Mortal Kombat, so how hard could it be? They’d be fine. Nadia snickered as she ran. If Robo wasn’t so stuck in her ways, maybe she would be the one calling the shots instead. As long as her counterfeit duplicate was the feral’s backup dancer, they’d be playing by her rules. And rule number one was to never take things too seriously.

After flipping over a Box Dash food delivery truck and dashing past the Corner Carry post office, where mokujin workers in pale blue button-ups were busy sorting through mail for the Heavenly Principles about the current state of tournament balance, Nadia and her chaper-drone reached the northwestern edge of the Middle Tier. Below her sparkled the crisp, chlorinated water of the Pools, where plenty of matches were still raging without any officially scheduled lunch break. , It was past time the catgirls got back into action. “Follow me,” Robo‘s headdrone instructed before rocketing downward toward a particular stage.

Sure enough, Nadia could see two strangers waiting for their opponents there already, as well as Robo-fortune’s body headed their way, a new head on her shoulders. That was one thing her copycat had over the original: she could simply manufacture and replace the modules she discarded, while Nadia needed to recover her parts. Seeing Robo’s headdrone in flight sparked the cat burglar’s imagination about new ways to make use of her Kameo in Kombat, but in order to put her ideas into practice she’d need to reach her appointed arena in time. “I can’t fly, ya know!” she protested, circulating extra blood through her system as she tensed up to spring. “Guess the purr-essure is on!”

Nadia climbed onto the railing, then hurled herself from the precipice. The wind yanked off her hood, whipped her hair, and roared in her ears, but the catgirl didn’t balk. Thanks to her (admittedly reckless) practice in Alcamoth, the Under, and elsewhere, she was getting the hang of falling in style. Midway through her descent she bolted forward with Charge, covering a lot of distance in a single streak of lightning. The moment she materialized, she let out jets of blood to keep her forward momentum, allowing her to soar through the air all the way to the stage and land with a deft roll, mere seconds before Robo-fortune arrived. So, this was where she’d be fighting: a simple dodecagonal wrestling ring with what looked like lasers instead of ropes, flanked by large marble statues. She did her best to not let the ropes remind her of Banishing Flats.

Pulling her hood on, Nadia turned, crossed her arms, and fixed her fellow feline with a huge, smug grin. “What took ya so long?” Robo just stared at her, saying nothing, but a moment later her headdrone shot down like a missile and detonated inches from Nadia’s feet. It spooked her enough that she reflexively sprang into the air, her tail ramrod-straight and bushy. “Nyargh!”

“So, this is who we’ve been waiting for?” When she heard one of the strangers speak, her suave voice colored by a strong Spanish accent, Nadia turned around with her game face on, pretending she hadn’t just been a silly scaredy-cat a moment ago. In front of her stood a tough-looking South American woman clad in light Incan bronze armor and brown leather, her blonde hair tied up in tight braids. Two long daggers, curved like snakes, hung conspicuously at the waist of the amazon queen. Behind her, quietly chewing the scenery with her arms crossed, stood a deathly pale countess with raven-black hair and dark, angular armor over a belted corset, with a long wine-red cloak at her back. If these ladies’ positions reflected their team composition, Nadia reasoned that the former must be Maya and the latter Mira. “So your team’s theme is ‘cat girl’, eh?”

Nadia scoffed, a derisive smile on her face. “We might look alike, but once we get scufflin’, you’ll find out just how different we are.”

“Hmph.” Maya glanced over her shoulder at the vampire. “Like my step-sister and I.”

The feral glanced between them, one eyebrow raised in the shadow of her hood. “...Adopted, I assume? Wait, are you a vampire?”

Mira briefly made eye-contact with Maya before brushing the comment off. “It’s a long story.” Though she spoke in a sophisticated manner, her accent was undoubtedly Russian–a world apart from her step-sister’s. She then uncrossed her arms and flexed the fingers on one hand, revealing dark steel finger claws. “And I’m afraid you don’t have much time.”

Snickering, Nadia turned sideways and lifted her own claws to assume her fighting stance. “Straight to business, huh? Let’s see if you’re up to scratch.”

Robo-fortune discharged a burst of steam, then stepped back to give her partner some room. “Error: cannot engage. Deleting first law...”

Drawing Temperance and Vengeance with a flourish, Maya stepped forward. “Watch out. You might get cut.”

ROUND ONE: FIGHT!

Neither fighter wasted a second. Both called in their Kameos, although this time Nadia started out with a different opening gambit. Rather than jump in to perform her Plutonite Beam assist, Robo knelt down to deploy a headdrone, with her chest opening up like an action figure’s to swap in a new head before she left. Mira, meanwhile, whipped around as she conjured streams of what looked like liquid mercury. Only after a brief moment did Nadia realize that it was Mira’s metallic blood. “Hey! Blood’s kinda my thing!”

The blood took the form of three bats that flapped forward, slowly homing in on her position. Hey, I know this trick! With her new drone headed her way, Nadia took off running on all fours to close the distance. Maya, covered by her sister’s Blood Seekers, did the same. At the last moment Nadia sprang up to leap over the projectiles, but this approach was a little too predictable. Maya sprang straight up to pluck her foe out of the sky with an air throw, extending both legs to kick her back down. By the time Nadia rolled to her feet, the Blood Seekers were on there. She had no choice but to stand there and block as the bats hit her guard and erupted into silver blood one by one. “Ugh! All this blocking will make me B-negative!”

Once the last one popped she was more than ready to start attacking again, but Maya had ample time to add in a projectile of her own. “Ack!” Nadia reeled back as the thrown dagger sliced into her, then bounced off. It plunged into the ground blade-first as Maya dashed forward, and with a limber cartwheel the amazon snatched it back up on the way. Immediately she let fly one, then both daggers, catching them as they rebounded like some maniacal juggler. After performing a short dagger-throwing combo at close range, Maya flipped forward with a cartwheel kick, stabbed with both daggers, ripped them out, and finished with an upside-down leap kick that sent her flying upward, surrounded by songbirds of light.

Nadia hit the ground and sprang to her feet, a little cut up but still ready to brawl. “Ready ‘fur’ more!” She pulled off her head and hurled it like a bowling ball. Maya smartly jumped forward over the head, hurling Temperance down. With no time to dodge, Nadia blocked it. As it ricocheted, she briefly saw it glow yellow, but thought nothing of it. Maya landed and closed the distance with a cartwheel kick that the feral managed to sidestep, but as she launched a spinning tail slap, Maya went low and grabbed her fallen dagger to use it as the anchor for a whirling leg sweep.

With a grunt Nadia hit the floor, gathering herself just in time to see Maya perform a familiar somersault. “That’s my move!” She ducked backward just enough to dodge Maya’s overhead axe kick, then struck back with her Cat Scratch rekka. “One, two!” After a couple slashes, she finished with her own axe kick El Gato and sent Maya sliding on her back. “Wreck-a yo face!”

Unfazed by Nadia’s neck stump, the amazon regained her feet quickly, her daggers in hand. “You talk too much.” She got a taste of her own medicine the next second, though, as her criticism allowed Nadia’s head to chomp down on her ankles. “Agh!”

The feral’s body took the chance to dramatically point her finger, signalling Robo’s headdrone to take action. “Beep beep blarp!” It opened up to spit out a salvo of hidden missiles, each shaped like a mouse or fish cat toy, that flew up and then came down on Maya. Unfortunately they took just long enough, and numbered few enough, that Nadia’s body couldn’t run in and capitalize in time. Instead of a combo, she had to settle for a throw. “I’m havin’ a ball!” She snatched Maya in a giant yarn ball of extruded muscle fiber to toy with before tossing her closer to the ring’s edge.

Nadia sprinted forward, then performed a short-hop to execute a double claw swipe just as Maya recovered, but the amazon was one step ahead “Mira!” As she woke up, Maya called out her Kameo, then launched her songbird Leap Kick to stuff the feral’s jump-in with an anti-air. When Mira arrived, she formed her blood into a great silvery scythe, then lashed out with a heavy slash that recaptured Nadia as she fell. Yowling, the catgirl was helpless as Maya followed up with a razor-sharp combo of dagger slashes and wild kicks. As the combo reached its end, shadowy purple power gathered around Maya, and she finished with a series of three backflip kicks that carried both her and her opponent backward. As each blow connected, Nadia realized with gritted teeth that this must be her foe’s equivalent of a Blockbuster. Yet the Shadow Tumble Kicks did not finish the combo. That honor went to a powerful Leap Kick Ender, which launched Nadia skyward surrounded by a flock of radiant songbirds.

As she sailed away Nadia managed to right herself and land on her feet, but with her body scuffed, bruised, and sliced, things weren’t looking good. Her opponent had landed two solid combos, while she’d barely put together a string. Was Maya just that good at reading her, or was there something the catgirl hadn’t gotten yet? Unfortunately, she wouldn’t have time to figure it out. Maya went for her detached head, forcing Nadia to call in Robo’s Plutonite Beam for some cover as she retrieved her head with Cat Call. No sooner was it on than Maya was inbound, first rolling and then hurling herself forward with a long short hop.

Thinking quickly, Nadia performed Cat Slide to low-profile the high-speed jump-in, then rolled backward to launch Fiber Upper. Her double kick went over Maya’s head, but snapping up to her legs took Maya by surprise. Unable to execute her anti-air in time, she had to block Nadia’s falling clash slash, which left the feral at a slight advantage. Unfortunately, it also left her cornered against the ring’s laser ropes. When she lashed out with her claws, a guaranteed frame trap, Maya wisely did a backward handspring. She then spent the last of her Shadow energy on a Shadow Spirit Slicer by locking her daggers’ hilts together, then flinging them as a single saw-like projectile.

“Hah!” Nadia guarded against what she’d assumed to be a failed punish attempt, only to see Maya shaking her head condescendingly. When the Spirit Slicer concluded, both Vengeance and Temperance bounced away, loaded with purple and yellow energy, respectively. Nadia bared her fangs as she rushed forward, determined to keep Maya away from her daggers. “Whatever you’re up to, don’t count meowt!” She chipped away at her foe’s block with a series of furious claw slashes and kicks, alternating high and low. After a stronger hit that pushed Maya back, she jumped forward as if to overhead, only to double jump backward. Maya’s upward claw slash whiffed, and the next second Nadia spiked her head downward, then jetted downward with Feral Edge to follow up the projectile. “I’m a s-tabby cat!” She dove beneath her opponent, then launched her with an upward slice.

A moment later the two squared up again, a smile on Nadia’s face as she pressurized blood in her legs. While she hadn’t landed a combo, her Blockbuster had dealt appreciable damage. She could bring this back! “Tin Cans!” As she boosted into the air she summoned her Kameo for a beam assist, only for Robo to take one of Maya’s daggers to the face and stumble backward. That was a bummer, but now that Maya had thrown away the one dagger near her, she was unarmed!

Nadia threw herself forward with an airdash, then landed with a roll and pounced forward so Maya couldn’t try that Leap Kick of hers. Instead, the amazon shone with golden energy. “On the hunt!” In an instant, her daggers appeared in her hands.

The catgirl’s eyes went wide just before one of them struck her right between the eyes. “Gah!” The next thing she knew, she was getting combo’d again. Maya kept this one short and sweet, but rather than end with a Leap Kick, she hurled her empowered daggers forward. Nadia blinked, confused as she recovered from her backward stumble. Had Maya just let her go? Then she looked up and saw those daggers floating above her like yellow and purple sawblades, just before they began to fly into her on their own accord. In a panic she tried to duck and dodge, but once Maya added her own kicks to the mix with those spinning blades, it was over. Nadia slumped to the floor a moment later, her strength leeched out by the dozens of cuts all over her.

MAYA AND MIRA WIN!

---

Seated as best he could at an open spot by one of the wrought-iron tables, Band did not interrogate the Seekers’ new associates, but waited and listened as his comrades asked the United Nations representatives questions one by one. The answers Chevalier (and to an extent Anji as well) offered, cool as a cucumber, helped fill in the blanks about the proposed plans and G-Corp’s capabilities. The most pertinent details concerned the task assigned to the hypothetical Team A, which would be targeting G-Corp’s reinforcements. As capable as the Seekers were, an APC full of killer robots and possibly protected by burly Gigas units would be no joke, so hopefully there would be a lot more people on the case than the Koopa Kids and the Octopath Travelers. Band also noted Chevalier’s mention of the location of G-Corp’s manufacturing facility, it being in the Tangled Shore. That name didn’t ring a bell, so it could easily be too far away for the Seekers to realistically attend to it, but in a big case any random scrap of information could turn out to be important.

It wasn’t long before the inquiries concluded and the luncheon could begin. Although primarily a winery, Wine-Cup Hold naturally served a selection of appetizers (or hors d'oeuvres as Chevalier might call them) designed to accompany certain vintages for maximum tasting experience. With the day just over half finished, and multiple fights ahead of him, Band didn’t want to risk getting tipsy. His body looked big, but his true self housed inside the metal shell was much smaller, and it had the blood that alcohol would affect. In short, he was a two-and-a-half ton lightweight, so water would work just fine to wash down the salty flatbreads and spicy wings.

Band wasn’t planning to obsess over the fine details of a mission he couldn’t partake in, but as the food arrived, one thing did occur to him. “Mr. Chevalier,” he began. “For the folks plannin’ to roll out with Team A, I figure you got a map of the area we could use, preferably with roadways marked? Would make interceptin’ the shipment a whole lot easier.”

Before Chevalier could answer, Anji raised a fan. “Oh yes, a map. Hold tight, I’ll run and get you one.”

“And just one more thing,” Band added. “You got agents of your own on these missions too, right? How many we lookin’ at?”

The gentleman nodded. “Darli, Dolores, and Anji were the original Team A, and will now fight alongside your own contributions. For B and C, we have Ms. Hildegard von Krone and Darun Mister lined up, respectively. Three should be sufficient for those teams.”

With business taken care of, the Seekers who’d attended the meeting dined casually. Since Amaterasu and Terry had the rest of the day off, with no more pools matches to fight for now, they could round up Captain Falcon and decide who to send where. Depending on Yayama’s schedule, she might be available to depart on a mission herself. Band expected that Therion would relay Chevalier’s briefing to Primrose so the two could allocate their strength appropriately. In addition to Band’s fellow detective Zenkichi, neither Harry nor Kim were here, and perhaps busy with the tournament; the cyborg was not aware of the latter’s elimination.

Unfortunately, Band could not relax among the rose bushes and hawthorn trees for long. When his internal clock hit one-thirty, Band picked his bell-shaped body up off the ground. “Scuse me. Got places to go and people to fight. Stay frosty, y’all.” With a tip of his hat, the detective turned to go, headed back toward the lift that would return him to the Pools tier. On the way he briefly visited a bulletin board, where he found the name of his next opponent: Chel. After fighting a tiger in the last round, Band couldn’t help but be curious who the World Warrior tournament had in store for him this time.



Heismay kept quiet as the stagecoach slowly and jerkily rattled over the frozen minecart tracks of the abandoned facility, though even if he did dare to speak, the biting wind would have swallowed his words. Even if the constant flurries hindered visibility, he did his best to shield his face against the snow and stay alert for any sign of malicious intent among the sinister shadows. Reinvigorated by the skewer and berries provided by Tenna, he surveyed the outpost around him. He watched as Edward, occupied as always by the task of driving the expeditionary vehicle, opted to send his expendable minions marching into the decrepit buildings and yawning tunnels in lieu of any Seekers, however strong and brave such volunteers might be. Of course, some Seekers like Tenna went anyway, motivated by boredom or the prospect of loot. If they or the golems actually recovered leftover ores or left-behind mining equipment from the outpost, that was well and good, but Heismay suspected their incursion’s primary purpose was to provoke and distract any resident enemies so the stagecoach itself could sneak through unopposed.

This was a strategy that Heismay tacitly approved of, of course. There were simply too many hiding spots that attackers could launch ambushes from around here, a situation that the Highlands’ dark and windy conditions only worsened. The sooner everyone was out of this treacherous place, the better.

Each second seemed like a minute as the stagecoach progressed, unable to move too fast over such rough terrain without risking further damage to the wheels. With only six left, the vehicle couldn’t take much more. Heismay fidgeted as the telltale sounds of melee combat -along with more unidentifiable, dreadful vocalizations- echoed up from facility’s frigid recesses. Nothing jumped out at the stagecoach, though, so perhaps the tactician’s cohort was doing its job. Within a few minutes, the Seekers were approaching the far side of the desolate outpost. Up ahead, the exit took the form of a broad archway formed by two of the buildings and a covered bridge between them. A couple chutes indicated that this was where ground-up minerals would be dumped from their hoppers and deposited into freight wagons for overland transport. Unfortunately, the large metal gates were shut tight with a chain and padlock. The padlock was on the other side of the gate, perhaps a sign that it had been sealed from outside to lock certain things in, but a sufficiently slender human hand could reach through the gap between the gates to access the lock from this side.

This meant that Edward could also just pull out his Magelock pistol and then obliterate it with a well-placed shot so that the chain slumped into the snow with a splash of powder. From there, the Shieldrix could push the gate open.

As the stagecoach proceeded and Heismay got his first look at the land beyond the outpost, he heard a soft sound behind him, like a bundle of laundry flopping to the ground. It could just as easily be snow that slid off a roof, disturbed by the repercussions of the pistol’s report, but Heismay left nothing to chance. When he whipped around, he found a red, fur-lined overcoat in a heap on the stagecoach’s roof, smudged by coal dust from the chute it fell through. Then eyes peeked out from the hood, and bloodless blue fingers crept out into the light of the vehicle’s lantern. As Manteau rose to its full height, Heismay’s red eyes narrowed above a grim frown, and he drew his longsaber with a steely rasp.



Vacantly smiling, the creature lifted its long sleeves like a marionette on puppet strings, its frozen flesh cracking audibly. Then it expelled a blast of frozen breath, gathered into a solid mass. Heismay narrowly side-stepped it, his sword held defensively to help deflect the cold vapor. Just grazing it coated the blade in ice, and when its slightly upward trajectory took it into the underside of the covered bridge, it flash-froze a cluster of icicles. Focused and calm, Heismay stepped behind it as the stagecoach’s movement took the icicles toward Manteau, which ducked around it also.

Then the monster inhaled, and Heismay readied himself. This time its breath came out as a spray, and by thrashing around the exhalation covered the whole roof laterally. Yet the stream missed as Heismay hopped backward, almost to the front edge, where he steadied himself to not fall backward onto Edward. Now the stagecoach was out in the open, meaning the eugief had enough room to jump and transform. He held his longsaber with both hands, his eyes narrowed as he stared Manteau down. It stared back, its many fingers clutching tight to the fur lining of its coat as the wind blew harder. When it exhaled again, it turned its face upward, spewing diamond dust into the air. Heismay looked to the cloudy sky, anticipating some sort of hail attack, but nothing came. When he glanced back down, Manteau was gawking at him again. With eyes frozen open, it couldn’t blink. Though its gleaming teeth moved slightly, it couldn’t speak. It could only shuffle, reach, and breath, so it did.

In frustration it belted out another blast of Stunning Cold, faster than before. Heismay didn’t even need to move, however, as the frosty mass sailed off into the darkness. Its blank gaze returned as it reached out with its limp sleeves, much too far to make contact. Was it even actually trying to attack him? The hermit did not feel very threatened. If anything, he felt pity. What was this malformed, frostbitten thing? Slowly, Heismay lowered his blade. Manteau lowered its arms, which crackled, as it exhaled again. The very end of its frigid breath brushing against Heismay’s parka. Ice crystals formed on its surface, but that was all. With how frequently this thing breathed out, he couldn’t get any closer without being frozen. Yet, he couldn’t just stand here and do nothing. At the end of the day, Manteau was a threat. And…maybe putting this thing out of its misery would be best for it too. Heismay breathed deep of the terribly cold air, and searched for inner strength.



Without a word, the eugief transformed into a new Archetype. With many glass eyes beneath his cap, the Gunner did not stand as tall as the Thief or Assassin, but on his shoulder he hoisted a cannon as big as he was. As Manteau spewed icy breath, the force of it causing its body to sway from side to side, Heismay took aim. His cannon resounded once, sharp and clear, as a Sleep Shot slammed into the thing within the cloak. It stumbled backward, its frozen eyes glazing over. After a moment, it let out a final puff of breath and fell limply from the back of the stagecoach into the snow.

A couple seconds later, the rear door opened. Sandalphon poked her head out, then looked up to see Heismay standing on the rear edge of the roof, sliding his blade into its scabbard. “I heard a shot. What happened?”

The eugief shook his head. “...Nothing to worry about. It’s gone.”

---

Beyond Baxter Mining Outpost, the Midnight Walk led through a mountain pass, low but long. It was dark, windy, and cold, but with plenty of open space the sensation of imminent danger that persisted throughout the abandoned facility was gone. The trail wove this way and that through the small, rocky peaks, and after a half hour or so it finally straightened, then opened up to reveal snowy hills dotted with pine trees. In the distance Moon Mountain loomed, bigger and closer than ever, but only its upper third could be seen above a dark, cloudy wall. Between here and there, however, the Seekers could see what looked like a little hamlet, surrounded by strings of colored lights. Smoke spiraled upward from chimneys, while warm lanterns illuminated great poles of diagonally striped red and white. There were people, plenty of them, and the place seemed lively–as if preparing for some sort of festival.



As the team neared the settlement, the stagecoach slowed down and the Seekers disembarked to proceed on foot, Sandalphon among them. They were naturally cautious as they approached, but contrary to expectation, this village seemed to have no defenses of any kind. Although Sandalphon would not allow herself to fully relax, she slowly let down her guard little by little as she and the others scoped out the place. Evidently the unannounced arrival of a number of newcomers was not an uncommon event around here, as it seemed to be something of a crossroads for the Frozen Highlands. Its main structure was a large timber lodge, but rather than a dwelling this building looked like a single massive workshop, full of sawing, hammering, stitching, and tinkering. Near it stood a market board, where a large variety of items could seemingly be ordered with a cheaper eight-hour delivery time or an expedited two-hour time that cost more. To the east lay a pond, mostly frozen over, with a hole carved for fishing and a big, blazing-hot oven nearby. Trails led away from the main village toward nearby locations like an evergreen forest, a misty valley where giant snowmen stood watch over arrays of floating snowflakes, a strange hovel amidst bowing pines, and a secluded mansion at the foot of a little mountain.

A mixture of igloos and guest houses, vibrantly decorated with lights and wreaths, formed most of the buildings in the village. Most were occupied by travelers here (and suitably dressed) for the festival. Sandalphon identified a classy toymaker, a companionable organizer, and a rather lightly-dressed courier among there number. There was also a whole caravan of fuzzy fleas, themselves newly arrived in chitin contraptions pulled by giant bugs. The adults stood only a few feet tall, while the especially fluffy youngsters were the size of soccer balls, and so excited as they flew and bounced around that the adults couldn’t keep track of them. Even the squirrels seemed to be dressed for the occasion.

Most of the population, however, seemed to be elves. Though they had long ears and wore a mixture of greens and reds, they came in all shapes and sizes, not to mention temperaments. One elf in particular stared daggers at the newly-arrived humans, as if he’d prefer to murder them where they stood rather than admit them to the festival, but most of the elves seemed friendly. When Sandalphon brought the Seekers closer to the town center, a long-eared pixie flitted over, waving. “Hello, and welcome to Christmas Village! My name is Maeve!” she sang in a bright, cheery voice.

“Christmas…?” Sandalphon repeated, looking around. This place reminded her of Snowdin.

The pixie looked stunned. “You’ve never heard of Christmas? It’s a holiday, the most special holiday of all. Friends and families get together, decorate homes and Christmas trees, share delicious feasts, and give one another gifts wrapped in colorful paper and bows. And wouldn’t you know it, the main celebration is this very night!” Maeve then laughed nervously, tugging at her color. “Uh…that said, there’s still a LOT to do, heheh…we’re majorly short-staffed, and could use a lot of help…”

Sandalphon was looking past her, to the north. “I apologize for interrupting. But what…is that?”

A few minutes’ walk north of the workshop, at the end of the Midnight Walk, the land suddenly gave way to a sheer drop. Were anyone to venture to the edge, there would be no bottom in sight, only an abyssal darkness. More worrisome, though, was the snowstorm. A few feet from the edge was what looked like a white wall of snow, dense but in constant tumultuous motion, shifting like the surface of a gas giant in the throes of gale-force winds. A stone bridge protruded from this barrier, anchored to the near side of the chasm, and the matchstick-lined Midnight Walk led straight to it. Try as she might, Sandalphon could not see anything more. That bridge could lead to the other side of the gorge, or stop a few feet into the snowstorm, and she would never know until she stumbled in.

“Oh, the blizzard?” Maeve asked after a moment. “Um…yeah. It’s really thick, and really violent. Nobody can get through. Just a few seconds’ exposure is enough to freeze people solid. So everyone trying to follow the Midnight Walk is just…stuck.” The pixie quickly brightened up. “That’s kind of why we’re here, though! We’re hoping to calm the raging storm by demonstrating the peace and warmth of humanity with the biggest, most wonderful Christmas celebration of all time!”

Sandalphon’s pupils became triple question marks before dwindling to just one each. “Will…that work?”

“If the boss thinks it’s worth a try, it’s worth a try!” Maeve said a little too enthusiastically, pumping her arm for good measure. “Anyway, since you’re here, maybe you’d like to lend a hand with the preparations? Like I said before, we’ve got so much to do…like, SO much…”

Just then, Fleamaster Mooshka came running over at top speed, his little mustache wiggling frantically. “Oh, miss Maeve! Miss Maeve!” He slowed down as he drew near, Sandalphon stepping back to give the little flea some room. He breathed deeply, sending out little puffs of mist that made Heismay shiver with remembrance, before regaining his usual composure. “Miss Maeve, I have urgent news. Since we arrived, our young fleas have been so overcome with excitement for the festival…they simply cannot control themselves! We tried to calm them down, but to no avail. They’ve scattered themselves all over the area in one giant game of hide-and-go-seek.”

The Fleamaster tugged at his mustache distractedly. “I wanted to ask, if I may, that everyone here keep an eye out for the young fleas while going about their business, if possible. And if they should find them, send them home! We would happily offer our prized Flea Brew to anyone who might find one…and once we’re reunited, we can join the festival properly.”

Maeve tugged at her ears, her teeth chattering. “Oh…okay…that’s, uh…that’s great. Yeah. We’ll…help you find them, Fleamaster. No problem!” She gave her most convincing smile, then glanced at the Seekers as if begging for help. “So…if you do help, not saying you have to, just, uh…if you do, keep that in mind? Maybe? I dunno, haha…”

Sandalphon’s pupils briefly became stress marks. “We do need to continue along the Midnight Walk to Moon Mountain as soon as possible, but while working to penetrate the blizzard, I’m sure we could help somehow.”

Groaning, Maeve sent a plaintive look toward the heavens. “Ohthankgod…I mean, yaaay! You guys are the best! Love that! Just…y’know, holler if you need anything! And…” She glanced over at the surly elf, then floated closer and held a hand up to her mouth conspiratorially. “Don’t talk to Iorveth. Unless you’re an elf. He’s a little…um, yeah.”

Next to the workshop stood a large board labeled ‘To-Do List!!!’ in what was probably Maeve’s handwriting, with a couple post-it notes attached that read Most tasks will take a couple hours! You’ll get CHRISTMAS SPIRIT for everything you do! Thank you!!!



Reading line by line, Heismay stopped when he reached a certain task. “Catch fish?” He brightened up. “Yesterday I did try my hand for a few minutes, but it’s been a long time since I really fished. I could think of much worse ways to pass the time.” From his little bag he produced a tacklebox, which he held up to demonstrate his preparedness. Despite his composed demeanor, Heismay did seem rather eager to partake in his hobby.